I was wired. The guilt of stealing and the three espressos I had shot down my throat had me reeling and pissing every twenty minutes.

"Why do I feel so guilty? I only did what they did to me," I thought to myself as Hugo and I stared up at the walls where Greg's paintings should have been. I needed to talk about it with someone. An audible buzz started in my head.

Hugo, incredibly despondent, went to the bathroom and I went to the counter to order another espresso, maybe a double. When I turned, I saw Steve walk in the door grinning like a kid who was about to get a banana split. Such an asshole. I had no patience.

"Steve," I yelled across the room. Several coffee connoisseurs looked up from their books or conversations, but it didn't distract my concentration from Steve. I approached him quickly.

"Listen, what's the deal? Why dis Hugo?" I said tilting my head and opening my hands as if the answer would be placed within them.

"None of your business." He tried to shoot past me, but I touched his arm, something obviously he wasn't used to because he jumped. "Hey, don't touch me!" He said panicky and quickly, as if I had threatened him in some way. He breathed a few times, fast and hard.

"I'm sorry. I'm just looking out for Hugo, he's my friend and that's what friends do. I didn't mean to freak you out."

"You didn't freak me out!"

"Hey, chill out. Don't get defensive. It's just that this place means a lot to Hugo. It's important-- you know-- and he's upset."

From behind me Hugo jumped in, "Fran, get off it."

"Excuse me?"

"It's none of your business," Hugo said plainly.

"Yeah, baby, stay out of it or I'll sic my penis on you." Steve was grinning and my blood was racing.

"You mean that gnat bite you scratch between your legs?"


"Hey, hey, hey please there are customers," Hugo whispered.

"Hugo, you should stick to your own kind because these bitches are only trouble if
you can't screw them." He pushed the door open with his palm
and continued to mumble to himself. The door shut behind him.

"Hugo, what's up? What is this crap?" I seriously wanted to run after Steve and jump him in the parking lot. I knew I could take him, but I kept that to myself.
"I can't believe you let him talk to me like that. I was standing up for you, and you let him just shoot me down."

"I'm sorry." He shrugged his shoulders and walked away.

"Hey, hey, you can't just walk away like that. I thought you were my friend? Are you or are you not my friend?"

"Fran, I have enough drama in my life right now so don't put me through this. I need to think."

"Think about what?"

He sat far from any customers, leaned his elbow on the table and sank his head into his hands. I sat across from him for a quiet moment and waited patiently for him to say something.


He looked at me like I must have looked after stealing the designs and said, "He's my son. Steve's my son."

I froze. Until finally...

"Wow," I said, not wanting to finish because I knew I would have to think of something else to say.