Jason shook his head, clearly embarrassed, as I followed him out the main doors and onto the street. We walked a little bit and then I said, “So it’s not just Tracey and Dave who think so. You are brilliant.”
“Three people does not make a consensus,” he said, pulling his hat down over his ears. “So. Did you find what you were looking for?”
“Sort of,” I told him. We kept walking, crossing the street. A few blocks ahead, I could see Luna Blu, its signature azure awning in the distance. “I’m closer than I was, at any rate.”
We walked another short block. The snow was still on the ground, but gray and dirty looking now, hard and slippery beneath our feet. “Well, that’s a start,” he said. “That’s good, right?”
I nodded. This was true. But anyone can begin. It was the part with all the promise, the potential, the things I loved. More and more, though, I was finding myself wanting to find out what happened in the end.
“There you are!” Deb said as I came up the stairs. “We were getting worried! I thought you were coming right at four.”
“It’s only five after,” I pointed out.
“Yes, but, Mclean,” Dave, who was sitting cross-legged on the floor, said, “you know that the STOW waits for no man. Or woman.”
“Sorry,” I said, flicking him as I passed. “I had something to do. I’ll make it up, I promise.”
“Yes, you will,” he said.
Deb, over at the table, began rummaging through some pieces, humming to herself as I bent down over my sector. For a long time, we worked in silence; the only sounds were distant voices from the kitchen downstairs. Hearing them, I kept thinking about Jason, what he’d said to me about Harvard and the choices he’d made. Amazing how you could get so far from where you’d planned, and yet find it was exactly where you needed to be.
About a half hour later, there was a loud knock from the bottom of the stairs—BANG! BANG! BANG!—and Deb and I both jumped. Dave, though, hardly looked fazed as he called out over one shoulder, “Yo. We’re up here.”
A moment later, the door creaked open, the sound followed by a sudden, bustling rush of voices and footsteps. Then Ellis appeared at the top of the steps, with Riley and Heather behind him.
“Oh my God,” Heather, who was in a red jacket and short skirt with thick tights beneath it, said, “what is this place?”
“It’s called an attic,” Ellis told her. “It’s the top floor of a building.”
“Shut up,” she replied, smacking the back of his head.
“Enough,” Riley said in a tired voice. Then she looked at Dave. “I know we’re early. But being stuck in the car with both of them was about to make me insane.”
“Understood,” Dave replied. “I’ll be done here in a sec.”
“So this is where you’ve been spending all your time,” Ellis said, sliding his hands in his pockets as he walked along one side of the model. “Reminds me of all that action-figure stuff you used to play with.”
“It was war staging,” Dave said loudly, “and very serious.”
“Of course it was.”
Dave rolled his eyes, fastening one last house onto his sector. Then he stood up, wiping his hands on his jeans. “Okay, that one’s done. I’ll start up the next when I come in Saturday.”
Deb glanced over, checking his work. “Sounds good.”
“You’re leaving?” I asked.
“Previous engagement,” he replied, as Heather and Ellis walked over to the windows, looking down at the street. Riley was still standing over the model, taking it all in. “We have this dinner thing we do every month. It’s kind of mandatory.”
“What he means is,” Ellis piped up, “the food is so good you don’t want to miss it for anything. Or, um, anyone.”
Heather snorted, glancing at me. Riley said, “Let’s just go, okay? You know how she gets if we’re late.”
Ellis and Heather started for the door, with Dave falling in behind them. Riley took one last look across the model, then said, “You guys are welcome to come. I mean, if you want.”
“Where are you going, exactly?” I asked.
“My house,” she replied. “And Ellis is right. The food is amazing.”
“I don’t know,” I said. “It sounds great, but we’ve got this schedule, and owe time . . .”
“. . . but it can be readjusted,” Deb finished for me. I looked at her. “I mean, we can make it up. It’s not a problem.”
“Oh,” I said, surprised she was so quick to agree to this. “Well, great. Sure, then. We’d love to.”
Riley nodded, then turned to follow Dave and Heather, who were at the top of the stairs. Over her shoulder, she said, “Fair warning, though. My family’s kind of . . . crazy.”
“Isn’t everyone’s?” I replied.
“I guess,” she said with a shrug. “Come on. You can ride with us.”
“I know what you’re thinking,” Ellis said, hitting the key remote in his hand. “It’s pretty much the most stunning example of vehicular perfection ever.”
We all stood there, watching as the back door of the sky blue van slid open, revealing two rows of seats, the rear of which was stacked with soccer balls and various pairs of cleats.