Then she was quiet for a second.
“But it hasn’t happened yet,” she said. “Maybe I should wait until it has.”
“It’ll happen,” he said.
“It’s only an agenda. Maybe they’ll all vote no.”
“They won’t,” he said.
“There’ll be a party,” she said. “Will you come?”
“If you want me to. If I won’t ruin your image.”
“You could buy a suit. Wear your medals. You’d blow them away.”
He was quiet for a spell, thinking about buying a suit. If he did, it would be the first suit he’d ever worn.
“Have you got what you want?” she asked.
He wrapped his arms around her. “Right now?”
“Overall?”
“I want to sell the house,” he said.
She lay still for a moment.
“OK,” she said. “Not that you need my permission.”
“It burdens me down,” he said. “I can’t handle it.”
“You don’t need to explain to me.”
“I could live the rest of my life on the money I get for it.”
“You’d have to pay taxes.”
He nodded. “Whatever. What’s left would buy me plenty of motel rooms.”
“You should think carefully. It’s the only asset you’ve got.”
“Not to me. Money for motels is an asset. The house is a burden.”
She was silent.
“I’m goiug to sell my car, too,” he said.
“I thought you liked it,” she said.
He nodded. “It’s OK. For a car. I just don’t like owning things.”
“Owning a car isn’t exactly the end of the world.”
“It is to me. Too much hassle. It needs insurance, all that kind of stuff.”
^U/T/U/W <^4/tY 245 "You don't have insurance?" "I thought about it," he said. "They need all kinds of paperwork first." She paused. "How will you get around?" "Same as I always did, hitch rides, take the bus." She paused again. "OK, sell the car if you want to," she said. "But maybe keep the house. It's useful." He shook his head, next to hers. "It drives me crazy." He felt her smile. "You're the only person I know who wants to be homeless," she said. "Most people try real hard to avoid it." "There's nothing I want more," he said. "Like you want to make partner, I want to be free." "Free of me too?" she asked, quietly. "Free of the house," he said. "It's a burden. Like an anchor. You're not." She unwrapped her arms from his neck and propped herself on an elbow. "I don't believe you," she said. "The house anchors you and you don't like it, but I anchor you too, don't I?" "The house makes me feel bad," he said. "You make me feel good. I only know how I feel." "So you'd sell the house but you'd stick around New York?" He was quiet for a beat. "I'd maybe move around a little," he said. "You travel. You're busy a lot of the time. We could make it work." "We'd drift apart." "I don't think so." "You'd stay away longer and longer." He shook his head. "It'll be the same as it's been all year. Except I won't have the house to worry about." "You've made up your mind, right?" He nodded. "It's driving me crazy. I don't even know the zip code. Presumably because I don't want to know, deep down." "You don't need my permission," she said again. Then she was silent. "You upset?" he asked, uselessly. 246 lufrM "Worried," she said. "It won't change anything," he said. "So why do it?" "Because I have to." She didn't reply. s/ I^Sty fell asleep like that, in each other's arms, with a strand of melancholy lacea through the afterglow. Morning came and there was no time for more talk. Jodie showered and left with no breakfast and without asking him what he was doing or when he'd be back. He showered and dressed and locked up the apartment and rode down to the street and found Lisa Harper waiting for him. She was dressed in her third suit and she was leaning on the fender of the Bureau car. The day was bright with cold sun and the light was on her hair. The car was stopped at the curb with angry traffic swarming around it. The Bureau driver was motionless behind the wheel, staring straight ahead. The air was full of noise.