knew it wasn’t there.
How could you be such a moron?
she castigated herself again as she fumbled inside her purse for her car keys.
What were you thinking?
“That’s just it. You
weren’t
thinking,” Jamie said before either her mother or sister had a chance.
You never think until it’s too late
, they added anyway.
Jamie checked her watch. 8:40. “I’m late all right. Mrs. Starkey is going to kill me.”
But Mrs. Starkey wasn’t in her corner office when Jamie finally plopped down at her desk at almost ten minutes after nine. The four other claims adjusters who shared the sun-filled space barely acknowledged her entrance, although she thought she detected a slight shake of the head from Mary McTeer.
“Everything okay?” Karen Romanick asked without looking up from her computer. Karen was Jamie’s closest friend at Allstate, although they rarely exchanged confidences and never socialized outside the office. She was reed thin and her hair was a veritable explosion of frizzy blond curls that lent a faintly frantic air to everything she did. Being around her for any length of time made Jamie nervous.
Jamie nodded. “Mrs. Starkey not here yet?”
“Oh, she’s here all right.” Karen’s tone rendered further comment unnecessary. Mrs. Starkey was here, the tone said, and she wasn’t happy.
“Great.” Jamie turned on her computer, calling up one of the files she’d been working on the day before.
“Did you get to the hospital?” Karen asked out of the side of her mouth.
“I sure did.”
“So how’s Tim?”
“Married,” Jamie said simply, then caught the strange look on Karen’s long, triangular face. “You knew?” she asked incredulously.
“You didn’t?”
I am
such
an idiot, Jamie thought again. Was she the only person in the world who hadn’t known?
You only see what you want to see
, she heard her mother say.
The phone on Jamie’s desk rang. Maybe it’s Brad, Jamie found herself thinking. He’s sorry he had to run out so early; he wants to make it up to me. Jamie took a deep breath and answered the phone in the middle of its second ring. “Jamie Kellogg,” she announced hopefully. “How can I help you?”
But instead of Brad’s soothing voice whispering words of apology in her ear, she heard the nasal New York accent of Selma Hersh berating her for not getting back to her yesterday, as she had promised she would.
“I’m so sorry,” Jamie told the woman, trying to remember exactly who she was as she pressed the keys to locate her file. “I was having some problems with the computer yesterday, and I couldn’t access the information I needed.”
There was a snort of derision from Selma Hersh. “When can I expect my check?” she barked.
Jamie quickly scanned the woman’s file. “It appears we still don’t have all the necessary documentation, Mrs. Hersh.”
“What are you talking about?”
“We need a doctor’s letter stating the cause of your husband’s death.”
“You have a copy of the death certificate. Why do you need anything else?”
“It’s standard policy, Mrs. Hersh. We need a note from the doctor who pronounced your husband dead, stating the exact cause of death.”
“He died of pneumonia.”
“Yes, but I still need a note, on the doctor’s letterhead—”
“My husband died at JFK Memorial. How am I supposed to know what doctor pronounced him dead?”
“I’m sure the hospital can assist you in obtaining that information.”
“This is ridiculous.”
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Hersh. If you’ll just get us that note, we can release the check to you immediately.”
“This is absurd. I want to speak to your supervisor.”
“I’ll have her call you as soon as she gets in.” The line went dead in Jamie’s hands. “Have a nice day,” she said just before the phone rang again. Jamie took a deep breath, pushed her lips into a smile. “Jamie Kellogg.”
“Jamie. Hello.”
She recognized Tim’s voice immediately, although it lacked
How could you be such a moron?
she castigated herself again as she fumbled inside her purse for her car keys.
What were you thinking?
“That’s just it. You
weren’t
thinking,” Jamie said before either her mother or sister had a chance.
You never think until it’s too late
, they added anyway.
Jamie checked her watch. 8:40. “I’m late all right. Mrs. Starkey is going to kill me.”
But Mrs. Starkey wasn’t in her corner office when Jamie finally plopped down at her desk at almost ten minutes after nine. The four other claims adjusters who shared the sun-filled space barely acknowledged her entrance, although she thought she detected a slight shake of the head from Mary McTeer.
“Everything okay?” Karen Romanick asked without looking up from her computer. Karen was Jamie’s closest friend at Allstate, although they rarely exchanged confidences and never socialized outside the office. She was reed thin and her hair was a veritable explosion of frizzy blond curls that lent a faintly frantic air to everything she did. Being around her for any length of time made Jamie nervous.
Jamie nodded. “Mrs. Starkey not here yet?”
“Oh, she’s here all right.” Karen’s tone rendered further comment unnecessary. Mrs. Starkey was here, the tone said, and she wasn’t happy.
“Great.” Jamie turned on her computer, calling up one of the files she’d been working on the day before.
“Did you get to the hospital?” Karen asked out of the side of her mouth.
“I sure did.”
“So how’s Tim?”
“Married,” Jamie said simply, then caught the strange look on Karen’s long, triangular face. “You knew?” she asked incredulously.
“You didn’t?”
I am
such
an idiot, Jamie thought again. Was she the only person in the world who hadn’t known?
You only see what you want to see
, she heard her mother say.
The phone on Jamie’s desk rang. Maybe it’s Brad, Jamie found herself thinking. He’s sorry he had to run out so early; he wants to make it up to me. Jamie took a deep breath and answered the phone in the middle of its second ring. “Jamie Kellogg,” she announced hopefully. “How can I help you?”
But instead of Brad’s soothing voice whispering words of apology in her ear, she heard the nasal New York accent of Selma Hersh berating her for not getting back to her yesterday, as she had promised she would.
“I’m so sorry,” Jamie told the woman, trying to remember exactly who she was as she pressed the keys to locate her file. “I was having some problems with the computer yesterday, and I couldn’t access the information I needed.”
There was a snort of derision from Selma Hersh. “When can I expect my check?” she barked.
Jamie quickly scanned the woman’s file. “It appears we still don’t have all the necessary documentation, Mrs. Hersh.”
“What are you talking about?”
“We need a doctor’s letter stating the cause of your husband’s death.”
“You have a copy of the death certificate. Why do you need anything else?”
“It’s standard policy, Mrs. Hersh. We need a note from the doctor who pronounced your husband dead, stating the exact cause of death.”
“He died of pneumonia.”
“Yes, but I still need a note, on the doctor’s letterhead—”
“My husband died at JFK Memorial. How am I supposed to know what doctor pronounced him dead?”
“I’m sure the hospital can assist you in obtaining that information.”
“This is ridiculous.”
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Hersh. If you’ll just get us that note, we can release the check to you immediately.”
“This is absurd. I want to speak to your supervisor.”
“I’ll have her call you as soon as she gets in.” The line went dead in Jamie’s hands. “Have a nice day,” she said just before the phone rang again. Jamie took a deep breath, pushed her lips into a smile. “Jamie Kellogg.”
“Jamie. Hello.”
She recognized Tim’s voice immediately, although it lacked
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