My mood was gray like the January day. It was very cold in New York―the kind of cold that makes your bones ache. The closing had been completed, everyone was gone, and I sat alone in the conference room of my attorney's office. Stanley appeared at the door then walked over to pat me on the back.
"Frank, everything went pretty smoothly. It'll take a few weeks for the banks to transfer the funds properly, but after that you'll be in good shape. You'll have to rough it for awhile. There's a new McDonald's over on Sixth!"
I looked up at him. He could tell I didn't share his effort at humor.
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