Frank Mariano stepped into my office and burst out laughing. “This place looks like the secret room they always find in a serial killer’s attic on TV. What are you doing in here, Lara?”
I turned from where I stood on top of my filing cabinets and tried to see the room from his perspective. It did look odd. My office walls were a storyboard of my upcoming presentation to the steering committee. Possible presentation slides flowed across the walls and leaked behind the door. Each section was plastered with charts and graphs and sticky notes.
“My notes for Friday’s meeting.”
“Do you need some help getting down from there?”
“No, I’m fine,” I said as I jumped down from the filing cabinet. I slipped my spectator pumps back on and tugged the edge of my blue and white striped sweater over the hips of my navy linen trousers. “Can I do something for you?”
Frank inspected one of my charts on the wall. “These look good. You won’t need this level of detail though. We don’t have that much time.” He turned to leave.
I stepped toward the door. “Is there anything I should know before the meeting?”
“Basically, you’ll have thirty minutes to talk. Use them wisely. Oh yeah, you should coordinate your slides with Letitia’s.”
“Excuse me?”
“Well yeah, I only get an hour on the agenda so you and Letitia have to both fit in that hour.”
I clamped my fingers around the edge of my desktop and arranged my face into a smile. “I understand. No problem.”
Frank stepped into the hallway. “Well, I’m off to see the IT guys. My laptop is acting up again.”
I waited until Frank was talking to the people in IT before quietly closing my office door. “Shit!” I grabbed a stack of sticky notes and lined them up end-to-end along the front edge of my desk, then stacked them back together in a flower pattern. Coordinating my presentation with Letitia’s sounded awful. Letitia and I hadn’t talked since I changed positions. Vanessa suggested I keep my distance for a while, especially while my interns were using the empty desks on the eighth floor. Letitia and I had exchanged a few terse emails over the last few months but we had both avoided meeting face to face. At one point, I was about to get on the elevator in the lobby and Letitia pushed the button to close the doors before I got there.
I climbed back up on top of the file cabinets and worked to hone my section of our presentation. I pared down my discussion of copper trends to the nub, until Vanessa knocked on my door two hours later. “What you doing up there?” She dropped a Chipotle bag on my desk. “Are you tripping? Come on, share.”
“Sorry. No drugs.” I jumped down and closed the door behind her. “And please don’t give me any crap today. Frank came by earlier and dropped a bombshell. I have to coordinate my slides for Friday’s meeting with Letitia. I’m totally freaking out about my presentation now.”
“You’ll do great,” Vanessa said. She pulled a series of smaller bags from the larger bag. “I got you soft tacos instead of hard ones. I hope that’s okay.”
“You get extra guacamole?”
“Yes, money bags,” she sighed. “I got your extra guacamole. You owe me twelve dollars. So why are you freaking out?”
I laid a napkin down for her to use as a placemat. “I have to go talk to Letitia about her presentation. What the hell am I going to say to her?”
“As little as possible,” Vanessa replied. “You show her your slides. She shows you hers. You talk about any conflicts. Then you walk away.” She continued with half a taco in her mouth. “The less you two talk, the better. Remember, you let her think you had a drug problem, so if she asks you anything, say you are in ongoing treatment and leave it at that.”
“So I should just keep my mouth shut about the bonuses?”
“Believe me, she has heard quite enough about the whole bonus thing.” Over the last few months, Vanessa had implied that Letitia was being punished for passing off my work as her own but couldn’t tell me any details. Vanessa finished her taco and took a sip of her sweet tea with a smug smile on her face. “Actually, I bet she is none too happy to be presenting with you, either. Rick in Accounting told me that her department has been in free fall this quarter. I don’t think Frank fully understood how much you were carrying Letitia for the last few years. You play your cards right, you may be sitting in her office next year.”
“I don’t want her job. I’d be happy with one or two permanent people to help me out. I don’t want a whole department.” I nibbled on a tortilla chip and thought about the possibility of working closely with people. “How do you get people like the guy in Accounting to tell you things like that? No one ever tells me anything.”
