by Les Weil
"Glass on the windowsill," Jesse said.
"Join me?"
Jesse shook his head. Healy poured about an inch and drank it down. Then he capped the bottle and pushed it back across the desk toward Jesse. Jesse didn't stir. He was too tired to put it away.
"How long you been on this job?" Healy said.
"About six months."
"Nice start," Healy said.
After Healy left, Jesse sat for a while until he got the strength to get up. He walked past the television crew without speaking, and got in his car and went home. He was so tired it was hard to focus on the road. The sun was up by the time he got home and there was a different tone to the black winter water in the harbor. He parked in his slot and walked heavily up the steps to his condominium. When he opened the door he heard the television. He closed the door quietly behind him and took out his gun and walked softly to the living room. Sitting on the sofa with her feet up on the coffee table watching the early-morning news was his ex-wife.
"Jesus Christ, Jenn," Jesse said.
She stood and smiled at him.
"You're okay," she said. Jesse nodded.
"The janitor let me in," Jenn said. "I told him I was your wife."
"You're not," Jesse said. "We're divorced."
"I saw on the news about last night," Jenn said.
"It's over," Jesse said. "What the hell are you doing here?"
"I was worried about you. I missed you."
"Jenn, I don't know," Jesse said. "You still seeing that other woman?"
"No."
Jenn smiled.
"I don't know either, Jesse. But here I am. At least you could hug me."
Jesse realized suddenly that he was still holding his gun. He put it back on his hip, and walked very slowly around the coffee table.
"Yes," he said. "I could do that."