We each had a little coffee. We examined some of the secretaries on coffee break. There was one with sort of auburn hair whose dress was some kind of spring knit and fit her very well. We examined her with special care.
“You talked with Jackie?” I said.
“Un huh.”
“How was that?”
“Jackie don’t like shooting,” Hawk said.
“Nothing wrong with that,” I said.
“Except that I’m a shooter,” Hawk said.
The woman with the auburn hair and the knit dress got up and walked out of the dining area. We watched her go.
“She said she couldn’t love no shooter,” Hawk said.
I nodded.
“I said did she want me to get a paper route?”
“Nice compromise,” I said.
Hawk grinned.
“Jackie said that maybe there was a third alternative. She talks like that, third alternative. I said I was a little long in the tooth for third alternatives.”
“Never too late,” I said.
Hawk was silent for a moment. His face showed nothing, but his gaze was very heavy on me.
“Yeah, it is,” Hawk said. “Too late for me to be something else a long time ago. Anything but what I am is a step down.”
“Yes,” I said.
“You’re smart,” Hawk said. “You could do other things.”
I shrugged.
“How come you do this?” Hawk said.
“It’s what I know how to do,” I said. “I’m good at it.”
Hawk grinned.
“You want to be good at selling vinyl siding?”
“Rather die,” I said.
“Jackie don’t quite get that,” Hawk said.
A new coffee break shift appeared. Hawk and I were alert to it, but no one compared to the one with the auburn hair.
“Tony’s late,” Hawk said.
“Surprising,” I said, “seeing there’s some kind of sweet glop to be eaten.”
A blonde woman in pale gray slacks went up and got a cappuccino and a whole-wheat roll and came back past us. She was wearing a nice perfume.
“So Jackie’s gone?” I said.
“Un huh.”
“Too bad,” I said.
Hawk shrugged.
“You care?” I said.
“Don’t plan to,” Hawk said.
“She was a nice woman,” I said.
“Un huh.”
“You love her?” I said.
“You really bored?” Hawk said, “or what.”
“No, I just figured Susan would ask me, and if I said I hadn’t asked she would have shaken her head without saying anything. Now, if she does it, she’ll be implying something about you, not me.”
Hawk grinned again.
“You believe in love,” he said.
“I have reason to.”
“Yeah, maybe,” Hawk said. “But you have reason to because you believe in it, not the other way around.”
“How’d we end up,” I said, “talking about me?”
