The Long Way Home (10)

They drove off the ferry into the narrow city streets. A few blocks up, Dzinski found an open diner and pulled over to the curb.

“Come on,” he said, “I’m buying.”

The place was empty except for the waitress trying to read the paper and a wino snoring softly in the farthest booth. They ordered steak and eggs; coffee for him and the girl had a glass of milk.

They ate and he felt better. Dzinski asked if she had family around, an aunt or something, anywhere she could stay.

“Nope,” she said.

“We’ll figure something out,” he said, paternally.

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