“Yeah,” said a father with a toddler on his lap. “C’mon. It’s Christmas.”
Graham rummaged through his pockets. “I can pay you a hundred bucks.”
Ralph braked, threw the bus in park, and swiveled around in his seat. “Where do you need dropped off at?”
“The bar—I forget the name. The one tourists don’t know about.”
“Take him to MacNamara’s,” Alethea said.
“I’ll do it,” the driver said, “if he’ll buy everyone a drink.”
“Fine. Anything,” Graham said, handing over all his cash. Now he was finally getting somewhere. If only Grace would have him back.