“Years and years of practice, honey,” Vanessa giggled. “No really, I studied organizational psychology in school. I have a degree in messing with people’s heads on a large scale.”
“Are there any books on how to supervise people?”
“Thousands of mediocre books and a few really good ones. Management books are a growth industry. You should track them as a commodity.”
After Vanessa left, I looked up books on the mechanics of interpersonal relationships. If I could research how to do it, maybe I could supervise people after all.
***
At 5:20, my phone buzzed on my desk. It buzzed all day but it was unusual to receive an email after five; Bettel Occidental Brokerage was a strictly nine to five kind of place. I stretched my shoulders and climbed down from my desk chair to see who was emailing me. It was time to stop anyway, numbers and statistics had become jumbled in my brain. And I was famished.
The phone rang in my hand before I could access my messages. It was Jane. “Lara dear, how are you?” Jane’s breathing was labored.
“Busy, but good.” I gathered up my laptop and pocketbook. “How are you?”
“Would you like to come here for dinner tonight? I’d really like to see you. It’s only pot roast but Tom does a pretty good job.” I could tell that Tom was standing right there and that Jane was teasing him with her words.
“I was planning to take Barkis for a run—”
“I understand if you don’t want to come.” Jane sounded like a petulant teenager.
“I don’t know, Jane. You sound tired.”
“No, I’m not. Come and eat. You’ve got to eat. The two of them can’t eat a whole pot roast.” I heard Tom scold “Mom!” in the background.
The two of them? I locked my office door and started toward the elevator. “Does the nurse stay for dinner?”
“We’re having a guest. Candace is coming.”
I snickered to myself as I stepped into the elevator. I understood why Jane was calling now; she wanted me to run interference between her and the hated Candace.
Jane briefly coughed. “I’d really like to see you.”
“Okay,” I replied. “I’ll be there in an hour or so.” I zipped home, took Barkis for a quick walk, and called the Lee’s to tell them not to expect me that evening.
The wind made pale petals rain from the ornamental cherry trees lining the wide winding avenues of Jane’s neighborhood. I wished I lived in such a place. The gridded streets in my apartment complex that I once found comfortably predictable now felt sterile. I rang the gingko leaf doorbell and immediately heard heavy footfalls approach. Tom swung the massive door open with a smile. “Lara! Come in, come in. Mom’s really excited to see you.”
“Am I late?”
“Not at all. Candace and I just got home a few minutes ago.”
Candace and I got home? This is going to be interesting. He took my coat and stopped me from going into the bright kitchen. “Look, you’ve got to help me out here,” Tom whispered. “I had no idea that she was having a tough day when I invited Candace over for dinner. The nurse told me that they saw her doctor this morning and her white blood count is way too low. She’s feeling really down so I hope you can cheer her up.” He stepped into the kitchen and left me overlooking the modern sunken living room. The few times I had been there before, the wall of sleek linen drapes had been closed. This evening, they were open. My eyes were drawn out the back wall of windows down a gently sloping lawn to a pond. A lone goose floated in the cold water. “Wow!” I exclaimed.
“It’s quite a view, isn’t it?” Jane was propped up on a soft grey pillow on the low sofa. The intricately woven shawl draped over her legs made her blend into the furniture. Across from her was a plump red head with a toothy grin plastered on her face. Her eyes pleaded with me to say something nice.
I thrust my hand out to her. “You must be Candace from Babcock Construction.” She took it gratefully.
“Yeah,” Jane croaked. “This is Tom’s accomplice in sinking my father’s company.”
“Oh come on, Jane,” I replied. “I’m sure Tom’s doing a great job.” I looked over my shoulder and caught Tom smiling at me. You better appreciate this, buddy.
Jane sat up and tucked her feet under her. “Come, sit over here next to me, Lara dear. You look thin and lovely today.” I did a tiny spin and pulled up my pant leg so Jane could see my spectator pumps. “You should wear hose with those shoes.”
“No one wears hose anymore, Ms. Babcock-Roberts,” Candace chuckled. Oh my God, Candace. Shut up! Tom loudly cleared his throat, signaling Candace to come help him in the kitchen.
