"People are already saying you did it. Are you going to lose your job?"
"No."
Orlando shifted nervously in his chair.
"You could retire."
"Not while you're in school."
"I've been thinking about transferring to another school for my senior year."
"Why? You've got just a little more than a year until you graduate."
"I'm bored. The classes are too easy. There's no challenge."
"For chrissake, you're on the dean's list. Where would you go?"
"Albuquerque."
"And live with your mother?"
"Maybe."
"Have you talked to her about it?"
"Not yet."
"Will all your credits transfer?"
"I don't know. I just know I'm bored with school here and sick of living in Las Vegas."
Gabe let out a sigh.
"You're over twenty-one and I can't make you stay, but I think it's a dumb move at this stage."
"I'm not asking for your advice or help. I plan to do it on my own."
Gabe shook his head, mostly as a reminder to himself to stop arguing with his son.
"Do what you think is best.
But let's talk about this again later, okay?"
"You wouldn't be pissed at me?"
"No."
"You sure?"
Gabe reached over and rumpled his son's hair.
"I'm sure. But I'll miss you if you leave."
"Me, too."
"Do you still have that baseball card collection?"
"Yeah, it's in my closet. What made you think about that?"
"It flashed through my mind a couple of days ago, and I remembered all the time we spent looking for those hard-to-find cards you just had to have. You were nuts about those cards."
"Yeah." Orlando forced a smile and glanced at the briefcase.
"Are you still mad at me for looking through your stuff?"
"No. Just keep what you read to yourself, and don't be sneaky, okay?
I'd rather have you ask."
Orlando stood up.
"Okay. I work from six to midnight."
Gabe checked the wall clock.
"Well, you better go flip those burgers."
"The job sucks."
"Which makes finishing college all the more important."
"I'm going to finish. Dad. Just not here."
"It sure sounds that way."
"Later."
"Yeah."
Orlando left and Gabe stared at the wall while reality bit him in the ass. He knew Orlando's leaving was inevitable, but he'd never imagined it would happen before he finished college. He pushed himself out of the chair, made a sandwich, ate it quickly, went to his bedroom, and put on his shoes and socks. Coming downstairs he could hear his footsteps echo through the house. Maybe he should sell the goddamn place like Orlando suggested, or at least rent it out and move into something smaller.
He grabbed a jacket from the hall closet. Tonight he would hit the bars and work the Santistevan girlfriend angle.
Bernardo opened the car door, climbed into the passenger seat, and gave Orlando a broad smile.
"What's up?"