by Mae Argilan
"It’s not going to work, you know. I’m not going to change my mind."
"Hey, I’m perfectly happy with our living arrangement. You feel more comfortable sleeping here than in my bed, and I respect that."
She picked some crust off the pastry, and put it on her tongue. "As long as you understand that it’s not about you."
"I understand." He pulled the round end off one of the croissants, and ate it. "You want to be respectful of my parents, I get it. And, you want to go slow this time. We’ve been over this a hundred times. I’m fine with it. As long as you let me pamper you a little. That’s all I ask. I like the idea of knowing you’re under the same roof with me, even if it is two floors away. And, I especially like our little breakfasts in bed."
"Okay, climb in."
"Don’t rush me, wild thing. Gotta go get my coffee first. I’ll meet ya in the middle."
When he returned, he plumped up a pillow, and got under the covers. "That was my mom calling just now from sunny Jamaica. She said to tell you ‘hi’."
"I thought I heard the phone ring. Are they having a good time?"
"Wonderful. Weather is perfect. They were thinking of extending their stay a week. But, they decided to come home tomorrow, as planned."
"Then, I can finally go home."
"Hey, don’t bogart all the food, chick. Pass that over here before it’s gone." He took another bite, and another swallow of coffee. "I do appreciate you keeping me company."
"My pleasure. It still blows me away that a big, rugged guy like you is scared to be alone."
"I trusted you with that. Now don’t go throwing it in my face."
"I’m not. I think it’s cute, and very reassuring, to find out you’re not so perfect after all."
"Whatever turns you on." He sighed. "Before you leave, will you go with me to the cemetery?"
She stared at him a moment. "Okay. Why?"
"To see Bobby…to say good-bye. I still haven’t been able to bring myself to do that. New Years seems as good as day as any to take care of last year’s debts."
As they stood before a bronze grave marker that readRobert Burns Duncan , all she could think of was how embarrassed Geoff was going to be spending eternity under a plaque that had his middle name on it. She pictured it,Geoffrey Chaucer Duncan . If she was walking through a graveyard, and saw it she’d think he was somebody unusual, somebody special. Geoff talked to his brother as if they were standing beside each other. He told him how difficult it was letting go of him. How could he stop missing him without erasing him from his heart, and mind?
"I’m really scared, Bobby. How can I open myself up to anybody when I know how awful losing them feels?"
He stood with his hands in his pockets, and his eyes closed. Glenn thought he might be praying, and wondered if she was supposed to join him. Silently his hand moved to take hers.
"Are you going to marry me?"
Glenn squeezed his hand. "Your brother kind of predicted this. The last time I talked to him."
"How’s that?"
"He ordered me to go home, and find someone like you to have a life with."
"And, did you? I’ve got to know. Be fair. Tell me now. Even if it’s ‘maybe’. There are so many things we have no control over. Committing myself to loving you is something I can do. Otherwise, I have to start letting go."
"Have you thought about what we’d tell our kids when they ask how daddy proposed to Mommy?"
"No problem, you’ll just make up a lie anyway. Is that a ‘maybe’? I think I heard a ‘maybe’."
"Did not."
"Did too."
"Gosh, you’re annoying."
He twined his fingers through hers, and pulled her close. "That’ll probably get on your nerves in about forty or fifty years."
"Or sooner." She smiled.
"Yep," he said, searching her eyes. "That definitely was a ‘maybe’."
"Look," she said. "I agree that we could have the foundation for something. I’d even go so far as to say that it could turn out to be lasting. But, I have to learn how to be part of the human race, before I can even think about being a wife. I’ve never been a daughter, or even a sister before. And, I’m pretty darn sure neither of us is ready for marriage. Especially you, young man."
"Okay, so I’ll try to grow up."
"Just as long as you don’t grow up too much. We can’t possibly have a successful relationship whereI’m the mature one. That’s way too scary."
"Positively chilling." He put her hand in his coat pocket. "You want to tell Bobby good-bye?"
