Rhode Island. They have to take me in there. These are the people who have known me all my life; my mother and brothers. This trip, my first best friend ever will also be there. Her mother still lives across the street from my dad's bar. I've agreed to meet them there, for a drink. I haven't walked through the doors of the Arena Cafe since my father died 22 years ago. I grew up there. I know the smells, the light as it comes in through the transept windows; how the wood of the bar glows. It will be a tender re-entrance into a world in which I am forever six years old. My friend told me that if they are already inside when I get to the street, I should call her and she'll come outside and walk me through it.
