Chapter 9
Ana stepped out from her car. She followed Miles as he walked to one of the numbered doors of the building where, she assumed, Jack lived. Clutched against his chest, Miles was carrying wine in a paper bag. The door was at ground level – Ana remembered that Jack had problems with arthritis. Miles stepped up to the door and knocked loudly. Without waiting, he opened it and called inside.
"Jack, it's me. Are you decent?" Miles signaled to Ana to step inside the door. The inside was in striking contrast to the outside – the furniture was all modern, mostly black, the look reminded Ana of Miles' living space, and she remembered that Jack had originally lived there and that he had furnished the place. So, she thought, this sparse Scandinavian style is Jack's taste, not necessarily Miles.
"Miles? That you?" The voice came from down a hall off to the left. "Get me a cup of coffee, I'm dying in here!"
"Will do," said Miles. "Jack, I've got a lady friend with me."
"Just boil the water, and pour it through the filter. You know."
"Coffee coming right up," said Miles. He took Ana's hand and led her around the corner to a small kitchen. Miles sat the bag down. Just as Jack said, a small porcelain filter unit, complete with grounds, sat on top of a large cup. Miles picked up the kettle to see if it had water. Satisfied that it did, he turned the burner on. He started nosing around the kitchen. He opened the refrigerator and started inspecting things. Ana watched him curiously. Miles walked back to the bag and removed a bottle of white wine. He placed it in the refrigerator and continued his inspection.
"Todd and Brandon don't seem to do this," Miles told her. "Jack just doesn't bother. But, I can't stand finding old, moldy stuff in here. So, whenever I come, I check." Miles was making a stack on the counter. An old styro foam container, some sort of take away food Ana guessed, a partial package of cheese Ana could see blue green mold on, a small package of lunch meat with a bad smell, and a small carton of half and half that Miles opened, sniffed and frowned at. Miles looked under the counter, found a trash bag and loaded the things.
"I'm taking this out to the dumpster in the back. When the water boils, pour it through the filer until the cup fills. You have to pour it slowly, or it will overflow. I'll be right back."
Miles went out the door at the rear of the kitchen. Ana could see him going across a gravel lot to a row of brown dumpsters. Just then, the whistle on the kettle sounded. She turned off the burner.
"I need that coffee!" came the voice from down the hall. Ana was afraid to answer. She picked up the kettle and started to pour, slowly, watching the water go through the grounds. She had seen but had never used one of these manual filter devices. Thankfully, Miles came back into the room.
"Looks like you've got things under control," he said.
"I guess so."
"Go ahead, pour some more in. Then, we find another cup." Miles was looking and found another large cup. "And pour it back through a second time. Otherwise, it's too watery."
Ana nodded. She filled the first cup. Miles moved the other cup close, then quickly moved the filter holder from one to the other. He made a small mess, but wiped it with a sponge. He lifted cup number one and poured it back through the grounds. When the second cup was full, Miles put the filter holder in the sink.
"I'll clean up before we leave. Lets get this coffee in there while it's still hot!"
Miles went through an alternate doorway to the kitchen, which led directly into the hall. Ana saw a couple of doorways, one on each side. Miles walked down to the doorway on the left and went in.
"Its about time!" Ana heard the voice say.
"I'm glad you're decent. I have a friend here." Miles stepped back out of the room and looked toward Ana. She followed him.
Miles went back inside the room. Ana stepped inside and saw an old man, sitting up in bed, wearing flannel pajamas. The man had wisps of unruly gray hair on a balding head. Perched on his nose was a pair of wire frame glasses. A television hung in the upper corner of the room on a black metal stand. As they walked in, the man picked up a remote control and turned off the football game he was watching. His attention was focused on the cup of coffee.
"Jack, this is Ana," said Miles, putting his arm around her waist.
Jack didn't seem to notice her at all, Ana thought. He was sipping the coffee. After what seemed like too long, he spoke.
"About time you found a grown up female. Now, what are you going to do about that other problem?"
Miles laughed. "Jack, you challenge even me for being tactless. And, I've worked hard on my reputation."
Jack laughed at this. He finally looked at Ana, and she saw a curious, friendly face. Much more Brandon than Todd, she thought.
"Hello there, young lady. Allow me to apologize. I am somewhat under the weather." He offered his hand.
Ana stepped forward. She shook the hand. "Please to meet you. Ana Palmer."
"Oh, Chester Van Meter's friend. " Jack looked at Miles. His eyes widened as he remembered something else. "And the former Mrs. Greg Romano. Now, I never would have expected this!"
Miles didn't answer. Ana looked over at him and noticed that he looked embarrassed.
Jack went on. "Miles, after all of your talk. About what you would and wouldn't do…."
"Cut it out, Jack," said Miles. Ana could hear an edge in his voice.
Jack sat the coffee down. He was smiling. "Miles, I earned this. I can give you a hard time, if I like. How many times have I told you that what you need is a good woman? One good woman to make you forget all of the bad."
"You win, Jack. Of course, you were right."
"Damn straight. I've been right about all of it. " Jack picked up the coffee again and took a slurp. "This is good coffee, by the way."
"I ran it through two times."
