No Ace of Hearts
Part 1
Ace London sighed as he finally got his last delivery of pickles to Bart's Deli.
"Here, you go, Bart, last of them gherkins for you."
Bart continued flipping his paper behind the counter and didn't bother looking up. "Just put 'em in the corner by the others."
"Ok, well, see you next week. Good luck at the hoedown." Bart grunted.
Then,suddenly, something made him look up and he saw Ace trudge out the door. For some reason unknown to him he felt sympathetic to the fallen pilot. "Ace, wait. Eh, wanna have dinner with the fam tomorrow, Friday night? Ya know, my twin boys don't know the story yet; they still think you're a hero."
Ace didn't know what to say. He didn't expect any sympathy from anyone anymore and would definitely never have expected it from a gruff, intimidating fellow like Bart. Finally, he stuttered. "Sssure . . . that would be nice."
Bart found a crumpled piece of paper somewhere behind his counter and a pen and wrote down an address. He extended his large hand to give Ace the piece of paper. "Here ya go. I'll let the wife know you'll be there around six. Does that work for you?"
"Yeah, that works." Ace replied quickly. "Thanks, Bart. See you tomorrow."
