““So she’s actually coming up here?” “Actually.” He bent over to look under the bed he was sitting on, and dragged a folding card table out. He flipped it open. “Great,” I said. “Check it out.” Like a magician I swirled the tablecloth around my body, flapped it in the air, and brought it down over the table. The cloth was cream color, with a little lace trim all around the edges and so many perfectly circular wine or grape-juice glass stains that it looked like a pattern. It was also about eight... times the size of the tabletop, and hung on the floor all around. It cost a dollar at the thrift shop. I set down two tall twenty-five-cent wineglasses at either end, mismatched dishes, stainless steel service for two, and two candle-holders shaped like the Bunker Hill monument that were so sharp looking I forked over two bucks for them. I stuck in the black candles, stood back, and admired. “We can fold the tablecloth smaller,” he said, stroking his chin. “Sure,” I said, “sure, we can do that,”MoreLessRead More Read Less
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