“The yard looks beautiful.”
“The view is gorgeous in the spring. Tom and I planted the red tulips and white narcissus all around the pond about ten years ago. They’ve spread more than we could have dreamed. It really is a sight, isn’t it?” Jane’s fingers quivered over her lips as she stared out the window for a moment. I wondered how many more times she would see the flowers bloom.
Jane inhaled through her fingers as if pulling on a cigarette. “Tell me, what is going on in the big world. My oncologist has put me under house arrest. He says my blood counts are too low and I can’t risk getting exposed to any germs.”
I squirmed away from her on the soft couch and wondered if I had carried any germs into this house. “How are you feeling?”
“Crappy. I could barely lift my head from the pillow this morning and my throat feels like it’s lined with sandpaper.”
“The fatigue should slowly start going away. It takes a long time.”
“My brother was supposed to come visit later this week, but if my counts don’t go back up I may have to ask them to cancel. I just hate the idea of my family being considered infectious agents.” Jane wiped some perspiration from her forehead. “And on top of that, Sanjay gave me this nasty shot that’s making me feel achy all over. As if I didn’t feel lousy enough.”
“Maybe Candace and I should go and let you rest.”
“No! Stay. Talk to me. I’m just feeling sorry for myself. So, now that the race is over, will you still see Lara’s Ladies?”
“Probably not too much. We’re all going to get together in a few weeks for dinner.”
“Have you been seeing more of that young man?”
“Yes,” I replied, ignoring the smirk on Jane’s face. Sebastian and I had grown close in the weeks after the triathlon, yet I needed our relationship to move slowly. I liked Sebastian. I didn’t want to sabotage any relationship I might have with him by acting like a scared squirrel. “We might get together this weekend for a run.”
“Good. I don’t like the idea of you being alone.” Jane took a slow breath before talking again. “How’s work?”
“I’ve got a big presentation Friday. Unfortunately, I have to coordinate it with my old boss.”
“That’s going to be awkward. What’s your game plan?”
I leaned back and stared out the window. “Vanessa says I should play it cool and not say anything about anything.”
“I agree. Keep the upper hand. Take the high road.” Jane pulled the throw tighter around her. “What are you going to wear when you meet?”
“I don’t know yet. Maybe the robin’s egg blue blazer?”
“I’ve got—” Jane’s face froze as she started to cough. Tom came running from the kitchen with a rag. He held it to her mouth and thumped her back until the spasm passed. Tom was quick but I still saw the bloody mucus he wiped from Jane’s lips. Jane fell back on the pillow spent and whispered, “Thanks sweetie, I’m okay.” She smiled at her son looming over her. “You can go back to playing with Candace in the kitchen.”
Tom glanced over at me. “I hope you like pot roast.” He couldn’t hide his concern behind his even smile.
“I don’t know,” I replied, watching him try to casually fold the rag in his hands. “I don’t think I’ve ever tried it.”
“Didn’t your mom make it?” He brushed his mother’s shoulder. “It can be made in the crock pot so it was one of my mom’s favorite recipes.”
“You make it sound like I starved you,” Jane said with a smile. “It was all I could do to keep your gapping maw filled. I swear you had a hollow leg.”
Tom turned to me. “Were you raised on gourmet food, Lara?”
I recalled the years of cast-off food from the diners my mother worked in. At one point, before she married Dale, Mama and I had lived on peanut butter and crackers for weeks. The only decent food I ate as a child were the school lunches and those, only because I forged my mother’s signature on the forms for the free-and-reduced lunch program. “Mama reheated well.”
Jane winked at me.
“Well, I hope you have a good appetite,” Tom said as he headed back into the kitchen. “There’s plenty of food. Can I bring you ladies a cocktail?”
“Thanks, Tom,” I said. I wanted to ask about the bloody rag. The treatments didn’t seem to have halted the cancer. Jane seemed weaker each time I saw her. I selfishly thought it unfair for Jane to die after I had become so attached to her.
