Saving Francesca

“Fathers in the movies always say they won’t leave and then next minute they’re packing their bags and moving in with uncomplicated women who spend a lot of time at the gym.”

“This isn’t about you. It’s not personal,” he says.
A cold fury grips me, but my heart’s already sunk before I can save it.
“Everything to do with me is personal,” I say, hardly able to get the words out.

“No. But it’s like the argument ‘don’t donate to third-world countries because the money mightn’t get to them.’ People only say that because it makes them feel better about the fact that they do nothing.”

“People with lost personalities will suffer a great deal more than those with lost virginities,” she told me one afternoon...

So during the Glorious Mysteries, I put them in the bin, wrap up the garbage bag, and take it outside.
I know the Virgin Mary will understand. The Jews are a lot like the Italians, so I’m sure there were jealousy issues between her and the other women of Nazareth.

I think about it for a moment. “I had a bus-stop relationship for four years at Stella’s.”
“What’s his name?” she asks.
“The Boy from the Bus Stop. I never actually spoke to him, but we had a visual relationship, if you know what I mean.”