Last Night in Twisted River
“But at his age—he was now seventy-six—and with his limp, which had noticeably worsened after seventeen years of city sidewalks, Dominic Baciagalupo, who’d reclaimed his name, was a slow walker.The cook now limped along the slippery sidewalk; winter had never been his friend. And today Dominic was worrying about those two new condominiums under construction, virtually in their backyard. What if one or the other of these eclipsed Daniel’s writing-room view of the clock tower on the Summerhill liq...uor store?“When I can no longer see the clock tower from my desk, it’s time for us to move,” Danny had told his dad.Whether his son was serious or not, the cook was no fan of moving; he’d moved enough. The view from the house on Cluny Drive was of no concern to Dominic. He’d not had any alcohol for more than fifty-six years; the cook couldn’t have cared less that a couple of condominiums-in-progress might keep him from seeing the Summerhill liquor store.Was it because Daniel was drinking again that he cared about losing his view of the liquor store?MoreLess
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