There was a knock on the door that I hadn't been expecting.
The milkman and paper boy had been by to collect, and it wasn't the third Saturday of the month, so that meant it wasn't the gardener. I put the cereal bowl and empty milk jug into the sink and crossed over to the door.
"Good Morning, P," a bright face greeted me, leaning against the door jamb.
"Aaron," I said, holding the door open. "Morning, morning, come in."
"Sorry to drop in so early, but I just had a call from the office. They need me over in Jersey to cover some charity event. Cavalli toters having an auction night for Syria or something, Hannigan called me like two hours ago and out me on the job."
Aaron cast a glance around the apartment and then turned to me, "I have to be at the train station at one so I was wondering if you wanted to catch brunch with me."
"Oh," I tied up my dressing robe and went over to clear the table, "I had breakfast only a little while ago."
"Oh," Aaron sounded a little disappointed.
I put the lucky charms away and turned to him with a smile, "But I'm still feeling peckish. You could take me to that shawarma place in town."
He brightened up considerably and dropped his bag down on the sofa, "Great, babe."
Aaron leaned in to me and I pushed a finger against his mouth, "I'm going to go brush."
"You eat breakfast without brushing?"
"Uh yeah, what's the point of brushing if you're just going to get cereal stuck in your teeth afterwards?"
"Gross, P!" He laughed.
"Oh right, I'm not the one who pulls my retainer out at the table in a five star restaurant."
"That was months ago."
"I'm losing my appetite just thinking about it," I laughed as he drew his arms around me and planted a quick kiss on my cheek.
"I'll catch up on the news, don't be too long," Aaron said.
"Never am," I disappeared into the bathroom.
Twenty minutes later we were pulling up to a small joint tucked in along a ton of other shops.
"You know," I said, unbuckling my seatbelt, "we had a lot of places like this in South Dutton. I don't get why you New Yorkers make such a huge fuss."
"No place like NY diners, I guarantee you," Aaron laughed and we went to find a table. The counter tops were plastic and so were the food trays and spoons. I hadn't been at a place like this in nearly a year. It was all ceramics and folded napkins and flutes of Chardonnay.
I hated it.
As Aaron scooched in next to me I let my fingers curl around his wrist and said, "Thanks."
"What for?" He was dressed in his usual work clothes - a white shirt, blue trousers and a blue jacket, complete with pocket pen holder and a blue-tooth device around his ear. I had retired my trainer's uniform for a crisp shirt and slacks.
I shrugged pleasantly and hooked my arm with his while he ordered for me.
"So when are you going to be back," I asked as we were biting into our shawarmas.
Aaron reached over to wipe a bit of curry from the corner of my mouth before answering, "Probably late."
"You can crash at mine, if you like," I offered.
"For real? You're a life saver. I can't bear to drive all the way back to Brooklyn. I've got the keys right here," he patted his bag, "so you don't need to wait up."
We finished up in under half an hour and he checked his watch, "Better push off now. Come on I'll drop you."
He left me at the gateway of my apartment building and drove off in the direction of New Jersey. I headed into the lobby, the guard tipped his hat at me, and I got into the lift.
As soon as the doors shut, I sank back against the cold steel walls, exhausted. My body ached in places I didn't even know I had. They had been working me for over a month now like a robot, and I was going to relish my first day off in a long time. Dragging myself back to the apartment, I wondered whose bright idea it had been to list my cover as a tennis instructor. It took me an hour's jog to make it look convincing and if Aaron hadn't been taken with me, he would have begun to question 1) why there was no sports equipment casually lying around the house and 2) how I was paying for the apartment on a coach's salary.
As I fell back into bed, I inhaled the lavender scent of the sheets and wondered how I'd gotten it so good. Oh, right. I worked my ass off for it. Training for just under a year until the boss had decided to move me up from recruit status. I caught sight of myself in the wall-mirror and sighed. How things had changed. The woman looking back at me was leaner, with harder eyes and short cropped hair. I turned my face away and rolled onto my back. I could easily sleep for another twenty hours. And I could've managed it until a shrill ring from the hallway woke me up.
I tripped my way out of the bedroom glancing up at the clock - I had been asleep for about two hours but it had felt like only a few seconds. Still, I sighed, I suppose it was more than I could have hoped for.
Picking the phone off the hook, I drawled a disinterested hello into the mouthpiece.
"Good evening Miss McAllister, the cable man is here."
The cable man? I hadn't asked for any cable man, "What house did you say he wanted?"
"Yours, Miss. Number four ninety seven."
"There must be some sort of mistake."
"The cable man is here," the voice said with finality and the line went dead. I pursed my lips and went over to the front door to push the buzzer.
I hung up the phone and went back to the bedroom. On the underside of a lamp base, I found a pistol and cartridge and loaded up before going to wait by the door.
I do not own a TV.