I blurted out the first thing that came into my head to break the silence. “That shawl is neat. Did you pick that up in your globetrotting?”
“Guatemala,” Jane replied. A bittersweet smile crossed her face. “Tom’s father and I went to see Tikal before we split up. I picked this up in the market in Chichicastenango. Each of the patterns is supposed to mean something. The little girl I bought it from was a force to be reckoned with. Smart as a whip. I ended up paying way too much for it because I just couldn’t haggle with a child. You really should travel, Lara. There is nothing like it to give you some perspective.” A companionable silence settled between us as Tom and Candace murmured together in the kitchen and Jane was lost in her memories. I thought about Rosaria and wondered if she had ever been that little girl selling shawls in the market.
Tom appeared behind me with a tray of cocktails. “Gin and tonic?” He offered me a tall glass. I took a tentative sip of the drink. Its bitter bubbliness was refreshing. “Dinner should be ready in about ten minutes.”
“Thanks, sweetie,” Jane said. “When you get a second, could you bring me that red bag I put aside for Lara?”
Tom bit his lip and quickly nodded. He disappeared into the master bedroom for a moment then returned with a large tooled-leather tote. He dropped the bag full of scarves and other accessories at my feet. “What’s all this?” I asked.
“I’ve been cleaning out closets and I want you to have these.”
“I can’t take your things.”
Tom cleared his throat awkwardly and returned to the kitchen. I saw him wipe a tear from the corner of his eye with the heel of his hand before he returned to making a salad. Candace put her arm around his shoulder.
Jane rolled her eyes and turned to me. “I want these things to be used and appreciated. Tom will end up giving everything to Good Will.” I didn’t like the way Jane was talking. She wasn’t even pretending she would ever use these things again. I picked up a long scarf in tones of grey and moss green. The silky fabric slipped through my fingers like water.
“There is a beautiful grey dress that goes with that scarf. Unfortunately, it wouldn’t fit you even if you got it hemmed. You’re so little. Tom will have to take it to the consignment shop on Broad Street. You should wear this with that peach blouse and some grey slacks. Anyway, dig in there and find the silver cuff. You should wear that with that pale blue blazer.”
***
The next morning, I spun the silver cuff around my wrist as I rode the elevator to the eighth floor. After doing some research on the Internet, I decided to go on the offensive and speak to Letitia in her office. I didn’t want her seeing the extent of my background notes or polluting my workspace. I wiggled my toes inside my purple pointy-toed pumps and wondered what Garlic Breath and Pathetic Dog Owner would think of my outfit. I’d selected a pearl silk shirt and navy pencil skirt, an homage to my old navy chinos, to go with the robin’s egg blue fitted blazer. I hoped the outfit made me look feminine yet strong. When the door slid open, I fluffed my hair and strode out with an air of self-confidence that I did not fully feel. I expected to see a shocked look on Pathetic Dog Owner’s face but his cube was empty and his monitor was covered by a yellowed plastic dustcover. A kid sat at Bald Guy’s desk. The few faces that did peek over the line of cubes were all strangers to me.
Letitia and Garlic Breath were talking in her office as I strode in that direction. Neither one looked happy to see me. Letitia rapidly said something to Garlic Breath before I opened the door. He quickly gathered up the papers strewn across the desk and shoved them in a file folder. Letitia smoothed her ponytail, straightened the pens on her desk, and stood up as I pushed open the heavy glass door.
“Good morning, Letitia,” I said brightly. “Greg, could you excuse us for a moment? I need to discuss something with Letitia.” Garlic Breath’s mouth hung open vacuously for a moment, then he looked away and lumbered out of the room. He stared at me through the glass wall all the way back to his cube.
“Wow Blaine, I hardly recognized you! Special Projects obviously agrees with you.” Letitia squeezed the paper cup of black coffee in her hand. There were two more cups with a gas station logo in the trashcan under the desk. Hmm, no more Starbucks. Can’t she afford a $4 cup of coffee anymore?
I pushed aside a stack of folders and opened my laptop in the center of the desk. “Frank said we need to coordinate our presentations for Friday.”
