She answered the door wearing her usual evening attire, an old worn cotton print bathrobe and slippers. Mrs. “B” was busy hanging drapes, and wasn’t sure what time Danny, her son would be home. He had gone with his father to a friend’s house for a game of cards and pizza. I had stopped by to see if Danny was ready to go. He and I had talked about shooting some hoops at the park and then cruising the local burger joints and hangouts tonight.
“While you’re here, would you