“I have a job,” I replied, barely believing the words as they slipped from my lips. My ledger was paltry at best and becoming more anemic by the month.

“How long can you survive in Towertown?” Maks asked. His three pansy parlor accounts had dropped him as soon as prohibition ended. “Your guys aren’t going to keep a middle man indefinitely. Distribution is running smoothly now. You should talk to Vlad about getting involved in another racket. Prostitution, gambling … everything is slow, but at least we’re getting a few clams.”

Maks wasn’t wrong but I didn’t want to hear it. Handing over a wad of cash to Cal’s landlord assured I needed the five clubs I was still working with for at least another few months.

Sometimes I wished I had gone to college. With Igor preparing to graduate from the University of Chicago with a PhD in Economics, he was beginning as I was drawing to an end. Though I gave him guff about his focus on economics when the economy was disintegrating, he retorted that it was the best possible time for the study because they would look to experts to ensure a crash would never happen again. I hated that it made sense and despised even more that I had so readily gone for the easy money of the mob rather than positioning myself for a better future. Perhaps I had settled, never considering anything beyond the present, never foreseeing a moment past it until I had a reason to look forward. Moving through the motions of life had been all I had ever thought I would do, but Cal made me want more, if only because I coveted moments with him.

“We’ll see,” I replied vaguely, wanting to be finished with the conversation. I inhaled the rest of my cereal and placed my bowl in the sink. “Either way, I’m going to go now and do something other than sit around with you crumbs.”

“Soon you’ll need to refer to me as Dr. Crumb,” Igor reminded with a grin. “I think those two terms are uncomplimentary, don’t you?”

“When you perform brain surgery, I’ll call you doctor, until then I’ll call you dummy,” I decided, barely waving ‘goodbye’ as I left the room.

It was peculiar that though I’d made the trek to Towertown thousands of times before, it had never felt as alien as it did knowing Cal wouldn’t be there. I had spent years walking those blocks before I knew him, but now that I did, Cal had become every lamppost and building, a brilliant warmth casting a glow on the rain-slick streets. Without him, everything was duller than I remembered, as if my prior impressions had been burned full of holes by his brightness.