“All my life, didn’t have big hopes and dreams. Only one thing I wanted.” “I . . .” She swallowed, kept her eyes locked to him, and asked, “What was that, honey?” “A life that meant I’d have a calendar on my kitchen wall filled in with birthdays and anniversaries and parties and practices and special occasions. All the shit that makes a good life scribbled in the blocks printed on glossy paper hangin’ on a wall.” Her eyes grew bright and her breath grew shallow. “You gonna give that to me?” he asked. “Yes, Benny,” she responded instantly.
