Close to Home

by Rachel Spangler

  Her face flamed and she went back to counting nicks in the coffee table before she finally managed to squeak out. “What kind is this?”

  “Dark,” Elliot said coolly. “Seems warranted after the day we had.”

  She sighed, curling her fingers fully around the mug and taking another strong pull. “You have no idea.”

  “I really don’t. I sort of hoped you’d fill me in though.”

  She set her mug down and folded her hands in her lap so Elliot couldn’t see them shake, but she immediately missed the warmth and comfort offered by the coffee. How should she even start? What did she really want to give away? Nothing, actually, but she had to tell her something. Or not. She could just make an excuse and leave. She didn’t have to reveal any more weakness than she already had.

  “Sometimes it’s easier to talk to a stranger,” Elliot said softly. “I don’t know you. I have no investment in who you’ve been before now, or even in who you’ll be four months from now after I graduate and leave. That’s one of the things I really liked about coming to college here. I got a clean slate with no strings attached.”

  Kelly nodded slowly. She hadn’t considered the relative anonymity angle before. Everyone she knew, she’d known all her life. She didn’t meet many new people around Darlington, and even if she did, they would likely be inserting themselves into town life soon enough and would no doubt hear the whole story eventually. The only place where local lines didn’t usually cross was at the college. Bramble College existed largely as a separate entity on the edge of town, like some foreign outpost of people who barely spoke the local language. Students rarely ventured beyond a row of bars that catered to them, and even most of the professors kept to themselves in tight cliques. With the exception of sporting events, locals and college folks rarely interacted.

  There was something freeing in the realization that Elliot wouldn’t have anyone to tell about her boss’s meltdown today. Well, except for Beth, but Beth already knew she was here. Beth knew more about her than anyone else ever would. Elliot couldn’t possibly tell Beth anything new.

  She met Elliott’s sea-glass green eyes and said, “My dad had a stroke.”

  “Today?”

  “No, a week ago, or maybe a week and a half. The days are all starting to blur together. He’s still in the hospital.”

  “And that’s where you went today?”

  “Yes, they called because he had a seizure. They needed me to approve a new treatment option. He should be getting better, but he’s not. He may actually be getting worse.”

  She’d thought admitting that might feel like a betrayal, as though she didn’t believe in him enough to think he could beat everything that plagued him, but once the words fell out, she felt only relief. The weight pushing down on her chest and shoulders lessened significantly as she continued. “No one has answers. No one can tell me what he needs, or even why he’s not responding to the treatments, not even the specialists from St. Louis. They keep giving me these vague platitudes about the brain being complex and time being a key element.”

  “Sounds terrifying,” Elliot said sympathetically, “and exhausting and maddening.”

  “Yes. All of that.”

  “I see why you’d be on edge. And I guess the business was his business first?”

  “He built it. He taught me from the time I was old enough to add and subtract. This is the first tax season without him.” Funny— in all of this, she’d never said that out loud. Everyone she spoke to knew their past, knew their present, knew what his absence meant, and yet she hadn’t gotten the time or the chance to fully comprehend those things herself. At thirty-two years old, she’d never done her job without her dad.

  “Tax season is stressful enough, right? And now you have all of these changes, and forgive me if I’m off base here,” Elliot said, her grin returning, “but you don’t seem like the kind of person who really thrives on change.”

  She snorted softly. “Not really.”

  “And now, not only is your dad not there, I came into the office and reminded you about everything you can’t control. I bet every time you looked at me, you remembered that he wasn’t there.”

  “No. I mean, maybe. But I don’t need any help. I didn’t even want an intern.”

  Elliot blinked at her, startled. “Then, why did you … Beth?”

  Kelly nodded, her chest tight again at the sound of her name leaving Elliot’s lips so casually.

  “So Beth convinced you to let me come help, but you didn’t want any help because you’re trying to go it alone and you’re already stressed out enough …” She blew out a frustrated breath of air. “I was screwed before I even walked in. I could’ve been your fairy godmother, an Olympic level CPA, and straight as an arrow, and none of it would have mattered.”

  She didn’t like that conclusion. She didn’t like being painted as unreasonable. She didn’t like being backed into a corner. She didn’t like being pegged so perfectly, so quickly, especially since she’d yet to get a clear sense of Elliot’s personality. On one hand she seemed arrogant and aggressive. Her temper flared easily, and she’d jumped to wild conclusions earlier in the day. And yet, now she appeared calm and perceptive, even in her criticism. Kelly wasn’t sure she would’ve been quite so open to listening if their roles had been reversed, and while she wouldn’t admit it to anyone else, she didn’t like being out-graced by a hothead lesbian intern. Oh yeah, the lesbian thing had gotten her labeled a homophobe. Her stomach tightened again. She couldn’t get so comfortable around Elliot that she made the big mistake. “I didn’t even think about you being gay. It wasn’t a factor.”

