"Yeah," I said. "Me too."
Sal came back for the card. Nathan stood up. Slightly too fast. Nathan Cross, who did nothing without consideration, standing up slightly too fast, which I was absolutely filing.
Outside it was cold and the street was doing its Boston thing. We stood on the sidewalk.
"I always drive carefully," I said, preemptively.
Nathan looked at me.
"Getting ahead of it," I said.
"Your approach," Nathan said, "to things that should be done carefully." A pause. "Is not fine."
"You keep saying that."
"It keeps being true."
The streetlight was doing something to the angles of his face that I was choosing not to think about at length.
"Most of the time," he said.
I heard the rest of it.
He stepped forward and kissed me. On the sidewalk. In public. Brief and certain, the way Cross did everything, but public, which was Nathan making a visible choice on a Boston street where anyone could see.
He stepped back.
"Next week," he said. "I'll pick the place."
I stood on the sidewalk as he walked to his car.
Next week.Nathan Cross had assumed next week. Had stated it as a fact and walked to his car like it was already in the calendar, like there was no question, like this was just what was happening now.
I walked to my car still smiling and the smile didn't go anywhere the whole drive home. I didn't perform it for anyone because there was no one to perform it for. It was just my face doing something true in the dark of my own car on the way home from a pizza place.
It felt right.
21
“Yo, Morr. You coming with us?" Jenkins appeared at my elbow. "We're hitting up Broderick's."
"Can't."
Jenkins flinched like I'd just kicked his dog. "Huh?"
"I said can't."
"You've said that three times this week."
"I've been busy three times this week."
"Busy with what?" Jenkins asked.
"Things," I said.
"What things?"
"Jenkins."
