“So that’s why you’ve come home with some stranger’s smelly shoes and without dessert for my visiting mother?”

Ken circled me like a vulture waiting for its prey to die.

“Uhh..Yes?” I refrained from making eye contact in attempt to mask my worry.

“So you’re telling me..” He paused quite dramatically to further the anticipation of his interrogation. “You were mugged by a shoeless gangster who ran off with your pie on the LIRR ?”

“Why are you making such a big deal, Ken? Your mother doesn’t even like p…”

“That’s not the issue here! I am still coming to grips why he thought your baked goods were more important than the entire bathroom and bank you carry in that over-sized bag of yours.”

“Look, I told him to take the purse! Ken, I’m…”, searching for the right words in a hopeless situation, I felt the lump in my throat that told me this could only end badly. “I’m sorry, okay?”

He turned his back, “No, I’m sorry Paula. This isn’t working out. Maybe we should see other people…”