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JULIETTE LIKED HER job. She was a secretary for both the Philosophy and Economics departments at the local University, and she loved the resulting diversity of her daily tasks. The students who wandered in and out of her office were a constant source of joy in her life; as diverse as the programs she oversaw.
Kelly, a senior majoring in Economics, was being pressured by her boyfriend to move in with him after graduation. "What should I do?" Kelly would pace the small floor space in front of Juliette's desk, asking the same question almost daily, then drop dramatically into the chair and throw her arms out wide. "I love him so much, but I want us to get married first. What if I say no and he breaks up with me?" Instead of giving Kelly pat answers, she encouraged her to do what she already knew was right.
Gavin technically had two more years until graduation, but at the rate he was going, a degree was going to take a lot longer than that. He wasn't interested in the process of education. He preferred the social life and the free gym membership, and was struggling to keep his grades high enough to convince his parents and professors that he should be allowed to stay. His major was clearly the wrong choice; he'd based it on the misconception that Philosophy was all about opinions and beliefs, therefore, no learning of new things was required. "Dude, have you ever read Homer's Iliad? Or Odyssey? That guy was insane! Or he was smoking something when he wrote that stuff. How else could he come up with such a freak show?" Juliette was doing everything she could imagine to keep Gavin from flunking out.
She and Sharon Scoville, the secretary who shared the office suite with her, had been best friends for as long as she could remember. It was Sharon who told her about the university job, and their friendship made their daily tasks much less menial. They carpooled, ate lunch together, and shared many an evening meal together when Chris, Sharon's husband, taught his night classes at the local junior college across town. Tonight, they were going out to dinner at their favorite little Greek restaurant to discuss Juliette's new dating game.
Sharon settled herself into the passenger seat. "I'm starving!" She turned in her seat and smiled at Juliette as they pulled away from the curb. "So? How did it go? What was he like?" She'd had a lunch date with some visiting staff and hadn't got the scoop from Juliette yet.
"He looked exactly like Mike."
"Ugh."
"Yeah."
"So did you wear your new dress?" Sharon had made Juliette model it for her when she returned to the office with it and had given it her vote of approval.
"For about half an hour, yes. But honestly, it just made me look like a chubby, pink duck." She explained the whole duck phenomenon to Sharon.
"Well, it's a good thing it was a blind date, then, right?"
"Ha-ha," Juliette responded sarcastically. Then a silly thought occurred to her. "You know, if all my dates actually were blind, it wouldn't matter if I looked like a duck, would it?"
"In fact, if we were all blind, the world would be rid of a lot of its problems," Sharon concurred.
"Not if I still drove." Juliette swerved wildly, and Sharon squealed and punched her in the arm, making her swerve again.
"Don't hit me while I'm driving!" Juliette hooted. They were laughing so hard neither of them noticed the flashing lights behind them, but the sound of the siren's whine got their attention without further ado.
"Oh no!" Juliette gasped, as they exchanged horrified glances. The only other vehicle on the street was a pickup truck, and it was parked, so there was no doubt that the police car was hailing them. "I can't get pulled over again!" she wailed. "Where did he come from?"
"Again?" Sharon looked aghast at her, trying to get her giggles under control. "When did you get pulled over, and how come you didn't tell me about it?"
"Because it was stupid. I was only driving ten miles over the speed limit, and the officer lectured me, ticketed me, and treated me like I was a little old lady."
"Juliette Gustafson got a ticket? For speeding? No way!" Sharon's eyes were wide with amused shock, and she covered her mouth with her hand, laughing again at the look on Juliette's face.
"Stop making fun of me! I can't concentrate."
She pulled over, resisting the wild-hair impulse to punch on the gas and lead the officer on a merry car chase. She rolled down her window and turned off her ignition, feeling like an old hand at the procedure now.
"Hello, ladies."
Juliette looked up, up, up into the face of the same officer who'd pulled her over not even two weeks ago.
She had a momentary flashback to a night when she'd been sent to her room for cutting Renata's hair. Hiding under her bed, she waited for Papa to come home, her heart pounding in her chest, until her bedroom door opened, and his feet crossed the floor, stopping directly in front of her face. She slid just her head out from beneath the dust ruffle, and looked up, up, up at Papa, who towered over her, too.
