Last Call

Jack tried to catch the troublemaker's eye in the rearview mirror to convey a silent ixnay. Cy didn't take the hint.

"I was just wondering about-"

"Hey, look, Rene: It's a Calvin Klein underwear billboard!"

" – you and that FBI agent," said Cy, finishing his thought.

Jack dismissed it with a wave of his hand. "Oh, I really don't think Rene wants to hear about that."

"She doesn't mind," said Rene.

A red Ferrari flew past them at double the speed limit. "Of course she doesn't," said Jack, barely audible.

"What's that you say?" said Cy.

For some reason, he was not going to let this drop. It was starting to feel as though the two of them had cooked up this little Mutt-and-Jeff routine for their own entertainment. Jack said, "Andie and I had two or three dates back in January. No big deal."

"January," he said, his face screwed up like a man dividing fractions in his head. "So, how long have you two known each other?"

"A lot longer than that," said Jack.

Rene definitely seemed to be enjoying this, but mercifully she spoke up. "I live in Africa."

"That's a good place to be from," said Cy.

"Well, I'm not from there. I've been ru

Cy seemed impressed. "Good for you."

"Thanks. But it's kind of tough on the love life. So Jack and I have this… understanding."

"You see other people?" said Cy.

"He sees other people," said Rene. "I'm way too busy for that. I come visit him every few months."

"Say what?" said Cy, now speaking to Jack. "Let me get this straight. This beautiful woman comes and visits you every so often. You show her a good time, she gives you lots of lovin'. Then she goes back to Africa and says it's fine and dandy for you to see other women?"

Jack didn't like the way Cy was making it sound. But that was basically it. "It's pretty unusual, I know."

"Unusual?" said Cy, shaking his head. "Man, Theo must hate your guts."

Jack could have explained that Theo wasn't jealous in the least, that Theo was nuts about Rene. But Theo liked Andie, too. And still in the back of Jacks mind was Theo's comment about longing for the woman who makes herself unavailable – the implication that Jack had cut Andie out of the picture only because she was the one who really wanted to be in it. But there he went again, overanalyzing everything.

You done, Swyteck?

"Yeah, Theo should hate me," said Jack.

"Turn here," said Cy

Jack headed up Douglas Road, the southwest entrance to Coconut Grove. The questionable area near the busy highway was Theo's childhood neighborhood. The worst of the old wooden shacks were long gone – including Theo's old house. They'd been razed and replaced by new single-family homes that were freshly painted in pastel colors. Much of the business district, however, retained the look and feel of the old ghetto. Groups of young men hanging out on the sidewalk with nowhere to go. Drug dealers and whores at work behind the boarded windows of dilapidated buildings. Rap music blaring from low-riding cars with metallic paint jobs and shiny chrome wheels. Bars and package stores marked by crude wooden signs that looked as if they'd been painted by Tom Sawyer on crack.

Cy suddenly fell quiet. He was sitting back in his seat, looking out the window. The dramatic mood swing reminded Jack of the time he and Theo had taken this same shortcut into the Grove. In the span of a single city block, Theo – just like his Uncle Cy – had gone from his usual animated self to staring vacantly out the passenger-side window. It had happened some years earlier, and it was the only mention Theo had ever made to Jack about his mother.

Theo had pointed out where she lay dead in the street.

"You okay, Cy?" asked Jack.

"Mm-hm," he said.

Soon, the ghetto's vapor lights and tall fences topped with spirals of razor wire gave way to gated streets and oak trees. They were approaching Theo's new neighborhood. Central Grove wasn't crime-free, but the sound of gunshots in this area could just as likely be a doctor shooting his wife's te

Jack parked in the visitor space outside Theo's town house. Cy thanked him for the lift and climbed out of the backseat. He appeared a little unsteady walking up the steps. Jack got out and helped him to the front door.

"Are you okay?" said Jack.

"It's this damn medicine I'm on," said Cy. "Makes me woozy when I stand up after sittin' for too long."

Uncle Cy had always seemed old to Jack, but he suddenly looked very old. "Let me help you up to your room."

Jack sensed that the old man was about to protest, but another one of those dizzy spells came upon him. "I'd appreciate that," Cy said.

At Jack's behest, Rene followed them upstairs to Cy's room. She switched on the lamp as Jack seated him on the edge of the bed. "Rene's a doctor," said Jack. "You want her to check you out?"

"I don't need no doctor. Doctors is what got me all screwed up. All these medicines they give me." The old man lay back against his pillow.

Rene said, "What kind of medication are you on?"

"I don't know. It's sittin' right there on the nightstand."

"He had a mild stroke last summer," said Jack.

Rene read the label. "This is to lower your blood pressure. Your doctor might have to adjust the dose or prescribe something else if you're getting light-headed." Rene took a minute to check his pulse. "Ticker seems fine."

"Of course it's fine. Everything's fine. Now get lost, you two. Go have fun."

The old man's eyes were already closed. Rene pulled off his shoes, and Jack switched off the lamp. Then they said good night and went downstairs. Jack suggested that they hang around for ten or fifteen minutes so that Rene could check on him again before they left.

They sat on the couch in front of the television. Rene snatched up the remote, and Jack was hard-pressed to deny such a pleasure to a woman who was headed back to the primitive corners of Africa's cocoa region in less than thirty-six hours. Jack watched in silence as she switched from Tom Hanks in Sleepless in Seattle to George Clooney in Sisters to an old episode of Thirty Something – again and again.

"You sure you can't stay past Monday?" said Jack.

The question brought her surfing to an end. Jack was apparently stuck with Sisters. Not a terrible choice – if you had no testicles.

"I really can't," she said.

"Why not?"

They were seated so close that she was leaning against him, and Jack had both arms wrapped around her. He could feel her body stiffen.

"I'm the clinic's only doctor."

"I understand that. But whenever you come to see me, you always leave sooner than pla

"Something always comes up."

"I -" Jack measured his words, but he decided that it needed to be said. "I honestly don't buy that, Rene."

His arms were still around her, but it was as if their blanket of comfort had been yanked away and thrown to the cold tile floor. They sat in silence, both staring at the television but neither one watching it. Jack wished they were sitting face-to-face so that he could read her expression.

"You're right," she said quietly.

"I am?"

"Yes. I don't really have to get back to the clinic on Monday I could stay a week. I could stay two weeks."

Jack's chest tightened. It sounded like he was about to get dumped, but he still had to ask: "So why are you leaving?"

Slowly she broke away from his embrace, sat up, and faced him. "Because if I stayed any longer, I'm afraid I might never go back."

She sounded sincere, and Jack wanted to believe her. But somehow he couldn't help wondering if she was speaking from the heart or saying what she thought he wanted to hear.