“Hello there.” It was an old friend I had seen many moons ago. She was rough-faced now, worn from years of servitude in a bar from across the river, but she was all right.
“Why? After all this time?” I whispered this under my breath but within earshot of her and a couple patrons who suddenly looked respectfully uncomfortable.
“I thought I’d turn the tables on the one who always looked after me.” She looked straight at me, then down. She remembered what I had done for her the summer of her bridesmaid’s courtship.