Brooklyn, NY: What now, Joe?

"What am I supposed to do, Cookie?" Joe sighed as he sat down on the edge of the twin bed. He'd just buried his father. It felt like he'd just buried his mother, as well. His Air Force uniform was folded with precision on the makeshift bedside table along with his discharge papers.

"You do what you can, Joe." Cookie straightened her collar in the mirror as she turned to look at him. Joe Beshara was a fine man, if a little broken. He wasn't Italian, much to her father's displeasure, but that could be forgiven. Tall, handsome, brilliant, considerate, and a voice made for the radio. You couldn't buy a boyfriend like that, let alone find one. She had to be careful not to lose this one.

"You've just got to make your own way. Whatever that is. WHEREVER that is," she continued as she walked over to wrap a slim arm around his shoulders. She twirled a finger through his cropped hair as he narrowed his eyes in frustration, "I can't go back to the military. I have no family and Frank's always with Teresa. I just don't know what the answer is."

Francis Sirica was the brother he never had. His best friend since they were able to walk had essentially deserted him for an Italian beauty over in Jersey. He couldn't go anywhere with Frank without having Teresa there, too. Their dynamic was blown. Joe wasn't begrudging his friend for finding love, but did he have to become surgically attached at the hip with her?

Frank should've been the one listening to Joe and throwing in his two cents. Instead, he was brooding to his own girlfriend and wondering if any decision he made would be the right one.

"Forget all of that. You have an opportunity to start fresh somewhere. Frank can visit. Here, let's just do it," she pulled him up and over to the map of the USA hanging on the wall, her heels clicking on the concrete floor of the tiny studio.

"Do what?" Joe shook his head, confused by Cookie's direction. "Pick a place!" she motioned with her hands toward the map. As a tiny Sicilian woman, it was almost impossible for her to speak without using hand gestures, so it wasn't quite clicking for him. She was always making gestures and he was forever oblivious to most of them.

"Fine. I'll do it," she huffed as she slipped off his tie and pulled it over her eyes like a blindfold. "What are you—" Joe stopped as she laid a hand on his arm. Pulling the improvised blindfold down to peer up at him, she laid it out there, "Wherever I put my finger on this map, you're going to look for a job. Once you've got yourself established there, I'll move down to be with you."