without the howling, crying, fighting and the Jesus-knows-whatever-else I suffered for too long. When the children grew up and moved out, Mrs. Henry Kelly went with them. Mister accepted a job at a library in Canada where heâs been celebrating the respite from the storm ever since.â
âYou know what I think?â
He shakes his head. âI couldnât possibly fathom the likes of your mind, Carl.â
I pretend to be watching the Room. âI think thereâs a woman waiting for you out there.â
He glances at me sideways.
âSheâs eager, pleasing and just down the hall.â
He abandons his usual slouch and widens his eyes. âWho?â he asks.
I cross my legs then sit back in my chair as if the topic wasnât really that important. âThe woman of your dreams.â
âWho?â
I turn to face him. âEdith.â
He resumes his deflated position in his chair with his hands folded over his belly. âYou can inform her on my behalf that sheâs wasting her precious time.â
âWhy not? Sheâs smart, she knows tons of people, sheâsââ
He shoos me with the back of his hand. âInvite her outyourself if youâre so crazy about her,â he says.
âHave you ever considered dating Edith?â
âSheâs not on my radar. Besides, Iâm attracted to cleavage. Hers is about as well-defined as yours.â
I look down at my chest. âStop that, Henry. People will start talking about us.â
âThatâd be a blessing for you â give them something else to gossip about besides your conspiracy to spy on them with your databases and Bibliomining Project.â
âThatâs not what Iâm doing with my project. You know that.â
He leans away from me. âEase off. Theyâre the ones claiming conspiracy, not me. I donât care if youâre conspiring. Do what you want. Iâm only trying to resuscitate you.â
I turn in my chair to face him. âWhat do you expect to receive in exchange?â
âHalf-decent coffee. Could be better. The view. If youâd give me the binoculars. Youâre my charity case, my volunteer work, my university service. Weâre expected to do a certain amount. I dare say youâve exceeded my quota.â
I shake my head. âIâm not counting.â
âYouâre not doing anything worthwhile. Francis is chasing after you. Meanwhile youâre too busy crawling on your hands and knees after your Scandinavian princess to care about anything else.â
âI do care. I simply have to deal with Elsa first.â
âYou donât have time. Francis is rallying the troops. His war-cry has a distinctive anti-Brunet tone. Havenât you heard his privacy ditty? It goes to the tune of âYankee Doodle.ââ Henry abandons his usual slouch. He sings the ditty with his hands on his waist, elbows pointed out to the sides. âBiblio Brunet spies on us, using a computer. Hide your files, watch your back. Heâs an information looter. Or do you prefer something to the tune of âCamptown Racesâ? I always liked the Doo-da, Doo-da in thesong.â For this one, he sways side to side to mark the rhythm.
âDonât let Brunet spy on you, on you, on you. Donât let Brunet see your files, any time of day. Heâs a bumbling fool, drowning in his drool. Donât let Brunet see your files, any time of day. What do you think, Carl?â
âI think you shouldnât joke about it.â
âWhat would you know about joking?â
âMy project is not proposing anything anyone has to fear.â
âFrancisâ prime strategyâs making people afraid. Whatâs your strategy? Or are you going to watch him undermine you while you waste away after your princess? What exactly are your priorities again?â
âTheyâre fighting with each other, scrambling for first
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