Chapter 7: Tommy at the Door

On Friday evening Tommy was sitting on the stairs outside my apartment with a gift bag between his knees.

I stopped on the landing with my key in my hand.

He stood up fast, and the bag swung against the railing.

"Pao," he said. "Don't be mad. I took an early flight and I didn't want to call, because you'd say no."

"I would have said no."

"That's why I didn't call."

He smiled his crooked smile, the one that had worked on me for three years.

It did not work now, and I watched him notice.

Behind me, the stairwell door opened.

Seth came up the last flight with a gray paper bag, and he stopped two steps below the landing when he saw us.

"I came to ask about the jacket," he said to me, in the same quiet voice he used at work. "It's Friday. But I can come back."

"Stay," I said.

He looked at me.

"Stay close, please," I said. "I'd like you here."

"Okay," he said, and he climbed to the landing and stood a little behind my shoulder, with his hands in his pockets.

Tommy's eyes went from him to me.

"Who's this?"

"This is Seth. He's my team lead."

"Your team lead stands in your hallway on a Friday night?"

"He asked first," I said. "That's more than you did."

The door of 3A opened a crack, and then opened wider.

The man with the folding chairs stepped out in his slippers, carrying a bag of trash that he did not seem to be going anywhere with.

On the floor below, I heard the couple from 2B stop talking.

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