Sixteen

Archer storming away from her to retreat back into the apartment building sours Maddy's mood further, but she reminds herself of who instigated the argument and that she has more important things to worry about today. She has places to be and people to talk to, she can't let a silly fallout with Archer ruin her entire day. She takes in an even breath and continues down the sidewalk as if nothing happened and makes the most of her day out.

Before doing anything, she walks several blocks to drop her film rolls off at the developer's office. The familiar space makes her heart swell. She has trusted this studio with her photographs since she moved to her apartment almost fifteen years ago and she still feels the same happiness walking in now as she did when she first entered the place. They greet her by name and process her order without asking her the details — they know exactly how she prefers her photos to be developed and they go through the process impeccably. Maddy pays before she leaves, and from there, she walks another few blocks to Vital Affairs Magazine's head office.

Upon entering, her colleagues greet her with textbook niceties and express little interest in regards to the cut on her cheek. In their line of work, it's not uncommon for journalists and photographers to come back a little worse for wear, so it's become an unspoken rule of sorts to not point out injuries unless the injured points them out first. Maddy acts as though the gash on her cheek is nonexistent and everyone else follows suit. The group exchanges a few textbook niceties before Maddy enters the office of her editor, Richard.

They discuss her article on Sierra Leone. Maddy gives Richard the full breakdown of what happened and what she was going to write about. He's pleased to hear her enthusiasm and even more pleased when she tells him she will be able to produce the completed piece within the next few days.

"I thought you'd be down there for at least another couple weeks," Richard tells her as he twists a paperclip out of shape between his thick fingers.

"I had intended on that," she nods, touching her knee. She laughs dryly. "But I got shot… a small part in a series of very, very unfortunate events."

"You probably would have stayed if you had your way," he smirks and nods. Maddy has worked through worse, he knows. "There were reports of elevated violence where you were, you had the office worried for a little while."

"It'll take more than elevated violence to hold me back from getting my story, Richard."

"That's why you're the best writer VA has."

Maddy accepts the compliment with a modest nod. They discuss her article for almost an hour before she leaves the office. She's glad that she was able to speak to Richard, and for the first time since meeting Archer, she feels like she's spinning back on her own axle again.

She makes her way back across the city to her block and decided to pick up a few more articles of clothing for Archer and Solomon. A few shirts, jeans, socks, and more underwear. She pays with her credit card and then heads to the bistro to pick up three sandwiches for lunch. She's starving now and she's sure the boys are too.

She enters her apartment to the sound of the sombre narration of a wildlife documentary. Solomon's eyes were fixed on the television, but when he became aware of Maddy entering, he stood up and nodded to her.

"Enjoying the National Geographic channel, Solomon?" she smiles at him.

"Yes, Miss Bowen," he replies. "It is almost like I am there in the ocean with these creatures. I have never seen anything like it."

"The ocean is beautiful," she says as she walks into the kitchen. She puts the bag of food down on the counter before setting the clothes down on the table. "I brought lunch."

Solomon turns the television off approaches the counter to sit down on one of the stools.

"Roast beef sandwiches with fries," Maddy pulls the three take out containers from the bag. "They're delicious."

She slides Solomon's across the counter and he opens the styrofoam box almost cautiously. The aromatic cloud of roast beef steam that puffs into his face makes his mouth water. He has never smelled anything quite this delicious before. Maddy watches him eagerly as he takes his first bite.

"Good?"

"Yes, Miss Bowen," he nods after chewing and swallowing. "It is very good, thank you."

She grins, content over the fact that he likes the sandwich. "Where's Archer?"

Solomon motions towards the window by her reading nook. Archer is leaning against the window frame with every ounce of his attention focused on the happenings of the city down below. Maddy sucks her lips in and dips the tips of her fingers into the back pockets of her jeans. She strolls over to Archer, looking him up and down as she heads over. He doesn't do so much as breathe in her direction when she stands in front of him. He's too busy staring out the window and gnawing on his fingernails.

"I brought lunch back."

"Ja," he scoffs. "I saw."

"Are you going to come sit down and eat?"

"Don't you think I would have walked over there when you came marching in if I wanted to eat?"

He turns to look at her only for a moment and Maddy sees how dark his eyes are. Maddy frowns. She feels guilty knowing she's the reason for his sudden relapse into closing himself off, but she meant everything she said to him earlier and she refused to apologize. She rings her fingers and looks at him.

"Are you going to stand here all day?"

"What's the name of your contact?"

"My what?" She's thrown by the question.

"Your contact, huh," he repeats with annoyance. "For my stones."

"Oh, yes," she nods slowly. "His name is Anthony, I have his card in my diary."

"A'right," he juts his jaw out and raises his eyebrows. "I'm gonna need that card."

Maddy shakes her head.

"Maddy," Archer says threateningly. "I'm only here because you promised me a legal sale, don't fuck with me now."

She shakes her head again. "I'm not going to give you his card just because you're intimidating me, Archer, I won't be bullied into anything in my own home."

"Huh," he scoffs.

His hand shoots up near the side of his face in a dismissive wave as he walks past Maddy.

"Where are you going?"

"Out."

"Out where?"

"Out, huh," he growls. He sticks his feet into his boots and presses the button for the elevator.

"You know your way around the city?"

"I survived in Africa," he spits. "I think I can manage in New York City."