London Bridges (Alex Cross 10)

“I’m in here with Kayla,” Nana called as I opened the front door and Damon and Jannie slid by me on either side. “We’re just kicking back, Alex. No need for alarm. Take your time.”

“So who’s alarmed?” I asked as I slowed and walked into the living room, saw the two of them “kicking back” on the sofa.

“You were, Mr. Worrywart. You saw the Health truck outside, and what did you think? Sickness,” said Nana.

She and Kayla both laughed merrily, and I had to smile, too—at myself. I made a very weak protest. “Never happened.”

“Then why did you rush up the front steps like your trousers were on fire? Oh, forget it, Alex,” Nana said, and laughed some more.

Then she waved her hand as if to chase away any unwanted negativity in the room. “Come. Sit down with us for a minute or two. Can you spare it? Tell me everything. How was St. Michaels? Has it changed very much?”

“Oh, I suspect that St. Michaels is pretty much the same as it was a hundred years ago.”

“Which is a good thing,” Nana said. “Thank God for small favors.”

I went over and gave Kayla a kiss on the cheek. She had helped Nana when she was sick a while back, and now she stopped in regularly. Actually, I’d known Kayla since we were both growing up in the neighborhood. She was one of us who got out, received an education, and then came back, to give back. The Homecare Health Project brought doctors to the homes of the sick in Southeast. Kayla had started it, and she kept it going with incredibly hard work, including fund-raising, which she mostly did herself.

“You look good,” I told her. The words just came out.

“Yes, I lost some weight, Alex,” she said, and cocked an eyebrow at me. “It’s all this running around that I do. I try my best to keep the weight on, but it just comes off, damn it.”

I had noticed. Kayla is close to six feet, but I had never seen her looking so trim and fit, not even when she was a kid. She’s always had a sweet, pretty face and a disposition to match.

“It also sets a better example for folks,” she said. “Too many people in the neighborhood are overweight. Too many are obese, even a lot of the kids. They think it’s in their genes.”

Then Kayla laughed. “Plus, I must admit, it has helped my social life, my outlook on things, whatever. Whatever.”

“Well, you always look good to me,” I said, putting my foot in it again.

Kayla rolled her eyes at Nana. “He lies so easily. He’s really good at it.” They both laughed again.

“Anyway, thank you for the compliment, Alex,” said Kayla. “I’ll take it for what it’s worth. I don’t even consider it too condescending. Oh, you know what I mean.”

I decided I’d better change the topic. “So Nana is fine, and going to live to a hundred?”

“I would expect so,” Kayla said.

But Nana frowned. “Why do you want to get rid of me so soon?” she asked. “What did I do to deserve that?”

I laughed. “Maybe it’s because you’re a constant pain in my butt. You know that, don’t you?”

“Of course I know it,” Nana said. “That’s my job in life. My reason for being is to torment you. Don’t you know that yet?”

And as she said those words, I finally felt that I was home again, really home, back from the wars. I took Kayla and Nana out to the sunporch and played “An American in Paris” for them. That’s what I had been not too long ago, but no more.

About eleven, I walked Kayla outside to her Health van. We stopped and talked for a moment on the front porch.

“Thanks for coming by to see her,” I said.

“You don’t have to thank me,” Kayla said. “I do it because I want to. It

just so happens that I love your grandmother. I love her tremendously. She’s one of my guiding lights, my mentor. Has been for years.”

Then Kayla leaned in very quickly, and she kissed me. She held the kiss for a few seconds. When she pulled away she was laughing. “I’ve wanted to do that for the longest time.”

“And?” I asked, more than slightly surprised at what had just happened.

“Now I’ve done it, Alex. Interesting.”