In the shadowed, boxlike room, the tip of Grace’s cigarette seemed to glow just a bit too brightly. Eric glanced over his shoulder, at what little sliver of window could be seen between the warped planks nailed into the peeling white frame. As though anyone on the outside could actually see the cigarette, like a beacon. When Grace exhaled her most recent drag with a heavy sigh, Eric twisted back toward her.

“You’re serious?”

“Yes, I’m serious. I wouldn’t have said it if I wasn’t.” She looked down at the cigarette between her long fingers, carelessly flicked the ashes onto the floor, then raised it again to her lips. The end of the filter was covered in the red lipstick she’d chosen to wear over the last ten years. “I’m going to quit smoking, too.”

They both knew that was a lie, but Eric slumped back in his chair. He scrubbed a work-worn hand over his cheeks and jaw. The skin had loosened with time, and what had been sandpapery scruff was turning into a soft, salt-and-pepper beard. Shuffling his feet to ease the tension in his back, Eric slowly shook his head.

“Are you even finishing this job?”

“Except for cleanup, yes.” Grace shifted in her seat, uncrossing her legs, then crossing them again. Her jeans were covered with dirt and dust, mostly from the room, but also from the work before she’d arrived at the rendezvous point. “I’ve got a plane waiting for me.”

“I don’t get it, Grace. Why?” Eric shoved his hand into the pocket of his cargo pants, sliding out his own pack of smokes. He tried to avoid smoking on the job, but when Grace pulled hers out, he usually wound up smoking, too.

“Because people are people, and sometimes we change our minds.”

Silence descended between the two as Eric flicked his lighter and took the first few drags from his own cigarette. Grace was intently focused on her hands, moving the cigarette about and examining her fingers, and then her nails. Every few moments, she’d take a small drag. Grace bounced her booted foot, becoming impatient with the silence.

“Is it retirement?”

“I told you. I changed my mind.”

Eric blew a few weak smoke rings into the air. “Hell of a time to change your mind.”

“I’m keeping my retirement package.”

“Keeping it? Or moving somewhere beyond extradition with all those offshore accounts of yours?”

“Little of both.”

After the final drag, Grace uncrossed her legs again and dropped the cigarette, stomping it out with the heel of her boot. Eric remained sprawled in his chair, blue eyes fixed on the woman who’d been his partner for the last eight years. She didn’t look tired, wavy black hair framing a face that looked young for her age.

“So… this is it, then.”

“Oh, don’t go getting all emotional on me now.” Grace lifted her head and fixed him with a look, eyes only slightly narrowed, a slight smirk betrayed by the dimple in her right cheek.

“I’m not emotional,” Eric protested. Finishing his smoke, he dropped the butt and crushed it with his boot. “I would’ve liked the opportunity to buy you a cake.”

“I’m not the cake eating kind of woman, Eric, and you know that.” A smile briefly lit up her face, quickly replaced by a shadow of sadness, which she quickly concealed by casting her eyes downward.

“Yes, well. I would’ve liked to get you a cake. Ridiculous, with those naked babies riding flying carrots.”

Grace’s laughter bounced around the small room. “Now that would’ve been something. I wouldn’t have eaten it, but I would’ve enjoyed the imagery.”

“And now you won’t get to. See what you’ve done by not telling me you’re… leaving?” The words felt odd as they came out of his mouth, as though he’d never planned on saying them.

What could he have expected, though? That they’d continue the job, far into old age? Running around together with canes or walkers? No. It had been coming. He supposed, though, that he’d always thought he was going to go first. Like one partner in a long marriage, except they were just coworkers.

No, more than coworkers. Friends. They’d moved beyond a simple working relationship.

“Look, I don’t owe anyone an explanation, and I said as much to the upper-ups. But if you really want a detailed explanation? I’m scaring myself. And I want to get away.”

Grace glanced toward the window behind Eric, squinting as though it might help her determine the moon’s position in the sky. She knew Eric was looking at her, and if she at least looked in his general direction, he wouldn’t get on her about a lack of eye contact. It wasn’t her favorite thing, making eye contact with people. Not lately, anyway, and that was just one part of what scared her.

“Hey.” Eric leaned forward in his chair, resting his elbows on his knees. “I’m not asking for every detail behind it. You want out, that’s your choice. And I’m not gonna sit here and try to talk you into staying.”

Grace snorted and sat back in her chair, busying herself with lighting another cigarette. “Oh, you mean like Bryant in HR?”

Eric laughed and nodded, pulling one more cigarette out of the pack to light it up. “Exactly. I’m not some kind of retention-minded jackass who’s gonna try to guilt you about making a life decision. Come on, now. I’m your partner.”

“I know. I’m just… on edge. And I will be until it’s done. Until I’m on that plane.”

Silence enveloped them again as the two lit their cigarettes and took their first drags. They took turns looking at each other, both reminiscing without needing to say a word. Grace thought they only thing that would make this moment better was a tumbler of whiskey.

“Well, then let’s get this one done and over with, and we can both get on with our lives.” Eric made another attempt at smoke rings, staring up at the metal support beams running the length of the ceiling. The rest of the warehouse looked much the same as this room, just much larger.

“Yeah.” Grace was quiet, staying still as she took a long drag off her cigarette. Before she’d even exhaled, Grace dropped the smoke on the ground, haphazardly crushing it out. “Just… one thing, Eric.”

He raised an eyebrow and watched Grace for a moment. “What’s that?”

She sat up, then pushed herself out of the seat, slowly stretching out her arms. “There’s… I mean, there’s more than one seat on the plane.”

“And?”

“You… ya know. You could come with me.” Grace shook her legs to encourage blood circulation. “It’s just an offer. A thought.”

Eric took his time finishing his cigarette. Not to torture Grace with the silence, but because he legitimately needed the time to think it over. The option of retiring now had its benefits. He didn’t have anything worth staying for back home, unless someone was going to count the studio apartment lacking in any sort of personal decor. He’d never spent much time there, anyway.

“What if I met you wherever you’re going?”

“One time only offer, unfortunately. Wouldn’t want to disclose private information.”

“Are there other people where we’re going?”

“Well, now you’re saying we. So there’s us.” She grinned. “Of course there’s other people. They likely don’t all speak English, so there’s that.”

“If I’m retiring, I’ll have time to learn another language.”

“There’s that, at least.” Grace began checking her belt holster and pockets. “So… have you made your decision?”

“Long as you finally figured out how to stop snoring when you sleep.”

“I told you, I had a cold!” Grace laughed, the sound bouncing around the room.

A groan came from the darkest corner of the room.

“Guess we should finish the job, then.” Eric stood and turned toward the corner, where their interrogation suspect was barely clinging to life chained to a chair and gagged with a three day old sock.

“Yeah. Probably should.”

“Otherwise, we won’t get paid.”

Grace shook her head. “Freelancing is such a bitch.”

 

 

This work by Lin Clements is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International License.