First Class Killing

Chapter 24

THE STONE STEPS ON THE BANK OF THE Charles River were dark and deserted. Jamie wasn’t there yet. I had gotten a good night’s sleep and rolled out of bed with a lot of energy. The fresh air felt good.

In the early-morning darkness, all the sounds were magnified. Early-fall leaves drifted across the stone steps, dead and dried, pointed tips brushing the ground like fingernails. Across the river down at the salt-and-pepper bridge, the sound of the red line blasted through deep quiet that seemed to rise up from the river like fog.

Stretching would have been a good idea. On a cool morning like this, my perennially tight hamstring had the feel of hardened chewing gum. But I hated stretching, so instead I watched the rowers out on the water. I loved to watch them on the river early in the morning, knifing through the black water in their thin slices of boat. The solo rowers seemed especially peaceful.

I glanced up and saw Jamie coming over the footbridge. It wasn’t light enough to see his face, but I recognized the way he walked. When he got closer, I saw that he was elegantly disheveled, as if he’d reached into a dark closet and pulled out whatever was on top of a pile of really nice running gear.

“It’s cold,” he said. He bounced on the balls of his feet, hands squeezed into fists at his side, shoulders pulled forward. “Which way do you usually go?”

“West. This way.” I pointed us in the right direction, and we were off. He ran faster than my normal pace; his legs were longer. I was huffing and puffing before we even got to the Mass Avenue Bridge, and even though I didn’t want to, I had to give in.

“Jamie, we have three and a half miles to go. Can we ease off the pace?”

“Oh, sorry.” He slowed, and I felt better as we crossed the river, running through the pools of light draped around the bottom of the streetlights. The wind, as usual, pushed hard against us on that stretch.

It felt strange being with Jamie. Or maybe it was the strangeness that felt strange. I wanted to try to make it go away, maybe by telling him what I was really doing, that I was starting a new career. I wanted to share my excitement with him. But I had to find just the right approach, just the right-

“Za, what’s going on with you?”

I reached up and wiped the moisture from my cheek with the back of a dry hand. The cool air in the morning always made my right eye tear up. Never my left, only my right.

“What do you mean?”

“How’s this flight attendant thing working out for you? Do you like it?”

“Yeah. Sure. It’s okay.”

“How long do you think you’ll do it?”

“I don’t know.” We hit the other bank of the river. The second we made the turn east, the wind disappeared.

Jamie cleared his throat. “I don’t mean to be patronizing. I really don’t, but are you doing it because you couldn’t find anything else?”

“No, I found a job. A management job earlier this year, but-”

“You did? That’s great. What was it?” Something snapped into place for him as he went from uncomfortable uncertainty to relief. It was in his voice, as though we could now be friends again. We were back on the same page. My eye would not stop tearing.

“VP of operations with a start-up carrier.”

“Impressive. I guess it depends on how big, though. Could be a big title with no responsibility. Stock options?”

“Yeah, but-”

“Salary increase?”

“It was, but-”

“Bonus?”

“Yes, but obviously I didn’t take it.”

“Why not?”

“For one thing, it was in Detroit, but that wasn’t-”

“I can remember when you’d move anywhere for the right opportunity.” We were passing the Harvard boathouse and the boats that were docked there. In another month or two, the plastic coverings would come out, and they would spend the coldest months of the winter shrink-wrapped. “But,” he said, “I’m sure that gets old. I can see why you wouldn’t want to live in Detroit, anyway.”

He was quiet after that. All I heard was his steady breathing and his feet hitting the pavement.

“Look,” I said, “I know it seems strange to be doing something so different, but isn’t that okay? We don’t have to keep doing the same thing just because we’ve always done it, right? That’s what we said the other night about respecting each other’s choices?”

I kept my eyes on the path in front of me. It was still dark, and I didn’t want to trip and fall down.

“Are you gun-shy? Is it because of the Logan thing?”

“I am not gun-shy. This is my choice.” I started to run faster. He caught up easily.

“Because that would be perfectly understandable if you needed a break.”

We made the turn at the Museum of Science, and I was running full out, setting the pace the way I had when we were kids and I had been the one with the longer legs. Jamie wasn’t even breathing hard, but I knew I was reaching my limit. I made it around the next corner and down to the boathouse before I gave out.

“I’m stopping.” I bent over, breathing hard, and put my hands on my knees. Sweat clung to the underarms of my running suit and dripped from my face. The cool morning air gave me a chill.

Jamie walked in circles, hands on his hips. He seemed to be winding himself tighter with every revolution.

I took a few more deep breaths and stood up. “Why are you being this way?”

“What way?”

“Why can’t you be excited for me, no matter what choice I make, and not make me feel ashamed for wanting something different from you? You’re just like Walter.” I paused to let that sink in. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t have to. He crossed his arms, and his neck stiffened. “These past few years, Jamie, I feel around you exactly the way I used to feel around him. I expected it from him. I never expected it from you.”

“How do I make you feel?”

“Disappointing.”

With his arms still folded, he shifted his weight back and stared across the river at the gorgeous canvas of lights that lined the Cambridge side. He came back and leaned over the way I was. “I’m sorry. I’m not saying any of this right. I’d like to see you do what you want to do and not what you have to do.”

“That’s exactly what I’m doing.”

“Okay.” He put his hand on my back. “Are you all right? Getting too old for this?”

“Hey…” I stood up straight. “I’m a little out of shape is all. Give me two minutes.”

“Can I ask you one more thing?” He stared straight down the running path, even though there was nothing there to see. It was still too dark. “How can you afford to live in your neighborhood on what you make?”

That made me smile. It was probably the question he had been dying to ask all along. As with Walter, money and the things it could buy meant a lot to Jamie. “The owner of my unit is a trustee of the building. He hired me to do the condo association’s books every quarter, and it partially offsets my rent. I don’t have a lot of spare cash, but I’m doing fine.”

“If you need money, Za, will you ask me? Will you promise me that?”

If in his mind money equaled love, then I could take the offer as a good thing, and I did. “If I need help, I promise to ask you. Thank you.”

He stiffened his arms and clapped his hands together. “How far from here?”

“Half a mile back to the footbridge.”

“Do you think you can make it?”

“Let’s go.”

We took off again. Maybe I would wait until next time to tell him about my new career.

The run felt good. It had been a while since I’d run that far. Later in the morning, after I had come back from the grocery store, I had reason to feel even more pleased that I had gotten it in, because I was about to become very busy. Angel had called.

So doll, I have good news, and I have good news. You passed your test. Good for you, and I hope itwasgood for you. To celebrate, we’re taking you out for a shindig. Be ready at nine o’clock tonight. We’ll come and get you.