She lives in New Bedford, and her dad's not around much and her mum calls her boyfriend a Portagee, a fuckin' greenhorn, and she says, Ma, he's 3rd generation, but her mum just rolls her eyes and fixes a drink, fills her glass with ice from the icemaker they have, pours some bourbon from the bottle on the glass-and-mirror shelf above the sink, turns on one of the gold seahorse faucets just a swoosh, and goes into the living room with the paper.