"Hello, officer," she squeaked. Sharon tittered helplessly.
"That was quite some driving," he declared, as he bent down to study them, his forehead creasing above the top of his sunglasses. "What's so funny, ma'am?"
"Nothing, sir." Sharon chewed her bottom lip.
Juliette squared her shoulders, trying desperately to hold on to whatever dignity she had left. She started to explain. The whole talking thing, that was her first mistake. "I was just pretending to drive blind—' She stopped abruptly, and Sharon burst out laughing.
The officer straightened, his shoulders and head disappearing from view, and a desperate Juliette turned to her friend. That was her second mistake. When their eyes met, she, too, began to laugh, and when the man ducked his head again and asked for her license and registration, she could only nod in response and hand them over.
"This is getting to be a habit for you, isn't it, Ms. Gustafson?" Apparently, he recognized her, too.
"Sorry," she hiccupped, afraid to look at him.
"Have either of you been drinking?" He glanced down at the watch on his wrist as if to condemn them for even considering being intoxicated at this hour. He removed his sunglasses, braced his hands on his knees, and eyed them both, searching their faces for evidence of anything criminal. Juliette thought she saw his nostrils flare, as though sniffing the air for fumes.
Sharon leaned forward to see him around Juliette and shook her head. "We don't drink, Officer." The way she said it must have set his mind at ease. He studied them for a few more moments, then nodded.
"Driving blind, huh?"
Juliette did look at him then, in a rash attempt to be bold. His face was rather close to hers as he leaned down at her window, and she was surprised to see he wasn't nearly as old and staid as she'd originally thought. In fact, he didn't look any older than she was. With his glasses off, she could see the humor in his deep-set gray eyes, almost the same color as her own, and she began to relax. She opened her mouth to say something clever. That was her third mistake.
"It gets better. I was pretending to be a chubby, pink duck driving blind."
Sharon laughed so hard, she doubled over in her seat, barely able to catch her breath. Juliette, mortified, stared straight ahead. She waited in silence while her friend got herself under control. The officer waited in silence, too.
Finally, a subdued Sharon reached a hand over to lay it on Juliette's shoulder. "Oh, Juju." She looked past her at the man still standing beside the window. "Officer, please don't give us a ticket. You caught us in the middle of childish fun, and we're sorry if we were being a little reckless. We'll be more careful, we promise."
Juliette nodded silently. Without warning, a tear slid from the corner of her eye, and she swiped it away as quickly as she could.
"Are you all right, Ms. Gustafson?" The officer spoke gently, his voice low.
She nodded again, wishing for all the world she would wake up to find this was just a bad dream, but two more tears betrayed her, forming cool tracks down each flaming cheek. "I...I'm fine. Allergies." Sharon patted her shoulder but didn't say anything.
"I see." The policeman reached into his shirt pocket, then held out his hand, offering her a folded tissue. "Don't worry. I haven't used it yet." Undone by his kindness, she covered her face with the tissue and nodded.
Sharon got out, and she and the officer met at the back of the car. Juliette could hear them speaking in low tones, and at first, she tried to eavesdrop, but after a few moments, she realized she didn't really want to hear what they were saying about her. She thought instead about moussaka, and how glad she was that The Fat Greek made one with zucchini, as well as the standard eggplant. She much preferred the color of eggplant to the taste and texture of it. Zucchini, on the other hand, she loved.
The conversation stopped, and Sharon came around to Juliette's window. "Out with you, girlie. I'm going to drive." She spoke gently, but in a way that brooked no argument. Juliette obeyed and walked around to the passenger side where the policeman held the door open for her. Before she climbed in, she paused and looked up at him, in spite of her embarrassment.
"Thank you, Officer. I'm sorry for behaving so badly in public." She didn't think that sounded right. "Not that I behave badly when I'm alone or anything." He nodded solemnly, but she could tell he was trying not to smile. "Oh, never mind," she muttered. "Quack." She plopped her duck butt down on the seat, and refused to look at him again, her humiliation complete.
