Part 101 (1/2)
”You're sweet.”
”Did you really eat sardines on sorbet toast?”
”Don't knock it. It's better than it sounds. Lots better.”
”You can keep it.”
”Listen to Mr Musso and Frank -- boy, you've got no business criticizing anyone else's food choices.”
He heaved a happy sigh. ”I love you, Suzanne Church.”
”You're a good man, Lester Banks.”
Perry met them at the breakfast table the next morning as Suzanne was fiddling with the espresso machine, steaming soy milk for her latte. He wore a pair of Lester's sloppy drawstring pants and a t-s.h.i.+rt for a motorcycle shop in Kansas City that was spotted with old motor-oil stains.
”Bom dia,” he said, and chucked Lester on the shoulder. He was carrying himself with a certain stiffness, and Suzanne thought, *Here it comes; he's going to say goodbye. Perry Gibbons, you b.a.s.t.a.r.d.*
”Morning,” Lester said, brittle and chipper.
Perry dug around on Suzanne's non-medicated food-shelf for a while and came up with a bagel for the toaster and a jar of peanut b.u.t.ter. No one said anything while he dug around for the big bread knife, found the cutting board, toasted the bagel, spread peanut b.u.t.ter, and took a bite. Suzanne and Lester just continued to eat, in uncomfortable silence. *Tell him,* Suzanne urged silently. *Get it over with, d.a.m.n you.*
”I'm in,” Perry said, around a mouthful of bagel, looking away.
Suzanne saw that he had purple bags under his eyes, like he hadn't slept a wink all night.
”I'm staying. If you'll have me. Let's make some stuff.”
He put the bagel down and swallowed. He looked back at Lester and the two old comrades locked eyes for a long moment.
Lester smiled. ”All right!” He danced a shuffling step, mindful of his sore hips. ”All right, buddy, *f.u.c.kin' A*! Yeah!”
Suzanne tried to fade then, to back out of the room and let them do their thing, but Lester caught her arm and drew her into an embrace, tugging on her arm with a strength she'd forgotten he had.
He gave her a hard kiss. ”I love you, Suzanne Church,” he said. ”You're my savior.”
Perry made a happy sound behind her.
”I love you, too, Lester,” she said, squeezing his skinny, brittle back.
Lester let go of her and she turned to face Perry. Tears p.r.i.c.ked his eyes, and she found that she was crying too. She gave him a hug, and felt the ways that his body had changed since she'd held him back in Florida, back in some forgotten time. He was thicker, but still solid, and he smelled the same. She put her lips close to his ear and whispered, ”You're a good man, Perry Gibbons.”
Lester gave his notice that morning. Though it was 8PM in Tehran when Lester called, Sammy was at his desk.
”Why are you telling me this, Lester?”
”It says in my contract that I have to give my notice to you, specifically.”
”Why the h.e.l.l did I put that there?” Sammy's voice sounded far away -- not just in Iran. It sounded like he had travelled through time, too.