It was then, I caught movement across the way, at theentrance to the shelves.
Duke.
My heart warmed, my lips formed the words, “Excuse me,” andI put down my coffee mug and got up.
He turned around and disappeared into the shadows of thestacks.
I followed him in.
But he’d vanished.
Except, he hadn’t.
The books were in three sections, the middle one containingtables with milk cartons on top, filled with vinyl.
On the edge of the one closest to the aisle was aplastic-covered album.
Bridge over Troubled Waters.
On it was taped a note.
I picked up the album and read the note.
My Boxer,
I know Darius has a turntable.
You did good.
Proud of you.
Duke
I closed my eyes to fight the sting in them and hugged thatalbum to my chest.
Once I got myself together, still hugging the album, Iwalked back to my coffee.
And my friends.
The old.
And the new.
It was a couple of hours, and a couple of coffees,later, when I was hoping we’d have enough time to get hangers and a new outfitfor Darius before we had to head home and get ready for the party, when Toniand I were walking to my car.
Before I opened my door, though, she was suddenly in myspace.
Surprised, I turned to her.
Her arms closed around me.
Shirleen’s hugs were the best, truly.
But Toni’s gave them competition, partly because she put herall into them, mostly because she was choosy about doling them out, and theydidn’t come often.
“Happy for you,” she whispered in my ear, and as fast as thehug started, it ended, and she headed to the passenger side.
I had to fight the sting of tears again, but I was gettinggood at it.
