Page 92 of Ewan

“Thank you so much for coming,”Ezra says, inviting me in.

He gestures at the small, empty one-bedroom apartment.

“When did you get it?” I ask, turning to him.

“This morning?”

He smiles, still bruised. Still limping. But with a big smile on his face.

“How much?”

“That’s not why I asked you to come here and see it. Besides, I’ve already paid for it.”

I glance at him, and his smile broadens.

“I worked and made good money this summer in Colorado.”

“While living with that woman?”

“Mm-hmm. She knew about my work.”

“Work work? Or, um…?

“Work work. I worked in construction. It was good money. That’s how I bought my bike. It’s a used bike.”

“It was.”

“It’s in the shop now. They’ll fix it for me. I can’t use it now, anyway.”

I walk in, and he closes the door behind me. His rental comes with wooden floors, upgraded windows, a nice water view, and a small kitchen.

The place has new appliances.

The bathroom is small but clean.

“How much, Ezra?”

“I told you I don’t need your money.”

I look out the window and catch the sunlight reflected in the water, and the woman I spent time with today comes to mind.

What if…?

I push that thought back.

There’s no point in thinking about that.

I turn around and face him.

“How do you plan to pay for it from now on? The money will run out.”

“I need a job. The same kind of job, if possible. I liked it.”

“You can’t work now. You need a few weeks to heal. Maybe months.”

“I’m sure I’ll be fine in a few weeks. Right now, I can cover a couple of months of rent and living expenses. I’ll find some work in the meantime. There a lot of stores in the neighborhood. A few Irish pubs, too,” he says. “I could work in one of them part-time.”

“You’re not hitting those pubs.”

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