The bartender carried the shot over to Jeff and gently set it down in front of him so as not to spill any. Words were spoken. The bartender turned and pointed at me. Jeff glanced around him and our eyes met for the first time since December, when he had looked down at me with a blood-covered face from his apartment window. He took me in. His features immediately hardened, his eyes narrowing into tight little slits. I lifted my empty bottle to offer cheers, but Jeff made no reciprocation, nor did he make any move toward the shot. He finally looked away and spoke to the bartender, who promptly nodded, hefting his shoulders up and dropping them heavily in disappointment. The Irishman lifted the shot glass and turned. He seemed very uncomfortable as he crossed the bar and set it down in front of me.

“I’m sorry, sir,” he said with genuine sadness. “But your friend has declined the drink in no uncertain terms. He’s far from what we’d consider a gentleman in Ireland.”

I shrugged. “It was worth a shot. And you never know unless you try, right?”

I’m not sure the bartender followed, but his affable nature insisted that he aimed to please, even if that meant agreeing to things he didn’t fully understand.

I picked up the Blue and threw it back, sending forty dollars down the hatch. It tasted no different to me than a shot of five-dollar whiskey.

“Thank you,” I said to the bartender, and then I stood and made for the door.

I took my time strolling along the city streets in no great hurry to return to my empty apartment. It was four o’clock, and the day had grown dark with the promise of rain.

I had a single letter waiting in the mailbox. It was from my father, addressed to Carolyn; it was the first to arrive since she had left. I placed it on the kitchen counter and went upstairs to Gene’s, but it was Linda who answered the door, wearing nothing beneath a gray tee that fell to her knees while her face was puffy with sleep.

“Linda!” I said with great surprise.

“Hey you,” she replied.

I reached in and hugged her tightly.

“Damn, it’s great to see you!”

“Good to see you, too.”

“So things are better?”

She nodded. “Things are good.”

“Man, I’m happier than hell to hear it.”

“Thank you. But how are you?”

“I’m doing alright, hanging in there. Just came up to say hello to Gene.”

“Well, he’s here, but he’s sleeping. Want me to wake him up?”

“Nah, don’t worry about it. It’s nothing important.”