Page 36 of R Is For Revenge: Part One
Outside a horn honks and both of us jump. It’s late. The clock above the kitchen order window says 3:47 a.m.
I toss a one hundred dollar bill on the table and without speaking we head out into the night. The wind is brisk, cold, and she stands on the curb, arms crossed around that folder like it’s the only thing holding her together. Her hair’s come loose from its tie, strands framing her face. She looks exhausted, but she’s still got that stubborn tilt to her chin like she’s not going to ask for anything—not a ride, not help, not even a softer place to land.
“You’re not walking home,” I say.
She gives me a look. “I’ve done it before.”
“Not tonight.” I step closer. “It’s almost four a.m. I think you can survive a ride in a cab.”
She hesitates. Then nods. “Okay. But only if you don’t make it weird.”
“How is a cab ride weird,” I ask as I raise a hand and flag one down.
She snorts. “I meanweirdprofessionally.”
“Don’t worry about me.”
She doesn’t reply and we’re silent until as the cab rolls to a stop. I open the door, gesturing for her to get in. She slides across the back seat, and I follow without thinking twice.
She gives the driver her address, then leans against the window, the city lights painting streaks across her tired face.
We don’t talk at first. Not because there’s nothing to say. But because some moments don’t need to be filled. Some moments can’t be filled.
I watch her in the reflection of the glass. She’s still hugging that folder, eyes flicking across street signs and neon storefronts, lips slightly parted in thought. I wonder who she’s thinking about. Her brother? Her father?
“You ever gonna tell me what’s in that folder?” I ask.
“No,” she says. “I don’t think so.”
I nod. “Fair.” I’d managed to get a look at the inside sticker,Madison Long Term Care.I already know it’s where her brother is housed. I also know that costs have skyrocketed. Our economy isn’t exactly thriving.
We ride the rest of the way in silence. The cab slows in front of her building, an aging walk-up on a quiet street. It’s the kind of place that’s been standing too long to be shiny, but still solid enough to hold memories.
The cabbie turns back. “This it?”
Jules nods and reaches for the door handle.
“Hey,” I say before she can get out.
Jules pauses and for the first time on this ride home, looks at me.
“Yes?”
My mind is churning. Moving forward with thoughts I can’t help. Thinking of the plan that’s been percolating for hours now.
“I’m glad I ran into you. I have a proposition.”
“What?” She’s confused and I pounce.
“I’m have some business coming up. A week away at the most. I need someone like you to come along. It pays very well. You interested?”
“A week.”
I nod, smiling to myself at how easy this is.
“Where?”
“Belize.” Her eyes widen a bit and then she licks her bottom lip. I don’t look away. I want a taste.
