“Thank you for your hospitality,” he said. “It’s a lot of hospitality. Most people in the city, they don’t even let you in the front door. They figure, they don’t know you, and . . . well. You know.”
“I have the dogs,” she said, and left it at that.
Speaking of the dogs, they both sat at attention, staring. Shifting their gazes back and forth between Raymond and their owner as if watching a ball being lobbed back and forth over the net in a tennis match. Their tails wagged, making a swishing sound on the kitchen tiles.
“Bad boys,” the woman said. “No begging. Bed!” The dogs collapsed their ears and slunk away. “So, tell me about yourself, Raymond. That was your name, right? Raymond?”
“Yes, ma’am. But I’m not sure what there is to tell.”
“You’re in high school?”
“Yes, ma’am. I’m a junior.”
“What do you go out for?”
“Go out for?”
“You know. What will it say in your yearbook? You went out for sports? Or you were in the chess club? Or on the debating team?”
“No, ma’am. Nothing like that. I’m afraid the yearbook people won’t have much to say about me.”
“So what do you do when you’re not in school?”
“Well. These days I help out this old woman.”
“Millie.”
“Right. And before that . . . and when I’m not doing that . . . I like to read. I read a lot. Nonfiction, mostly. I read books about political leaders, and wars, and uprisings, and . . . well, history. But not only history. I like to read about the world. Learn more about it. But it can be the world the way it is now. You know. More like social studies. Like, for example, I’m not really religious, exactly, but I read about different religions. Because that helps you learn more about the way things are. The way people are. And why.”
He took another bite of breakfast. It was cooling off fast. But she had been nice enough to serve it to him. If she wanted him to talk, it seemed like the least he could do. He dug into the asparagus. He wasn’t fond of asparagus as a rule. But covered in that rich sauce . . . Raymond figured she could pour that sauce on a pile of cardboard, and he’d happily wolf it down.
“I’m Catholic,” she said.
“I figured.”
“How did you know?”
“Because you crossed yourself when you found out Millie wasn’t some woman your husband had been seeing.”
“Oh. Right.”
They ate in silence for a minute or two.
“You have a girlfriend?” she asked.
“No, ma’am.”
“Boyfriend?”
“No. I’m not gay.”
“I didn’t mean any offense.”
“I didn’t take offense.”
“So you just don’t have a girlfriend now. But you will. The high school years are awkward. It’ll happen for you.”
Raymond opened his mouth to answer. But he had no idea what the answer should be. He felt he likely would not have a girlfriend later, but he was in no way prepared to tell this relative stranger why he thought so. So why even begin?
He was saved by the bell. Literally.
Her cell phone rang. It was sitting on the table beside her plate. She grabbed it up. Listened for a long moment. Then she spoke into it.
“Oh. Oh no. That’s too bad. Yeah, I know how you hate that. I’m sorry, hon. See you in a minute, then.”
She clicked off the call and set the phone down.
“Luis will be right up. He’s just stepping into the elevator. His client was a no-show. He always turns off his phone when he’s about to be with a client, and he forgot to turn it back on until he was just getting out of his car. You know, down in the garage just now. He hates no-shows, so he might not be in the best mood. But don’t worry. He doesn’t bite.”
Raymond finished his food quickly. And silently.
Just as he was swallowing the last bite, he heard the apartment door open. Heard the dogs whimpering in their excitement. Heard Luis Velez greet them with “Hey, boys,” and “Good boys.”
The man stepped into the kitchen, the dogs winding around his legs in their joy, and looked at Raymond with a withering gaze. As if Raymond should be nowhere on the premises. He turned his gaze onto his wife.
“You just open the door for people you don’t know?” he asked her.
Raymond’s heart jumped up into his throat.
“The dogs’ll take care of me,” she said.