The Girl He Used to Know(12)
“Isn’t he adorable? I just want to take him home with me. Do you know opossums don’t actually hang by their tails? People always think they do, but they don’t. They have Mickey Mouse–shaped ears and fifty teeth, but they’re not dangerous.” The other day when I was at the library studying I got sidetracked by a book on opossums, and I learned so many fascinating things. It took almost ten minutes to get through them all, but I shared every last one of those facts with Sue because I was certain she’d want to know.
“Clearly, he’s in good hands.” Sue glanced at her watch and squeezed my arm. “I’ve got to get going. I’ll see you later, okay?”
“Okay.”
I spent the rest of my shift cleaning cages, helping to administer medicine, and giving attention to any animal that needed it. Before I left for the day, I returned to Charlie’s cage to say good-bye. I thought about how much I would miss him when it came time to let him go, and I wondered for just a moment if I would ever feel as attached to a person as I was to the animals.
And I wondered how much it would hurt if I was ever the one they had to let go.
9
Annika
CHICAGO
AUGUST 2001
“I’m going to eat lunch,” my coworker Audrey says. She and I share the small office that houses our desks and computers and a couple of file cabinets. There have been several times when she’s walked into the room and caught me staring off into space. She jokes about how I need to stop slacking off, but it doesn’t sound like she’s teasing when she says it. And I’m not slacking off. Staring into space is how I clear my mind so I can work through whatever problem I’m trying to solve.
“Okay,” I say, because Audrey hates it when I don’t acknowledge her statements. It’s just that I’m not sure what she wants me to say. I didn’t announce that I was going to eat lunch when I took my peanut butter sandwich out of my bag the way I do every single day. It’s lunchtime. Eating is what we do.
As soon as Audrey leaves, I pull a piece of paper from my desk drawer. On it I’ve written everything I’m going to say when I call Jonathan, and all I have to do is read it out loud. I’ve thought long and hard about what Tina said, and I want Jonathan to know that I understand where he’s coming from but that I’d like for us to spend some more time together. Jonathan was so many things to me, but he was also my friend, and I don’t have very many of those.
I’m relieved when I get his voice mail, because that will make this so much easier, but just before the beep, Audrey walks back into our office. I don’t want her to see me reading from a script, so I shove the paper under my desk blotter and wing it.
“Hey, Jonathan. It’s Annika. Again. I just, um … thought you might be interested in doing something on Saturday.” My throat feels dry and I take a fast sip of water, dribbling it down my chin in the process. “The weather’s supposed to be nice so maybe we could pick up some lunch and take it to the park. If you’re busy or you don’t want to, that’s okay too. I want you to know I understand where you’re coming from. I just thought I would ask. Okay, bye.”
I disconnect the call and gasp for air.
“Was that a personal call?” Audrey asks.
“It was nothing,” I say. I need a minute to regulate my breathing and vent the adrenaline racing through my bloodstream from one stupid phone call.
“It didn’t seem like nothing. Who is Jonathan?” I don’t report to Audrey, but she’s been here three years longer than I have and acts like she’s entitled to know all of my business, professional or otherwise.
“He’s just someone I used to know.”
She leans against the edge of my desk. “Like an old boyfriend?”
“This is my lunch hour.” Why didn’t I say that before? And can’t she see the sandwich on my desk?
“What are you talking about?” she asks in a bitchy voice, the one she uses when she thinks I’ve said something particularly strange.
“I just meant … when you first came in and asked if it was a personal call. This is my lunch hour.” I shut my eyes and rub my temples.
“Are you getting sick or something?” She talks to me like I’m a toddler. Her voice is always very loud, so it feels like she’s yelling at me.
“I’m just getting a headache.”
“Will you be able to finish out the day? I can’t cover for you this afternoon like I had to last week when you were gone. I had to stay late that night.”
“I’m sorry,” I sputter.
“It was a lot of extra work.”
“I won’t need you to cover for me. I’ll take something for my headache.” Audrey stares at me, making no move to leave. I pull out my desk drawer and shake a couple of pain relief capsules into my hand. I choke a little when I try to swallow them because I didn’t take a big enough drink from my water bottle.
Audrey sighs and reaches into her desk drawer for some crackers. “I’m sure my soup is cold now,” she says as she leaves the room again, and though I had nothing to do with it, it somehow feels like my fault.
When Audrey returns, I slip into the break room to make a cup of tea and I see my coworker Stacy. She always has a smile for me and her voice is very calming. When Stacy burns her finger on the meal she takes out of the microwave, I tell her I’m sorry and give her a little side hug.