Vanessa invited Pilar to lunch at our loft on the second Saturday of her self-imposed exile to Brookside. Pilar accepted, but turned down a ride, “I...��ll just take the Max.” Main Street Max, about 20-minutes to the Crossroads.Pilar was her usual sprightly self — chatty, friendly — over lunch. I’d made a run to Bryant’s at 18th and Brooklyn in the Forgotten Northeast for bar-b-que. A slab for each of us, plenty of those fried-in-lard fries. Which Walker refreshed in our largest cast-iron frying. We got a phone call saying the delivery guys would be here around 4pm and we were their last drop off. I said to Donna "Have a shower one never knows". As she got out of the shower, and dressed in a skimpy nightie and smelled delicious there was a knock on the door. The lads soon got to work as Donna came in the room their eyes were bulging.The main guy was Tony, 45, a little chubby and knew exactly what her was doing. His side kick was Luke, 23, slim and toned and they had been working. More

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