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“Eh?” The noise from inside was soft, but footsteps on creaking floorboards heralded the approach of the man who owned it. Sergeant First Class Harry Lenardo squinted a little, trying to make out who was beyond the door. Then, his face beetled into an enormous grin.
“Will. Watcha doin’ out there like a stranger? Come on in.” He pushed the door out, extending a hand simultaneously. Will shook it enthusiastically. “You’ll have a beer?”
Will was on the brink of saying no, when the wall of sadness that surrounded them flared up. “I’ve only got a minute,” he said honestly. “But I’ll take one for the road.”
“So short? What’s the rush?”
“It’s a long story and believe me, the less you know the better.”
Harry cackled. “There’s my boy. Always up to something exciting.”
“Yeah, believe me, this is excitement I could live without.”
Harry was a large man. Tall and strong, almost as strong as the day Will had met him eighteen years earlier. But he walked with a limp now, and his face was considerably more lined than the last time they’d seen each other. Then again, that had been the Christmas before. Almost a year ago.
Guilt was a weight on his soul. He should have made more of an effort. “How’ve you been keeping?”
“You know.” He shrugged, not pausing to turn and face Will. Will was glad. He couldn’t see the grief on Harry’s face without experiencing a corresponding surge of the same emotion.
“Lights okay?”
“Since when?” Will laughed, watching as Harry fished two bottles out of the fridge. Over the top of his fuzzed head, Will could make out row after row of beer as well as a few opened tins of baked beans.
“Doc’s orders.” He pushed a bottle over, his bushy grey brows raised heavenward. “I told him I was too old to start thinkin’ of my heart and so on, but somehow I ended up buying these things anyway.”
“Bet they taste just the same.”
“Yeah.” He cracked the top off his bottle and propped a hip against the kitchen bench. “So what brings you through Jersey?”
“I need a favour.”
“Well, well, I’ll be damned, boy. All these years and I don’t think you’ve ever asked me for a thing.”
Except Maddie. The words were a heavy accusation they both ignored.
“I wouldn’t have come here, but it’s important.”
Harry pushed his brows together. “You’re always welcome, Will.”
Will swallowed. Damned tears cloyed at the back of his throat. He made a gruff sound and popped the top off his own beer. “Thanks.” He swallowed the foaming top, waiting for his emotions to get back in order.
“So? What is it? You said you’ve only got a minute and …”
“Hell-loo-ooo?” Her voice was like a whistle in the home. Will cringed, and shot Harry an apologetic look.
“You’ve got a young lady friend with you?” Harry prompted, his smile genuine seeming.
“God, no. She’s …”
Lilah walked into the kitchen at that moment, and Will sucked in a deep breath, as if seeing her for the first time. And he was, in a sense. He regarded her as Harry must have been. From the tip of her gleaming chestnut brown hair to her perfectly made up face, immaculate cream pant suit and stiletto heels (had she been wearing them all along?), Jalilah Mazroui was the picture of elegant regality.
“I told you to wait in the car.” His words were harsher than intended, but Lilah didn’t react.
“Hello, sir. How do you do?”
Harry cackled. “What kind of trouble are you in, Will?” Harry kept his eyes trained on Lilah as though she might turn into a two-headed snake at any moment.
“It’s really better for you not to know,” Will muttered, draining half of his beer. Lilah watched the gesture with fascination.
