Page 53 of Justice for Radar

He kissed me again and it was so bittersweet.

“Go on, now,” he grated. “Before I change my mind.”

I nodded and still didn’t trust myself to speak, instead turning and walking for the doors and disappearing into the sterile so-serous hush that all of our airports had become.

17

Radar…

“I think I cried the whole flight home,” she said with a rueful little laugh, and I put the cigar back in my mouth and laughed a little too.

I was sitting on my back patio, a stiff breeze blowing through my back yard, a fire going in my firepit.

I had a glass of the fucking good stuff on the arm of my chair to drown my sorrows in. Though our connection was good, the line clear, I swore I could feel every fucking mile between us and motherfucker if that didn’tkill.

“So, what are you going to do now that I’m out of your hair?” she asked slyly but her attempt at self-deprecating humor fell flat.

“First of all,” I said. “You were never any trouble and always a delight. Second of all, I’m going to work my ass off in an effort to fill the void of you not being here and to earn the money to come out there as soon as possible to be with you for as long as possible – rinse and repeat until we figure out where this is going and what we want to do.”

She sighed on the other end of the line, and it held relief and something else.

“What was that big sigh for?” I asked smiling.

“It sounds like a solid plan,” she said. “For me, too.”

“Yeah?” I asked quietly as the back slider off my living room opened behind me.

“Yeah,” she murmured.

Atlas dropped into the seat next to mine, picked up the bottle and raised it in silent cheers before pouring some in the glass I had set out for him.

“Speaking of work,” I said, blowing out a plume of smoke. “Atlas just got here. I’m going to have to call or text you later, babe.”

“That’s okay,” she said. “I should do laundry and catch up on some neglected chores. Get a shower and all of that.”

“You got a few extra hours thanks to the time difference,” I said.

“Just a few more hours of missing you,” she said, and I could hear the smile in her voice. Probably a forced one, because I could hear her sadness, too.

“Get at ‘cha as soon as I can, I promise.”

“Okay, tell Atlas I said ‘hi.’”

“I will. Kisses.”

“Bye,” she said on a giggle, and I hung up.

“Yo,” Atlas said. “She make it home alright?”

“She did,” I said, nodding.

“You alright?” he asked soberly, but not for long. He took a healthy sip of the alcohol in his glass, and I shook my head.

“Not remotely. I want her back, so let’s make that happen. First thing’s first—”

“Mariposa is gonna be fine, she head back yet?”

I nodded. “Yesterday, and I’d like to expedite that if we can.”

---