I nod, tell Richie thank you, and then head to my room to get ready. I wonder what’s so funny about my question, but then it hits me. In this world, Richie is so used to cars waiting around for Angelo until he’s ready that the idea I’d think it would leave without me is hilarious.
It’s Angelo De Maggio’s world; we’re all just living in it.
When the car pulls up outside the church, with a sign posted out front—“Feed the Homeless”—I’m almost certain I’m dreaming. This is the sort of corny ploy one of Zora’s blind date setups would pull.
But Angelo doesn’t have to play those games anymore, surely? I walk into the church and look around, wondering what the punchline is, but there’s no punchline. I spot Angelo standing in the far corner, leaning against the wall as he talks to two homeless m
