Until by Timmothy B. Mccann

are you up to?”
    â€œSweet pea, how you doing!” Peggy asked. “Thanks for lunch. That was nice of you.”
    â€œIs Walt there?”
    â€œYes, sweetie my husband is here. You hying to flirt, Mr. Staaaley?” she asked with a laugh.
    â€œYou better let him know it wasn’t just me and you.”
    â€œAh, I don’t know if we can do that, Mr. Staley. I do happen to be married, you know.”
    â€œListen at you. Always instigating something.”
    â€œYou know me,” she said. “He knows I’m crazy about him. So are you feeling better about the deal?”
    Drew relaxed on his couch with his head on the armrest and toes buried between the thick cushions. “What do you mean?”
    â€œI know something went down in there today. I just haven’t figured out what happened. I mean that was the biggest sale you ever made. By far. And you would hardly talk to us during lunch.”
    Drew clicked off the TV and laid the remote on the oak table, never taking his eyes off a graduation portrait of Felicia on his mantel. Since he could not imagine another woman entering his home or his life at this juncture, it looked perfectly in place. Their love was tender and sweet. He would never forget the day or the time she first told himthat she loved him. Because after she uttered the words, she added softly, “Drew, I must admit that I am a little selfish. You see, I know in my heart that I would like to die before you. Because I could never imagine being in a world without you here.” After her death the irony of those words settled over his mind like a dark cloud that would not blow away and would always produce a tear.
    He and Peggy had known each other for more than ten years, and since she was a few years older than he, she was the big sister he’d never had.
    â€œHello? Drew, are you there?”
    As he cleared his throat Drew said, “I had to sell out to make the damn deal.”
    â€œWhat do you mean?”
    With a deep breath Drew replied, “Renfro is the most racist person I have ever met, and I wanted to set him straight a couple of times, but I didn’t. I should have . . . but I didn’t.”
    â€œWhat do you mean, racist? Did he call you a name or something?”
    â€œNo. Of course not. But the man has these rebel flags displayed all over his office and even has, get this, a letter framed on his wall from Jerry Falwell. I’m not kidding.”
    â€œWell, actually, Drew, a letter from Falwell does not exactly make one a racist.”
    â€œYeah, and neither does wearing a white sheet. What I mean is this. Things like that show no respect for black people. What if he was Jewish and walked into my office and I had German swastikas all over the place.”
    â€œTell me something, Drew. Did you get the check?”
    â€œYeah, I know where you’re going with—”
    â€œThen you did a good job. Sleep well tonight. It’s none of your business what he has in his office or his heart. There are people like him out there. They are nasty, crazy, stupid, dumb, whatever you wanna call them. But they are out there and we know it. Now that we know it, what do we do? Is it your job to educate him? Do we pitch our tents, give up, and not do business with them? Hell no! We deal with it. We get over it. We move on.”
    â€œI know, but I think I should have said something. Youdidn’t see his office. I should have shown a little backbone in there.”
    â€œYeah, losing the sale would have taught him a lot. Don’t get me wrong Andrew, I understand where you are coming from. But I—”
    â€œExactly! I mean, there are hardly any blacks employed in that place. I looked at the portraits of the partners and there’s not one black face. Outside of the sister I saw who is an attorney there and a couple of custodians, I bet there aren’t any blacks at all. I should have let him know he was talking to his