Ten minutes later, Jack strolled into the kitchen. He rolled up his shirtsleeves and tucked his white V-neck T-shirt into the front of his black jeans. He ran fingers through his damp hair before taking a seat at the end of the table and feasting his eyes on the mouthwatering spread. There was enough to feed five. Dalton tossed a dish towel over his left shoulder and stirred freshly brewed coffee. The teaspoon clattered as he dropped it into the sink.
“Where’s Karen?” Jack asked.
“Oh. Called in early for her shift. Yeah, she didn’t want to wake you to say goodbye but she told me to tell you not to leave it so long next time.” He smiled as he ambled over holding a steaming hot French press. “Coffee?”
Jack gave a nod and Dalton filled his cup. “Thanks.”
After Dalton joined him, taking a seat off to his left, he glanced at Jack. “So.” He took a sip of his drink. “You didn’t sleep well last night?” Dalton dabbed a knob of butter on his toast and shot him a sideways glance.
“Ah man, I’m sorry. Did I wake the little one?”
Dalton shook his head. “No. She sleeps like a log. I heard you cry out.”
Jack inhaled deeply and filled his plate of eggs with fresh fruit, strips of sizzling bacon and a generous scoop of black beans.
“Anything weighing on you?” Dalton asked.
There was always something weighing on his mind but he’d got into the habit of not telling anyone. It was easier to hold it in than to burden others. Besides, his transgressions couldn’t be compared to others. Who else had spent the better part of their young life killing for the mob? His memories weren’t of graduation, college, the ideal career, getting married, having kids and a settled life; his was full of bloodshed, and the faces of victims. But that was all before prison, before Dana, before Eddie Carmine and several years on the road trying to right his wrongs.
“If you’d asked me that question fourteen months ago, I would have had a different answer but strangely enough, things are good. Really good.”
“Yeah? So how’s Dana settling into the nomad lifestyle?”
“I haven’t been on the road.”
“Get out of here. You’ve stopped taking jobs?”
Jack took a bite of his toast. “The last job paid more than enough.”
Dalton chuckled and studied him. “So you’re telling me after all this time you were doing it just for the money?” He paused with his fork hovering near his mouth. “I don’t buy that.”
Jack shrugged. “No, it wasn’t all for the money but you’ve got to put food on the table, right?”
Dalton raised his eyebrows as he shoveled away a forkful of egg. “So Dana didn’t play a role in you calling it a day?”
“I…”
“What about righting wrongs? Not settling down? Huh? What happened to all of that?”
Jack sighed. “Comes a time when everyone has to call it a day.”
“Did Eddie?”
Jack looked at him but didn’t answer. He’d given a lot of thought to Eddie Carmine over the years. The secrets he’d kept, the double life he’d led, the wisdom he’d imparted, and the letter he’d left behind before his untimely death. He still carried those slips of paper. Though they were worn and wrinkled by time, the letter was still folded up inside his wallet, a reminder of who he was or could be.
Dalton returned to poking at his food. The fork grazed the plate sounding like nails on a chalkboard. Jack gritted his teeth.
“So that’s it. You’ve finally made the choice to leave it all behind.”
“Yep,” Jack said without hesitation.
Dalton bit down on the corner of his cheek. “For good?”
Jack put his knife and fork down and sat back with his coffee, staring out the window. Blue skies stretched out over a bustling region. He knew Dalton doubted him. He had this knack of seeing through walls people erected. Perhaps that’s why he was so good at reaching people, helping them and turning lives around.
“I don’t know,” Jack replied.
“You know, Jack, Karen often asks me when I’m going to give up working for the mission. She thinks I’ve done enough and that maybe it’s time to pass on the reins to someone else.” He took a sip of his coffee as Jack listened intently. He respected Dalton because in many ways they were like each other. “And maybe there will come a day… but not yet.”
“Why not?”
Dalton wagged his fork in front of him. “There’s too much to be done. Too many people to be helped, and to be honest, too few out there willing to do what it takes to help another,” Dalton said looking him in the eye. “And Lord knows that people need help. Folks who are willing to sacrifice. Set examples for us all. Sure, I don’t deny there wouldn’t be meaningful folk lining up to take my spot but few would do it once they saw what I really had to deal with daily, and even less when they saw the paycheck at the end of the month.” He breathed in deeply then lifted a cup to his lips and sipped. “Let’s face it, Jack, if I was in this for the money I would have given it up years ago. No. You’ve got to be driven by something deeper to do this kind of work.” He jabbed his knife at Jack. “You’ve got it. I see it in you.”
“Yeah, what do you see?”
“I might call it God’s purpose, but you, you might call it righting wrongs. At the end of the day, it’s the same, Jack. We overturn injustice.”
Jack smiled and shook his head. It had been the first time since he’d known Dalton that he’d compared his work to Jack’s.
