At Molly’s Pub, it was early evening the crowd was mellow, mostly off duty first responders. Firefighters, Police officers and Medics having a drink. You’re behind the bar, a white towel slung over your shoulder. Half listening to the jukebox the door opens you knew who it was, you didn’t look up.

Erin Lindsay your single mother walked in wearing work jeans, slightly heeled boots and a faded brown leather jacket. She heads to her booth, it was hers the one by the window. You always cleaned it for her.

You pour her the usual a club soda, lime wedge, but no Ice. You bring it to her. You’re 21 years old.