The Godfather

 “The Godfather” By Mario Puzo
 
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me.” 
“Sure, Tom,” Johnny said. “And don’t worry about me losing a night. Stay over and relax 
a bit. I’ll throw a party and you can meet some movie people.” He always made that 
offer, he didn’t want the folks from his old neighborhood to think he was ashamed of 
them. 
“Thanks,” Hagen said, “but I really have to catch the early morning plane back. OK, 
you’ll meet the eleven-thirty A.M. out of New York?” 
“Sure,” Johnny said. 
“Stay in your car,” Hagen said. “Send one of your people to meet me when I get off the 
plane and bring me to you.” 
“Right,” Johnny said. 
He went back to the living room and Ginny looked at him inquiringly. “My Godfather has 
some plan for me, to help me out,” Johnny said. “He got me the part in the movie, I don’t 
know how. But I wish he’d stay out of the rest of it.” 
He went back onto the sofa. He felt very tired. Ginny said, “Why don’t you sleep in the 
guest bedroom tonight instead of going home? You can have breakfast with the kids 
and you won’t have to drive home so late. I hate to think of you all alone in that house of 
yours anyway. Don’t you get lonely?” 
“I don’t stay home much,” Johnny said. 
She laughed and said, “Then you haven’t changed much.” She paused and then said, 
“Shall I fix up the other bedroom?” 
Johnny said, “Why can’t I sleep in your bedroom?” 
She flushed. “No,” she said. She smiled at him and he smiled back. They were still 
friends. 
When Johnny woke up the next morning it was late, he could tell by the sun coming in 
through the drawn blinds. It never came in that way unless it was in the afternoon. He 
yelled, “Hey, Ginny, do I still rate breakfast?” And far away he heard her voice call, “Just 
a second.” 
And it was just a second. She must have had everything ready, hot in the oven, the tray 
waiting to be loaded, because as Johnny lit his fast cigarette of the day, the door of the 
bedroom opened and his two small daughters came in wheeling the breakfast cart. 

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