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“Okay then. I get it,” said Abby.
“Seriously,” Sharlene said, leaning in closer. “That mailman? There are things I could tell you…”
The front door opened and Danielle breezed in. “Sorry I’m a couple minutes late. I tried that new Greek place and it took them forever. They’re truly on Greek island time. Don’t bother going there; their cucumber sauce tastes like it’s made with mayonnaise instead of yogurt. Barf! And their falafel is really hard. Is falafel even Greek? I was under the impression it was from someplace else.”
“How’s that football player boyfriend of yours?” Sharlene asked her.
“Great. Why do you ask?”
“Just wondering. He treatin’ you right?” Sharlene gave Abby a not-discreet wink that Danielle couldn’t help but observe. Abby kept sorting mail.
“Yeah. Of course. Why wouldn’t he?”
“No reason.”
“I feel like you’re trying to stir something up,” Danielle said.
“No way. I just wondered how you two lovebirds were doing.”
“Whatever. I have tons of work to do Sharlene, if you’ll excuse me. Abby, I can take over with the mail sorting,” Danielle said, laying her manicured hands on the mail bin and pulling it out of Abby’s reach. “If I let you do it, I have to redo it anyway, so you might as well leave it for me.”
“Fine,” Abby said. “I really didn’t want to do it anyway.”
“While I’m thinking of it, Sharlene,” said Danielle, “you need to quit smoking out your office window. It makes our business look trashy, not to mention, our air conditioning bills are atrocious.”
Sharlene slammed the latte down again, but it was now too empty to splatter. “You’re calling me trashy?”
“What’s that tone supposed to mean? You’re the reason our electrical bills are so high. You’re the reason no one around here has gotten a raise in forever.”
“That window doesn’t even close all the way. This isn’t my fault,” Sharlene said.
“Abby, move please,” Danielle said. “You’re making it really hard to work.”
Abby stepped to the side and noticed a photo of Danielle and her football player boyfr
iend, tucked off beside some plastic stackable files. In all the times she’d sat at her desk she had never seen it before. She picked it up and scrutinized it for a moment and then set it face down.
“Abby, stop touching my stuff. Seriously. Both of you need to get out of my space before I lose it,” Danielle said.
Abby went to her office and closed the door while Sharlene remained upfront arguing with Danielle. She sat down at her desk, surveying the ticket stubs and playbills trapped beneath the glass, mementos of someone else’s happy life, noticing them all again for the first time in months. Then she put her head down on the cool, empty desktop. She listened to her own breathing.
She didn’t want to picture Charlie and Danielle together, but she couldn’t help it. She imagined Danielle’s narrow face, Charlie’s dark eyes. She couldn’t turn off the images. She told herself that it really shouldn’t matter. If anything, it should make it all that much easier.
She sighed and a tiny cloud of condensation appeared on the glass desk top. She drew a frowny face in it with her fingertip and watched as it disappeared.
It was almost quarter after 1:00 on Tuesday afternoon. Time to go home; if she hung around much longer it would start to seem unusual. And like Charlie had told her, dozens of times now, all she needed to do was be completely normal.
So she grabbed her purse, waved goodbye to Danielle who barely looked up from the mail she was sorting, and went out to the bright, sunny street. As predictable as could be.
Chapter 36
“Barabara Walters? Is this supposed to be a joke?”
“Not a joke.” He was one of those people who talked under his breath. Abby could barely hear him.
“You know that’s a news lady. Right?”
“It’s just a name.”