“I, um, haven’t finished mine yet.” Letitia crossed her arms over the front of her sleek black suit. “We still have a few days.”
I sensed a dozen eyes on us through the glass walls. They couldn’t hear what we were saying, yet they were all experts at reading body language. My research into interpersonal relationships told me how to act. I leaned on Letitia’s desk with my fingers splayed out. “I’ve emailed you a list of my slides. I will need yours by the end of the day,” I said with a big smile that showed my teeth.
“Sure,” Letitia said a little too quickly. “I can get those to you today.”
It was too soon to leave so I tucked a curl behind my ear exposing a set of silver drop earrings, another gift from Jane, and casually sat on the corner of Letitia’s desk. “So, how’s everything going around here?”
Letitia fell into her chair and crossed her legs. The heel of her right pump was worn down to the metal shank. “It’s been insane. I’ve lost four people in the last two months to rank incompetence, and now Peter is out on disability.”
“Peter?”
“Didn’t you hear? Kidney cancer. It’s been terrible. He went to see the doctor because he thought he had the flu and well, they found it. Greg’s taken it really hard. First he had to step up the workload after you moved downstairs and now his best friend is sick. He’s even been going over and walking Peter’s dogs every morning.”
When Letitia mentioned the dogs, the pieces fell into place. Pathetic Dog Owner had kidney cancer. I never knew Pathetic Dog Owner’s name was Peter. His email is Ppappert, so I guess Peter would be right.
Pathetic Dog Owner has cancer? I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths before rubbing my eyes.
“I’m sorry, I assumed you knew.”
“It’s just such a shock,” I sighed as I stood up and picked up my laptop.
“I know,” Letitia scoffed. She twisted her ponytail around her forefinger. “I can’t believe I have to keep his job open while he’s out. That Vanessa Klaitner won’t let me fire him. Some federal statute or something.”
A bitter taste in my mouth made me swallow hard. I knew it! She totally would have fired me if I told her I had cancer.
I stepped toward the door. The websites said to stay at least five minutes, but I needed to leave before I slapped Letitia silly.
“It’s not like I have any less work without him,” Letitia continued, more to herself than to me.
As I stepped out of the office, I recognized one of my old file boxes inside the cubicle of a petite woman with blue wire framed glasses. I stopped beside her cubicle. “Hi, I’m Lara Blaine.” Through the glass office wall, I could see Letitia stumble around her desk and teeter after me.
“Nice to meet you, Ms. Blaine. You’re a bit of a legend around here.”
I felt my cheeks turning red. “I see you were assigned the pomegranate report. That used to be mine. So if you need any help, please come see me. I’m on the sixth floor.”
“Granger will be fine,” Letitia seethed from behind me.
Garlic Breath’s head popped up over the cubicles. I stepped around Letitia to speak to him. “I was sorry to hear about Peter’s illness. I remember what good friends you are.”
“I… ummm… well,” Garlic Breath stammered.
“Well you tell Peter I’m thinking about him. Okay, Greg?”
“Ummm…” Garlic Breath looked to Letitia for guidance. She was saying something, probably mean, to Ms. Granger. “Okay.”
“I hope he’s back soon. I know you’re down a few people up here,” I said in a loud, clear voice. A sea of eyes watched me walk to the elevator. “I’d hate to see this department suffer. I know how much you all rely on getting your quarterly bonuses.” The word bonus rattled through the cubicles like a breeze through dried leaves.
Letitia stiffened. “I can’t believe you brought that up!”
“Really?” I whispered as I punched the elevator button. “‘Cause you seem to be able to believe all sorts of nasty things about people.”
Letitia’s eyes bugged out of her head. “What do you mean?”
“I’m not on drugs, Letitia. I have cancer.” I stepped into the open elevator and turned around before saying, “Your slides better be good because mine are awesome.” As the doors slid shut, Letitia bit the crimson lipstick off her lower lip. I had only seen her do that when talking to Frank on the phone.
That’s right, Letitia. Be afraid. Be very afraid.