Two hours later they’re still here. I don’t think they’re leaving, which is ideal, because the Mexican restaurant is several miles away.
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My hopes were fulfilled. We all went to Mexican, but this time there were no enchiladas; I chose fajitas instead. It was the wrong choice, but they were free.
I didn’t tear up this time. Only tears for enchiladas.
Dinner time, they were both still here, so we went to another restaurant, Southern Flavor. MarDe was not happy about the roach crawling up the table.
I was unconcerned. Looking around this place, I knew what this was. There’s nothing green on the menu, only fried.
I mean, they don’t even offer enchiladas here.
We stayed up into the night listening to MarDe play his guitar. He was mostly serenading Jessica, who was busy making her post cards.
She seemed unconcerned about the rumored haunting of this house. I decided not to tell about it until a much later time.