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Me:Is she fluffier?
Drew:She got a wash and a blow dry.
Me:She’s beautiful! Is she tough, too?
Drew:Just like her namesake.
Mom. We’ve gone there again. I figure he’s softened toward me, so it feels comfortable to click on his name and send through an actual call.
“Ensley,” he says, and I have to admit, my body shivers at the sound of it.
“Drew.” I hear a meow in the background. “And Sasha!”
“She’s a talker.”
“Then you two are the perfect pair. She will fill all the silences.” I realize my hands are sweaty, and I rub them on my skirt.
There’s silence for a moment, but I can’t let it go on. My compulsion to talk is too strong. “So I have a new confession.”
“Oh?”
“I thought we could continue our theme from the shed.”
“We had a lot of themes in the shed.”
My face gets warm as I realize he’s thinking of the other activities we could continue. But I stumble on. “Remember, you confessed you aren’t relationship material. And I confessed I crushed on you when I was twelve.”
“Right.”
“I told you about Janet. She’s a piece of work. Well, I’ve been pulling pranks on her for quite some time. It might be driving her mad.”
“Oh?”
“She’s one of these organization freaks. There’s six of us in the office. The tellers, the branch manager, and then the bankers and loan officer.”
“Sure.”
“Janet got annoyed that the refrigerator was always a mess. So she designated zones. She marked her zone where her food goes. I got mine. My boss has hers. Et cetera.”
“What did you do?”
“I felt like putting the squeeze on her spot.”
“You moved the zones.”
“Tiny, tiny bits at a time. She put masking tape around them, so I made her zone smaller and smaller every day.”
“That’s pretty evil.”
“I can be evil.”
“How long did you move the zone on her?”
“I’m still doing it.”
His laugh is like music to me. “And she’s never said anything about it?”
“I’m not sure she’s figured it out. Sometimes she shoves her paper bag in there and tilts her head like—huh.”
