“Wow. Thank you.” His sudden kindness is almost unnerving. But I’m going to accept it as an honest thing.
“Yes,” Ernesto says. “And if you have any questions, please don’t hesitate to ask.”
“Thank you.” I say and then turn to Tony. “Both of you.”
Doris rolls her eyes again and says, “Give me a fucking break.”
Ernesto sighs and says, “Seriously, Doris? Have you learned nothing?”
She looks down and says, “Maybe it’s been too long. I’m just too cynical. Hell, I was cynical long before I stepped in front of the bus. And I did try to care for a long time. You know I did. But how many souls did I care about, only to see them fuck up their grief watch and go to Oblivion?”
“I don’t know,” Ernesto says.
“Me, neither. I stopped counting twenty-five years ago.” Doris looks at me and says, “If you care too much, this will drain you. You can’t save people if they aren’t interested in saving themselves.” She nods her head toward Ernesto and says, “He sees the suicide souls after they’ve completed grief watch. And the souls he spends the most time with are permanent residents. He simply cannot understand what it’s like.”
“But I do,” Tony says.
“Of course, you do. That’s why you’re brazen enough to play that little game with Edgar, gambling on these souls like they’re racehorses.”
Tony bites his bottom lip and looks down. I can’t help but mimic the lip-bite just to see how it feels. It feels like nothing.
“Are you scared?” I ask and immediately feel foolish.
Doris nods solemnly and says, “Yes. But this is a mess of my own making. Remember me when you get tempted to abuse your power. You’ll have plenty of opportunities to do it.” She turns to Ernesto again and says, “Thank you, Ernesto, for standing up for me. I doubt it will do any good at this point. But it was still very thoughtful.”
“Of course. How could I not?” he asks.
“Well, I’m not exactly popular around here,” she says. The sudden humility rings fake.
“I don’t think you’re a bad soul. I think you just messed up. Everyone messes up sometimes,” Ernesto says.
I hope I always have Ernesto as an ally. If he can stand up for Doris, he’ll do the same for me if I need it someday.
Again, I’m too wrapped up in boardroom drama to notice the pull. This time I’m with Nolan. I’d almost forgotten about him.
He’s staring at a woman who appears to be in her late-50s. She has thick, shoulder-length hair and black-framed glasses. She’s sitting behind a large oak desk in a room with dark blue walls. She’s staring at a computer screen, occasionally clicking the mouse or a few keys.
“Who’s that?” I ask.
Nolan turns to me and frowns. “When did you get here?”
“Just now.”
“Hm.” He turns his gaze from me back to the woman. “She’s my sister.”
“How many siblings did you have?” I’m not sure if I should have said “did” or “do.” Some of the semantics are still confusing.
“Four. Two brothers and two sisters.” He doesn’t take his eyes off her.
“What’s your plan here?”
“Well, this one didn’t like me too much. I wasn’t very nice to her when she decided to become a lesbian.”
“First of all, no one decides to be gay.” My anger surprises us both.
He waves his hands up in surrender. “I know, I know.” He puts his hands down and continues, “It just took me some time to get used to it. She’s my baby sister. It was tough for me at first.”
“Well, just imagine how tough it was for her.”
“I know, okay?” Nolan looks at me and raises his eyebrows. “Anyway, it took me some time to accept her announcement. Then once I dealt with it, it took her some time to forgive me for taking some time.”
“Were you two okay by the time you died?”
He shrugs and says, “Just okay. We’d see each other at family get-togethers and talk. But we’d never go out of our way to see each other. I called her occasionally, but she never called me. Can’t say that I blame her.”
“Have you been here long?” I ask.
“I don’t think so.”
There’s really no reason for us to hurry, and I don’t want to be there for the judge’s ruling. I’ve seen enough soul-eating today. If things go badly for Doris, I’d rather be here than there.
“I’ve got it!”
“Great!” I’m being sarcastic, but I don’t think he notices.
“See that carved wooden fish on the shelf?” He points to a bookshelf to our right of the oak desk.
“Yeah. That’s pretty. Did you make it?”
“I did.” He beams with pride and says, “It was a peace offering.”
I don’t ask if the fish was supposed to represent anything. I’m not sure I want to know.
“Can we knock it off the shelf?”
I nod and motion for him to follow me to the shelf. We stand there together, both fully concentrating on moving the fish. I even go through the motions of knocking it over. After an almost exhausting effort, the fish teeters to the edge of the shelf and tumbles to the floor, resulting in a soft thud.
Nolan’s sister gasps and looks up from the computer. She stands and approaches the shelf. We back up as if she’s going to run into us.
She picks up the fish and her bottom lip starts to tremble. She hurls the fish against the wall, and tears start pouring down her face.
“She didn’t have to do that,” he says.
“Maybe she did. You got results.”
The tug starts and I instinctively grab for Nolan’s hand, fearful for what awaits me back in the boardroom.
On the train back to Connecticut I sit with my head against the window, using the dirty hard surface as a pillow. I didn’t even try to charm my way into a free ticket this time. I just gave the clerk dead Juniper’s money and kept my head down. If he recognized me, he didn’t let on.
I don’t know how I’m supposed to explain that Juniper Haskell committed suicide in a young up-and-comer’s apartment today when we were supposed to be attending to her son. Her son. Shit. Juniper had kids. Three, I think. But maybe they’ll handle it all okay since she was already dying.
I’m sure I had days that were this emotionally taxing when I was still alive. It’s hard to remember, though. It’s hard to remember much from those days at all. There is just the knowledge of another me, another life. A life that I ended myself because I couldn’t sack up and handle that sometimes life is shit.
But I have to figure out this life. It’s the one I have now. And dammit, it’s a pretty good set up. I just have to live in a house with a bunch of entitled strangers for a couple of months and let people film my every move. No big deal.
Who am I kidding? It’s terrible. Especially right now. I can’t have a camera in my face after everything I’ve been through today.
I was so happy when I thought I was about to be a dad. And I don’t even know Rochelle. It just felt like everything was going to be fine. Like she and I would move in together, maybe get married after I made sure that we actually loved each other. But we would raise the baby together no matter what. But it was all a lie. And I chose her over Naomi.
What will happen to Naomi? I’m pretty sure she’ll be fine. She’s tough. Much tougher than me. But I’ll never see her again. And I have to be okay with that.
“Andy!”
My reverie is broken by a woman standing in the aisle. I stare at her for a beat. She looks like she’s around thirty. She has brown curly hair and big green eyes. Her face attaches to a memory. It’s unnerving yet it’s exactly what I need.
“Polly?”
She sits down and scoots in, pushing my body closer to the window. I don’t mind though, because she smells like lavender. But she has always smelled like lavender. She puts lavender oil in her hair or something like that.