I pull out my cigarettes and stick one between my lips. “Ay!” An older man behind the counter waves a hand at me. “No smokin’ in here.” I’m about to put them away when my dad yells, “Since when, Mike? I just saw two guys lighting up in here yesterday.” Mike spins to him, recognition sparking before confusion overtakes him. “Sean, you going to bat for this guy?” “That guy is my kid.” “Paul?” Mike swings his head to me. “I thought he died.” “Back from the grave,” my dad says without a beat.
