“I don’t think so,” I said. “How’re yours?”

He caught my gaze and held it, his chronic smile widening slightly.

“Hard to say,” he replied. “We’re kind of out of touch.”

I smiled, too.

“I know the feeling.”

We finished our food, had a final coffee…

“So you won’t be talking to Miller?” he asked.

“No.”

He shrugged again. The check came by and he picked it up:

“This one’s on me,” he said. “After all, I’m working.”

“Thanks. Maybe I can get back at you for dinner. Where’re you staying?”

“Wait.” He reached into his shirt pocket, took out a matchbook, tossed it to me. “There. New Line Motel,” he said.

“Say I come by about six?”

“Okay.”

He settled up and we parted on the street.

“See you,” he said.

“Yeah.” Bye-bye, Luke Raynard. Strange man. We’d known each other for almost eight years. Had some good times. Competed in a number of sports. Used to jog together almost every day. We’d both been on the track team. Dated the same girls sometimes. I wondered about him again — strong, smart, and as private a person as myself. There was a bond between us, one that I didn’t fully understand.

I walked back to my apartment’s parking lot and checked under my car’s hood and frame before I tossed my pack inside and started the engine. I drove slowly, looking at things that had been fresh and new eight years before, saying good-bye to them now. During the past week I had said it to all of the people who had mattered to me. Except for Julia.

It was one of those things I felt like putting off, but there was no time. It was either now or not at all, and my curiosity had been piqued. I pulled into a shopping mall’s lot and located a pay phone, but there was no answer when I rang her number. I supposed she could be working full-time on a dayshift again, but she could also be taking a shower or be out shopping. I decided to drive on over to her place and see. It wasn’t that far. And whatever it was that she had for me, picking it up would be a good excuse for seeing her this one last time.