Commuters by Emily Gray Tedrowe

increasing agitation, until one of them would end the conversation, in fluster and dismay.
    Just as she moved to shut off the heat under the soup, the back door opened, and there was Jerry, a brown-paper package underan arm, his shirt collar cockeyed on one side. Winnie breathed in. She imagined that she could smell him before he was even fully in the room—that harsh yellow soap he liked, the metallic whiff of the car’s air conditioner, and the heat coming off his big body.
    “I was just starting to worry,” Winnie said.
    “Went over to the post office. Had to sign a few things, registered mail. Am I late?”
    “No, no,” Winnie said, taking the package away. “Sit down, now.”
    Jerry drained a full glass of water while she set up his lunch. “There’s something,” he said. “I didn’t want to get you all worked up, but…”
    Winnie sat down at once.
    “It’s all a lot of nonsense. Just a strategy to get some attention. All will get sorted out in the end.” Jerry pushed a half slice of bread in his mouth. He seemed embarrassed to be having this conversation.
    “Is it Avery? Did he ever call back?”
    Jerry, mouth full, shook his head.
    Winnie had a new thought. “It’s not…the other thing, is it? That…other sort of trouble?”
    Jerry shook his head, swallowed mightily, and drank again. He hadn’t touched the soup.
    “Would you rather have sweet tea? I can make a pitcher—”
    “What about soda water? We have any of those cans left?” Winnie jumped up to get one. She desperately worried he might ask for a sandwich. “You eating, Winifred?”
    “Me? No, I had something earlier. Shall I call him again? Avery?We could have him out to dinner. A barbeque with Rachel and the girls. Or just us, I don’t know. Whatever you think would help.”
    “It’s not Avery—it’s Annette.”
    “Yes?”
    “She’s suing me. Not to put too fine a point on it.” Jerry wiped his mouth and finally picked up his spoon.
    “What do you mean?”
    He made a disgusted tch sound. “It’s not a matter for the courts, or anything like that. It better not be. Business decision. She wants to force a change in the board—make a play for something she and I disagree over. It’s not personal.”
    “Not personal ? I don’t understand! What does she say to you?”
    “Hasn’t said anything, because I just heard about it this morning. From Ed Weller.”
    “But—but—” Winnie didn’t know what to ask first. How could he be so calm? A lawsuit ? Was Annette even allowed to sue her own father? Her father, who built the very company she was in charge of?
    Suddenly, something occurred to her. “Jerry. Could she be—I mean, is this about us? Me? I know it’s been hard for her to accept.”
    “Now, this is why I didn’t want to say anything,” Jerry said, raising his voice. He started to point the spoon at her, then put it down. “And maybe I shouldn’t have.”
    “But I signed the papers. Annette must know that, right? The—” Winnie hated the term, that always-shortened, flip sound of it. “Pre-nup.”
    “That’s different. That’s not part of this. What it is, is…” Jerry exhaled heavily, and looked around the kitchen. “One of thecompanies, the original one—TrevisCorp—well, Annette’s heading that up. And she’s been making noises for a year about wanting to separate from the rest of the corporation, to run it on its own. Then take it public, probably. I don’t know what she’s all about.”
    “And you won’t let her.”
    “No I won’t let her! Frank and I built that shop from the ground up, back when we were just out of the army. I’m not putting my name, or my brother’s name, on some foolish IPO, just so Annette can outsource labor to India and run up a quick profit. And anyway, she’s not ready.”
    But why now? Winnie had to wonder if it wasn’t a coincidence that Annette would do something so horrible now, less than a month after her father remarried. But it seemed selfish to