Page 120 of I Am the Messenger

"Me, too."

I step out into the hot air of late afternoon and summer.

Christmas Eve's on Thursday this year, which is when everyone's coming over for cards, turkey, and Marv's big kiss with the Doorman.

I ring Audrey about tomorrow and she cancels a date with the boyfriend. I think she could tell by the urgency in my voice that I needed her to come out with me.

As soon as we've sorted that out, I go for a walk to Milla's place, on Harrison Avenue.

She opens the door, and it seems frailty has overcome her in the past weeks. It's been a while since I've visited, and she glows upon my arrival. She stands crookedly at first but straightens when she sees my face.

"Jimmy!" Her voice soars. "Come in, come in!"

I do as she says, and when I enter the lounge room, I see she's been trying to read Wuthering Heights on her own, but she hasn't made it far.

"Oh yes," she says when she comes in with the tea. "I've been trying to read it without you, but it's not quite working."

"You want me to read you some now?"

"That would be nice." She smiles.

I love that old woman's smile. I love the patches of human wrinkles on her face and the joy in her eyes.

"Would you like to come to my place on Christmas Day?" I ask her.

She puts the tea down and answers. "Yes, of course, I'd love to. It's"--she lets herself look at me--"it's getting lonelier and lonelier without you, Jimmy."

"I know," I say. "I know."

I put my hand on hers and rub it gently. It's times like this I pray that souls can find each other after death. Milla and the real Jimmy. I pray for that.

"'Chapter six,'" I read. "'Mr. Hindley came home to the funeral; and--a thing that amazed us, and set the neighbors gossiping right and left--he brought a wife with him....'"

Monday is a full day working in the city. I pick up a lot of people and seem able to weave nicely through the traffic for once. Often my goal as a cabdriver is simply not to annoy other drivers. Today it's working.

I'm home just before six, eat with the Doorman, and pick up Audrey around seven. I'm wearing my best jeans, my boots, and an old red shirt that's faded to orange.

Audrey answers the door, and I can smell perfume.

"You smell good," I say.

"Well, thank you, kind sir," and she allows me to kiss her hand. She wears a black skirt, nice tall shoes, and a sandy-colored blouse. It all matches well, and her hair is tied back into a plait with a few strands falling down the side.

We walk the street, and she has her arm linked to mine.

When we look at ourselves, we laugh. We can't help it.

"But you smell so good," I tell her again, "and you look great."

"So do you," she replies, and thinks a moment. "Even in that atrocious shirt."

I look down.

"I know, it's a shocker, isn't it?"

But Audrey doesn't mind. She almost skips or dances as she walks, and she says, "So what movie are we seeing?"

I try to hide my look of self-congratulation because I know it's a favorite of hers. "Cool Hand Luke."