I took a deep breath in and out. I bit my tongue to keep from blurting out, “Could you please hurry.” But she needed to go on this journey to trace her steps?—
“Oh, that’s right! I was passing your office when she told me to write the numbers down. She was convinced they were gonna make us millionaires. I didn’t want her to forget, you know her fuzzy old-lady memory.”
I blinked pointedly at her hypocrisy but kept quiet.
“So ... oh, that’s right. I’m sorry.” She opened her eyes and winced at me. “I think I might have rushed into your office to grab something to write on. Those notebooks are everywhere, and I was right in assuming you had one.”
I must have left the list out in one of my failed attempts to start in on it.
“What about the paper that was on top?” My heart was in my throat. I really didn’t want her to have seen it. That would lead to questions, and I hadn’t even told her about Dr. Spinner dumping me because I didn’t need her having any more reasons to worry about me.
This was my fault. Why hadn’t I locked the list in a safe? Why hadn’t I burned it? Why hadn’t I set it to self-destruct like any spy worth their freaking salt?
Because I was a fool.
I couldn’t even take time to say five nice things about myself to cancel out this bad self-talk. This time, my self-recrimination was deserved.
“I—” Her head shook back and forth as she thought.
“I wrote it on the back of the top paper, the plain white side,” I added.
Her shoulders, which had been at her ears, dropped with a sigh, her wince melting into supplication. “I didn’t see writing on the other side. When the numbers were a bust this morning, I must have crumpled the whole paper up and thrown it out.”
“Thrown it out?”
“Sorry. I didn’t know.”
“No. No.” I ran my hands down my face. “This is good. Trash went today. It’s probably long gone, on its way to the city dump a hundred miles away.” I loosed a breathy huff of a laugh—the kind of post-crisis relief.
“Yeah,” she agreed, nodding. “So you don’t need whatever you wrote down?”
I shook my head. Then nodded. Then shook it again. “No. I mean. I do, actually. But I can write it again.” I stumbled over the sort of truth. I’d almost said,As long as nobody else found it, that’s all I care about.
“Okay. Then good. Problem solved. It’s long gone,” she said with a hint of question in her voice, eyes narrowing as she spoke.
“Long gone,” I said, repeating her, and smiled a tenuous grin.
“And you’re sure you’re okay? You were really determined to find it.” She pressed her fingers to my forehead like I might have a panic-induced fever. I probably was worked up and sweaty from my search.
Maybe this was a sign after all? I had imbued so much importance on the list. I’d made it mean so much, and just like that, it was gone. I felt like there was a life lesson there I didn’t want to investigate. I would just find a new way to fix myself.
But that thought caused a tiny tinge of disappointment in myself. I had really thought this time was different, that I could change.
I laughed again with the wave of a hand. “I’m fine. I’m fine,” I repeated, but somehow sounded less certain. “Thanks, Grandma. I’m going to be okay.”
“Okay. If you’re sure.” She spun in a circle, spotted her purse, and pulled it out from under the counter. “Well. I’m off to the bonfire. Thanks again for watching the shop.”
I widened my eyes.
“Wait. What?” I called after her.
She hadn’t asked me to watch the shop. I would have remembered because I would have counted down the hours, unable to complete any other task until that time came.
“You did not tell me you needed me to watch the shop tonight,” I said. My nervous system wasn’t even regulated yet. I needed to do some square breathing before I could handle this.
“Well, maybe I didn’t explicitly ask you, but I’m fairly sure you watching the store was implied.” She flicked her hand out before digging through her bag to pop a piece of minty gum into her mouth.
“How’s that?” My voice was high, and the tension that had just left my shoulders was back.
