He meets her sweet embrace. “Okay? It’s the best news I’ve had in years. You stop. I’ll stop. I’d trade liquor for you in a heartbeat. I think God invented reefer so I could help my best girl.”
Mulroney knows by instinct that the day will come when she’ll bemoan tourist traffic, centipedes, over-development, and oppressive heat. But seeing his wife at home and happy and looking forward to the next leg together, as it were, he feels good. Which is not to say that good is great, but it’s easier to trust, and it’s been a long time coming. So he offers humbly and honestly, “Allison, you’re the greatest.”
He is gratified as a global caliber closer can be, having stood his ground with lively feet and smiling eyes to bring this sumbitch home! He sees himself cycling around the bend and back to his bungalow in the tropics, whether it’s a grass shack or a modest mansion, where a lovely luncheon with the little lady awaits.
Now let’s pack this crap and get out of here. Okay?
A California Closing Page 26
