Page 105 of Just Business

“Cook doesn’t clean.”

“But—”

But it was his birthday. He didn’t need the reminder. As light and good as the day had been—the best since the accident—the weight was still there. No phone calls. No cards. No family. “But nothing, Justin. Besides, you have homework.”

Justin’s shoulders dropped, but he retreated to the living room anyway.

It didn’t take Eli too long to clean what wouldn’t go in the dishwasher. He set the machine to washing.

From the couch, Justin looked up. “Movie?”

Eli leaned against the doorway between the rooms and shook his head. His skin itched and mind buzzed—too many memories and feelings threatening to trickle up and overwhelm him. He glanced back at the clock on the stove. 7:13. Still early enough. “I think I need to walk.”

A thoughtful frown from Justin. “Do you want company?”

“No,” he said, his throat tightening around the words spoken and unspoken. “Not tonight.”

Justin’s smile was sad, but at the same time, warming. “I understand.”

Maybe he did, too.

“But take your phone? In case you end up in Polish Hill or Swissvale or downtown or somewhere else miles from here? I’ll come get you.”

That stung a bit, but he sometimes wandered a bit too far on his walks. “Ordering me now?”

“In this?” Justin drew himself up out of the slouch on the sofa. “Yeah. I am.”

That Justin could? That Eli let him? Made all the difference. “Good.” Eli pushed off the doorframe.

Coat, scarf, gloves, cane—and phone—later, Eli stepped out into the cold night. The dry air stole his breath for a moment, but it also felt clean. Pure. Pouring into his lungs and purging out the chatter and thoughts that wanted to turn this good day into a pit of morass and misery.

Maybe someday, he could reclaim this day from the past. Eli put one foot in front of the other, and set off down the street. Cold and clear, no snow blocked his way. Stars hung like splinters of glass in the sky, glittering between buildings and trees, despite the effort of the street lamps to blot them out. A perfect night. Peaceful.

In his mind, he told himself he was walking at random, with no destination in mind. Yet somehow he ended up here, again, like every other birthday.

Staring at the front door of his parents’ house.

They hadn’t moved. Nor had the house changed much from the outside. Sure, the plants—all dead now but for the rhododendron—were a bit different. But the door remained the same. The windows. Even the lacy curtains glowing with light from within.

His fingers itched to touch the mezuzah affixed to the doorjamb while he recited the blessing.

Strange, that. He had one on his house—bought in Israel, no less—but rarely ever thought of it. When was the last time he had the parchment checked? Why was he even thinking of this now?

Eli stared at the door.

Every other birthday, he’d walked away in anger, content with his break from the past. This time, the anger wasn’t there. He had Justin. He had a future. Friends.

Family? Eli clutched the phone in his pocket. Maybe. Maybe he had a family, too. He could only hope and wait and see. The past, though... He’d let that rule his life foryears.

Time for a change.

Eli took a breath of the clean night air, blew out a puff of cloud, and strode to the door. Before he could reconsider, he rang the bell.

Too many heartbeats and a dry swallow later, his father opened the door. His lips parted as if to speak, then flattened into a hard, unforgiving line. His father’s grip on the side of the door had turned his knuckles white.

“Jaco, who is it?” Eli’s mother joined him at the door. Same openmouthed gasp, though she didn’t close her lips.

“May I come in?” The tightness of his throat hadn’t lessened, but he spoke anyway.