”“You smoke?”“Yeah!”“I got some loud. Can we go to yo’ place and roll up.”“That’ll work!”Heading back to Bon-bon’s place, Chug...was a couple of steps behind watching that big ass shaking in the tiny shorts. When they walked inside the room, Chug asked, “Where can I roll up?”“Right over here,” Bon-bon pointed at the table. “Aiight.”“One second,” Bon-bon paused his guest. “Here,” the host offered a paper plate to use for rolling. “Thanks,” Chug acknowledged as he dropped his basketball shorts and. Grateful, I thought, that Cara was with us. That freed them to do what their younger children wanted. Dinner, if anything, was better than the night before. I loved the zucchini puffs covered with yogurt and dill, the duck cooked in pomegranate juice and lots of spices, and the filo pastry layered with pistachio nuts. The wine was perfect too.Cara seemed more subdued as we ate. Happy, and fun, sure. But not as flirty as she had been over the last twenty-four hours. Almost flustered, when Jack. More

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