of the snow has melted… What’d you do, meet another true love of your life?”
“Just get off my case, would you?” Carole lashed out in a rare fit of temper. Her blond hair stood up in furious spikes above her forehead. There’s still snow in the North End and most of it’s in my street.” She stomped back to the darkroom and called, “Look at my car if you don’t believe me!”
“It’s true,” I reported, peering out the window. “Carole’s car has snow on the roof.”
“You know something?” June snapped. “You ought to get your own TV show— Pam Nilsen: Miss Fair Puts In Her Two Cents. You ought to get a medal for sympathetic remarks.”
I sat down on the couch. “Look, all right, June—we both miss Penny and Ray. But wishing isn’t going to bring them back. We’ve got six weeks and if we don’t all start getting along better here we might as well cash it in right now and fly on down to Nicaragua to join them.”
I’d never seen June cry before and I didn’t see her now either, but sudden tears came into her bright brown eyes and she let out her breath with a big huff. “You’re right, I guess. It’s not Ray so much though, it’s Penny. Only two days and I miss her,” she finally said. “It seems so—empty—around here.”
“It doesn’t have to be that tough, does it? Listen, what are you and the girls doing this weekend? You want to go to the zoo or something?”
“Change that show to Pam Nilsen: Social Director ,” she said, but she smiled this time. I’ve got me a boyfriend and two kids, so what am I feeling so abandoned for? Anyway, I’m going skydiving with my club on Saturday. That’s something you should check out. We’ve got an extra parachute.”
“Hey, I’m talking giraffes and you’re talking broken bones.”
“Just come up in the plane. Do you good to get your feet off the ground for once.”
And to my alarm, I said I would.
10
T RISH DIDN’T COME BY FOR LUNCH and she didn’t call either. Neither of which worried me all that much. I tried calling her twice in the afternoon, but there no answer both times. That worried me a little more.
I kept my fears to myself, however, and put my energy into attempting to bring a bit of peace and harmony into the workplace. I went into the darkroom and got Carole talking about her frozen pipes and unplowed street, until she too began to unthaw a little. I asked if she’d like to have dinner with me and June at my house Sunday night. At first she seemed distant and glum, but by the end of the conversation she was more her old self and thanked me profusely for inviting her.
“I’m sorry I was so out of it this morning, Pam,” she said, sighing and twisting her long curl between her fingers. “It was Suz, you know, that woman I met at the New Year’s party, the one with the cute little tattoo, you know, the anchor? Well, I spent the night with her last night and you know what she did, she brought out a pair of handcuffs. If I hadn’t had my blow torch I don’t know what I would have done.”
For such an innocuous, optimistic person, Carole certainly managed to get herself in some strange situations. But it didn’t occur to me to ask her what she was doing with a blow torch at her lover’s house. Knowing Carole she probably just forgot she was carrying it.
I went back to the press room and asked June about dinner too. She rolled her eyes and said, “Let’s not carry this collective friendliness too far.”
“Oh, come on, June, it won’t kill you. Carole’s not that bad. I think she’s funny.”
“Yeah and so is Lucille Ball. For about two minutes.”
“But she means well—she’s just a little…”
“Cuckoo.” June sighed, “Yeah, all right. You want me to bring something?”
“Just yourself. I’ll make something good.” It would be my big chance to move into the Main Entries section of my cookbook.
Mission accomplished, I turned to my work in the front office, trying to understand
“Just get off my case, would you?” Carole lashed out in a rare fit of temper. Her blond hair stood up in furious spikes above her forehead. There’s still snow in the North End and most of it’s in my street.” She stomped back to the darkroom and called, “Look at my car if you don’t believe me!”
“It’s true,” I reported, peering out the window. “Carole’s car has snow on the roof.”
“You know something?” June snapped. “You ought to get your own TV show— Pam Nilsen: Miss Fair Puts In Her Two Cents. You ought to get a medal for sympathetic remarks.”
I sat down on the couch. “Look, all right, June—we both miss Penny and Ray. But wishing isn’t going to bring them back. We’ve got six weeks and if we don’t all start getting along better here we might as well cash it in right now and fly on down to Nicaragua to join them.”
I’d never seen June cry before and I didn’t see her now either, but sudden tears came into her bright brown eyes and she let out her breath with a big huff. “You’re right, I guess. It’s not Ray so much though, it’s Penny. Only two days and I miss her,” she finally said. “It seems so—empty—around here.”
“It doesn’t have to be that tough, does it? Listen, what are you and the girls doing this weekend? You want to go to the zoo or something?”
“Change that show to Pam Nilsen: Social Director ,” she said, but she smiled this time. I’ve got me a boyfriend and two kids, so what am I feeling so abandoned for? Anyway, I’m going skydiving with my club on Saturday. That’s something you should check out. We’ve got an extra parachute.”
“Hey, I’m talking giraffes and you’re talking broken bones.”
“Just come up in the plane. Do you good to get your feet off the ground for once.”
And to my alarm, I said I would.
10
T RISH DIDN’T COME BY FOR LUNCH and she didn’t call either. Neither of which worried me all that much. I tried calling her twice in the afternoon, but there no answer both times. That worried me a little more.
I kept my fears to myself, however, and put my energy into attempting to bring a bit of peace and harmony into the workplace. I went into the darkroom and got Carole talking about her frozen pipes and unplowed street, until she too began to unthaw a little. I asked if she’d like to have dinner with me and June at my house Sunday night. At first she seemed distant and glum, but by the end of the conversation she was more her old self and thanked me profusely for inviting her.
“I’m sorry I was so out of it this morning, Pam,” she said, sighing and twisting her long curl between her fingers. “It was Suz, you know, that woman I met at the New Year’s party, the one with the cute little tattoo, you know, the anchor? Well, I spent the night with her last night and you know what she did, she brought out a pair of handcuffs. If I hadn’t had my blow torch I don’t know what I would have done.”
For such an innocuous, optimistic person, Carole certainly managed to get herself in some strange situations. But it didn’t occur to me to ask her what she was doing with a blow torch at her lover’s house. Knowing Carole she probably just forgot she was carrying it.
I went back to the press room and asked June about dinner too. She rolled her eyes and said, “Let’s not carry this collective friendliness too far.”
“Oh, come on, June, it won’t kill you. Carole’s not that bad. I think she’s funny.”
“Yeah and so is Lucille Ball. For about two minutes.”
“But she means well—she’s just a little…”
“Cuckoo.” June sighed, “Yeah, all right. You want me to bring something?”
“Just yourself. I’ll make something good.” It would be my big chance to move into the Main Entries section of my cookbook.
Mission accomplished, I turned to my work in the front office, trying to understand
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