Glenn nodded, and looked down at the grave. She wasn’t sure she could say it out loud without falling apart. The image of his dead face still haunted her on occasion, and probably always would. She had found ways to come to terms with it. But, she suspected she’d never cease to ache just a little bit whenever she thought of him.
"How about," she whispered, to Geoff, "if we just say, ‘see ya later’?"
"Perfect. That’s my girl."
There was something different about Glenn’s apartment when she returned to it. She combed her hair with the fingers of both hands, and went to the bedroom for clean clothes. She pulled a red cotton sweater over her head, and looked through her hamper for her favorite stretch pants. When she couldn’t find them she went to look in the bathroom. While she was there she scrubbed her face, cleaned her teeth, and brushed her hair. Then, she remembered her pants were on the other side of her bed. On the way back she saw something out the corner of her eye, something she should have noticed as soon as she came in.
The last time she saw her camera bag was on Burnside Bridge. Now it was in her living room. Nothing to fear. The government agents had returned it. All she had to do was call, and confirm it. Her eyes moved from one side of the room to the other. She wet her lips, and walked to the front door. She picked up the Louisville slugger, and rested it on her shoulder. It wasn’t a big apartment. The only area she hadn’t searched yet was the bedroom closet.
She crept up to the door, and flung it open. It was the same disorganized mess it had always been. She went back to the living room. Had she checked the shower? In half a minute she was standing in front of it trying to summon up X-ray vision to see through the curtain. She swung the bat, chipping the porcelain.
"YO!"
She screamed, and swung the bat, missing Jacqmel’s chin by a hair.
"Whoa!" he yelled, jumping back. "What did I do?"
Glenn dropped the bat, and threw her arms around him. "I’m so glad to see you."
"Yeah, well, I did asked Santa for a concussion, but how did you know?"
"I’m a little jumpy. Have you been around? Did I have any visitors?"
"Not exactly. I caught somebody sneakin’ out your back door a couple days ago."
"Did you see who it was?" Glenn asked.
"It was too dark. Seemed small like, kinda girlish. I thought it might be you."
"Is that all?"
"It’s been real quiet. No stabbin’s, no shootin’s, nothing," Mel said.
"Maybe there’s something to all that ‘miracle of Christmas’ nonsense after all."
"Maybe. My dad is back in town, and he says he might stay this time. Mama almost believes him."
"Do you?" Glenn asked.
"I don’t know. Well, I just came over to wish you a Merry Christmas from Mom and me. She had me bring you a pound of her famous cherry fudge. I put it on the counter, there. I’ll talk to ya later. Take care o’ yourself."
"Don’t I always? Thank your mom from me. Merry Christmas."
Glenn closed the door, and picked up her camera case. It was smeared with mud, and ripped at the corner. She opened it, and found a scrap of paper lying on top of her long lens. She read it, then sank down on the edge of the couch.
Sadie was alive, probably thousands of miles away, in some Third World country plotting a bloody coup. Did Justin Knight know she was alive? Probably. Would he warn Glenn? Probably not. She was on her own. Should
she worry? She smoothed the note out on her knee, and stared at the four words written in crimson ink.
Don’t get too comfortable.
Glenn felt a tingle run along her spine. Then, a strange sense of peace came over her, like God was in heaven, and all was right with the world. Knowing Sadie was out there should have been terrifying. But, Glenn felt a kinship with her. They were sisters under the skin somehow, and knowing she hadn’t drowned made Glenn breathe easier, too. They were both survivors of the Little Antietam, and she wished her well. After all, Sadie could have left something a lot more lethal in Glenn’s apartment if that’s what she had wanted.
"Well, I gotta give it to you, Sadie. You kept your end of the deal. Thanks for returning my gear." Glenn lifted the bag onto her lap. "Good luck, girlfriend. Keep your headlights on.
She read the note once more, and tucked it into the zipper pocket of her camera bag for safekeeping.
Don’t get too comfortable.
Good advice. And, she planned to take it.