“Look, I moved here a while ago, which is why you never met my parents. Danny has never once given me money, and I have never once asked him for it....Before tonight, I didn’t know he came from a rich family, and after tonight I will never think of that fact again. Because the fact is I love him, and if he can deal with this ‘crazy writer’ then that is his choice. Not yours. Now if you will excuse me,” Meg quietly murmurs as she turns and strides out of the dining room. Danny looks at his mother. My sense of direction was horrible, it always had been.Finding a spot a few blocks down, I parked the car and walked to the shop, opening the door with a jangle, a set of rusting bells hanging from the top of the door. The smell of the place as overwhelming - a mixture of coffee beans and cigarette smoke, and the overworked ceiling fan of the shop had done little to clear out the haze of said odors from the place.At the back of the room was a small "stage". I hesitate to call it a stage because. More

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