My chest does that thing again.
The stupid thing.
The thing where seeing her makes everything else seem less important.
I walk over.
“Hey, Firecracker.”
She glances up.
Immediately smiling.
“Hey yourself. You did a great job, by the way. Heard a lot of praise when everyone was leaving. And one very disgruntled complainant.”
“Ha! Who was it? Mr. Lombardi?”
“I’m not saying,” she teases.
“Whatever. Anyway, told you it'd be fun.”
“You did get into an argument with three senior citizens.”
“I won all three arguments.”
“You absolutely did not.”
I point dramatically.
“History will remember differently.”
Mary laughs.
And fuck me.
That laugh?
I think I'm addicted to it.
“Mrs. Russo threatened to hit you with her purse when you dawdled calling out that last number.”
“She respected me.”
“She called you a smartass.”
“See? Respect. Besides, she won.”
Mary rolls her eyes and starts gathering the piles of leftover Bingo cards.
I take them from her.
“Hey, I got it.”
“You don’t have to do that,” she says, and now both of us have our hands on the stacks of cards.
“You worked all night too.”
“I know.”