In the morning when I woke up, all the boxes were gone. I found Jana in the kitchen, working with some pancake mix I didn’t know I had.

“Good morning. I made breakfast.”

“Thanks. Sorry about last night. Got overloaded and emotionally vomited,” I mumbled.

“There’s no need to apologize. But, I do have to get back to school. Honey, I made an appointment for you to meet with that insurance company guy later this week. But I also want to give you some advice.”

“Ok, shoot,” I said slowly.

“Just try and get back to normal. Go to work, make some money. Spend time with that sweet man of yours. Don’t make any hasty decisions. Just let the feelings about your birth mother rise up and drift away. Then, later this week, go to that appointment, and find out what Jeffrie had planned for you.”

“Okay. That actually sounds pretty good. I think I can do that.” I even meant it.

“Good,” she said firmly.

“And the boxes?” I asked.

“I had Felix swear on pain of death he wouldn’t poke around, but he does have them. I think they would be painful for you to have here, and there’s no need to make a special trip home.”

I released a breath I didn’t know I was holding.

“Jana, thank you. Really. You thought of everything.”

“Oh, you would’ve thought of it eventually. But you have plenty going on.”

She gave me a long hug, grabbed her overnight bag, and headed out with a wave.

I forgot how wonderful it was having her around. I had to get used to sharing her with Alex.

As soon as she left, only emptiness remained. I decided to take her advice and throw myself back into work.

As I stepped into the office, Thom waved me over to the training room. I followed him wordlessly and was surprised when he shut the door firmly.

“Pale. Hey. I, uh, I have something for you. But you can’t tell anyone.”

Thom seemed both nervous and sad. I gave him a puzzled look, and his usual irritation came back for a moment.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that. I won’t keep you here long. I just…felt bad for you. About…your dad. I wanted to give you something to take your mind off things.”

He abruptly reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small box. I saw a white rectangle made of a thick cardboard. The top flaps were locked into each other, and as I tugged them open, a heavenly smell, so faint, drifted up from the tiny wax paper. I couldn’t believe Thom was finally sharing a baked treat with me, especially one that smelled as amazing as this. It was a Madeleine in a perfect golden color. It was a little bigger than the ones you buy in packages. I glanced up at Thom, and his face had that sad look again, but he nodded at me encouragingly.

“The ones I make are filled with a sweet date paste. There’s a secret ingredient, too. I hope you like it. It’s one of my signature pieces,” he said, shyly.

It smelled so good, at first I didn’t want to bite into it. And then, just as abruptly, I reached down and impulsively lifted it to my mouth, sinking into a bite. The complexity of flavor flooded me, and warmth spread through me like magic. I was transported straight out of my troubles, straight out of winter, and drifted along the simple cakey fluffiness, buoyed by sweet dates, and a sharp smoke of . . . what was it? Clove? Ginger? I had no idea. I didn’t remember eating the next two bites, because I was awash in the waves, a sense around the edge of memories, of childhood summer afternoons with imaginary friends, of being loved, and of a simplicity to the world.

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I opened my eyes and saw Thom looking anxiously at me. I threw my arms around him, surprising us both.

“Thom, that was so wonderful. Thank you so much,” I mumbled into his shoulder.

He pulled away after patting me awkwardly on the arm, and said, “Just don’t tell anyone.”

I grinned at him, and he went out the door. I sighed, and walked out behind him.

I saw Felix, and walked over to give his hand a quick squeeze. We weren’t working together that night, and I saw from the board I would be on a run with Lisbet.

A few of the girls were giving me looks about being in the back with Thom, AND coming out to hold hands with Felix, but I couldn’t have cared less about those things now.

Lisbet hadn’t said a word to me about my dad, but that was fine by me. First, I didn’t know if anyone had even told her. Second, I was tired of people working out their own issues about death through the critical one happening in my life. It was exhausting. I preferred to keep it to myself and work it out with the friends I knew I had. I had quite a bit to distract me as it was.

