Someone was knocking on the door. “What time is it?” asked Ace.
“Nine in the morning,” said Tim, pulling the blanket up higher.
Ace went to the door, her gun in her hands. “What do you want?”
“Clean Up Crew,” said the deep voice. “Ace, it’s me. I have the jacket.”
Ace threw open the door, grabbed Chuck by the shirt and dragged him inside. She took the box out of his hands and sat on the floor. “Help yourself to juice and stale donuts.’
“Thanks,” said Chuck, going to the refrigerator.
Ace sat on the floor with the box on her lap and did nothing.
“It’s not perfect,” said Chuck, eating his third donut, “but it’s the best we could do.”
Slowly, she removed the cover and laid it aside. There was white tissue paper that needed to be parted next.
“You need help?” asked Chuck, making himself a sandwich out of a bagels and what looked like old cheese.
“I’m good, but thanks,” she said, pushing the tissue aside. And there it was. The short, pink, fluffy, jacket that had always been hers and Four’s. She picked it out of the box and buried her face in it. It smelled like cleaning products. All traces of Four were gone. She expected that but she still felt disappointed. She stood up and slipped her arms into the sleeves.
“It looks really good on you, Ace.”
Ace knew she looked ridiculous but she walked over to Chuck and put her arms around his ample waist, her head on his chest. Chuck wrapped his huge arms around her and laid his head on top of hers. “I miss her too,” he said, his voice filled with emotion. “Wherever she is, you know she’s laughing her ass off seeing you in that coat.”
With that Ace started laughing. Chuck was right. It was the most ridiculous looking jacket she had ever seen and now, her most prized possession.