In no time at all, we’d gotten dressed and were fanning out to different parts of the city. Thom’s car had finally kicked the bucket about a week ago (seemed to me it was perfect timing for that thing to crawl away and die, right as he was about to go live abroad), and he was driving his Mom’s vintage 1966 Lincoln Continental convertible - an absolute joy to ride in.

Lisbet took the first run of North Beach, while I took Grant and Green Extended. I think I’d gotten this run out of pity, but I didn’t care. I decided to play the game of Faces, which was something Dad and I used to do together. It helped me to be around big crowds of people when I got anxious, and recently I’d been getting anxious a lot more often.

In the game of Faces, instead of getting caught up in what people are saying, you slide your focus to some part of their face, like their nose, or the chin, or their ears. Eyebrows work too, and foreheads.

You still respond in a vague way to conversation, but really, you are keeping track of who has the most interesting nose, or the smallest chin. Who has attached earlobes, wrinkly foreheads or dimples. It’s a great way to detach, to check out of being witty or particularly interesting.

I’d learned by now that the job didn’t always require the persona I’d built. There were plenty of places and people who didn’t need me to talk at all. I’d been doing this more and more at work, as my interest flagged.

I played the game of Faces for quite a while, until Lisbet and I switched, and I was on the North Beach run. The people were tiring, always looking, tugging, toying with me. I felt like a pinball pushed around, and what little energy I had began to dwindle quickly. The bouncers all helped keep me afloat, but they must have sensed some of the new chaos in my personal life, because while they still gave me a squeeze and a comforting arm to help me in and out, no one said anything.

I ended up at Crow Bar just before last call, feeling dazed, and at a table of belligerent older punk rockers. They were vicious in their teasing, but I was too far behind in sales tonight to not try to score a last $20. The bartender started screaming Last Call! and throwing bottles into the trash. Through the din of the bar’s loud music and shouting, strangely I heard the glass shatter into a thousand tiny pieces against the metal. I saw a flash of hot pink out of the corner of my eye, and I recognized Lisbet, without her tray. Shit. I must be late to meet Thom. I wiped some sweat from my head, and turned back to the table of Neanderthals. Lisbet crossed over to me quickly. Muttering, she said, “What’s going on? You ready?”

“I could use this last sale, but these guys are being hard on me. I’ll just try one last time.”

As I turned back to the table, the skinniest guy in the middle looked up under the harsh light hanging low over their drinks.

“Say, who’s your friend? We might be interested in two or three items, if ah, she’s included.” He chuckled meanly, and his friends joined in. I knew I should leave, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t seem to move my legs. I glanced over at Lisbet, whose eyes flashed anger, but she said nothing. “So, what’s your problem anyway, Creepy? Who let the air out of your balloons?” He laughed uproariously, slapping the table. I realized a little too late that he was talking to me.

There was a lull in the cacophony of the room. A cold anger rose up in me and without pausing, I leaned down, reached out and pinched his Adam’s apple with my free hand and said, “My fucking Dad just died. What’s your excuse, you sad little piece of shit?”

I had never spoken to any customer like that, but I was beyond exhausted and my feet were burning, I hated this place, and it was exactly the time of night to pick a fight.

He jumped to his feet and pushed toward me. Without changing position, Lisbet hauled back her right arm and popped him in the nose, right when he was getting out of the booth. He crumpled to the ground, and we heard a roar go up in the bar. The bartender and bouncer rushed over and shoved the rest of his friends outside. Lisbet and I stared at each other.

“Thom just told me in the car. I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to be alone in here. I could see on your face that you weren’t going to get that sale.”

She looked at me deadpan, and we both laughed loudly, then hysterically. I was laughing at the fury and chaos. I was laughing because it felt like I hadn’t done it in a long time, and here, in a dark punk rock bar where I used to be so scared, I had just insulted a customer, and was nearly clocked in the face.

I laughed because I was so over this whole experience. Lisbet threw her arm around my shoulder. We walked out together and climbed into Thom’s car, accompanied by the red and blue lights that always seemed to flash in North Beach.