  Elliot arched an eyebrow.

  “I mean it. I don’t go around thinking about people’s sex lives.”

  “Being gay is about so much more than sex.”

  “Fine.” She waved her hand quickly. She couldn’t go there, for so many reasons. “I don’t care unless it affects business, and I don’t see any reason why it needs to.”

  Elliot scowled, her lips pursed together, and Kelly fought the urge to say more, to soften her words, to seek some sort of understanding without actually communicating anything more, but she couldn’t. This wasn’t a new conflict, and she wouldn’t make new mistakes.

  “So where do we go from here?” Elliot finally asked.

  “Back to work.” She rose and took a couple more hard, hot swallows of coffee. “If you want to come back. You understand the situation now. It’s up to you.”

  Elliot stood and walked with her to the door, her expression pensive. “I’ll be there tomorrow.”

  Kelly respected her concise, uncomplicated, and unemotional answer, but she did wonder what Elliot left unsaid. What thoughts made her smooth brow wrinkle as she held open the door? What argument died on her lips? Nothing outside work really mattered, but just because it didn’t matter didn’t mean part of her didn’t want to know more.

  Elliot stood back from the ancient coffee machine as if it might explode at any moment. She was relatively certain she’d done everything right, but the gurgles and hisses emanating from the contraption sounded more like death throes than the happy bubbling she got from her Cuisinart DC-122 at home.

  “Shhh,” she warned the machine. Kelly was in her private office with a client, and she wanted to surprise her. At least that’s what she told herself. If she were being completely honest, she also didn’t want to set her off before she managed to get her fully caffeinated, and since she hadn’t been granted explicit permission to touch the coffeemaker, she worried she might have crossed another invisible line.

  The peace had been tentative so far, as her arrival was met with polite disinterest and her instructions largely mirrored the day before. She’d spent the first twenty minutes snuggled up next to her friend, the document scanner. Kelly had said, “Good morning,” and “you can scan those files,” both without a hint of disdain or even annoyance, but she could hardly consider those few words a large enough sample size to make any decision
s about her mood.

  Should she mention their talk the night before, or maybe ask about her dad? It seemed rude not to bring him up after what she’d learned about his condition. And yet, knowing how the subject affected Kelly, maybe it would be more merciful to stick to neutral topics. She had been pondering this since the moment she walked in the door, but before she had made up her mind on a course of action, a young man in jeans and a heavy flannel jacket had come in, and the two of them had been in a meeting in Kelly’s private office ever since.

  She’d finished scanning the stack of documents Kelly had given her, and she certainly wasn’t about to interrupt her meeting with a client, so she was at a loss. Hence, the coffee-making. The fact that she’d stashed a few of her own freshly ground beans in her work bag before coming in that morning may have been a tip that she’d spent some time thinking of Kelly outside work hours, but only in an attempt to avoid a repeat of yesterday. Her motives were born from a mixture of self-preservation and caffeine addiction, nothing more.

  Suddenly with a sputter and a spit, the coffee streamed through the ancient office relic and ran happily into the pot below. She lifted her fist in silent victory. Now whatever else the day brought, at least they would both get to face it with coffee. The thought bolstered her so much she wandered back over to the computer next to the scanner. She clicked through a few screens of the things she’d scanned, checking for the third time to make sure everything was in order. She understood this process. She understood the next step, too. She could input the information from the documents she’d scanned into the Pro Series DMS. The payroll service she worked for in Chicago had a tax prep department that used the same programs, and all the files she’d worked with so far were straightforward and well-organized.

  She opened the tax software, waiting patiently for it to load. She found a client’s name and clicked to open the file. Elliot verified that the name, address, and phone number hadn’t changed over the last year, then clicked on the W-2 screen and started inputting information from the documents she’d already scanned. Kelly had admitted the inputting work she’d toyed around with yesterday was spot-on. Why not push a little further down the same line? She plugged in a few more numbers— medical expenses, real estate taxes, and charitable contributions. Her fingers took over the keyboard, and before she knew it, she’d filled out two full returns.

  She stretched and looked at her watch, then blinked. Crap, she’d lost track of time. The door to Kelly’s office swung open, and she walked out with the young man close behind her.

  “Thanks Kelly,” he said. “I know I’m kind of a mess. I didn’t think I’d be able to get this all put together without Mary’s help.”

  “We’ll get it all worked out, John. Don’t worry.”

  “I appreciate it. I know you have enough going on right now.”

  Elliot glanced up to see Kelly’s tight smile. “Working keeps my mind off of things.”

  “Yeah, I know,” he said, his own smile grim. “About that, um if you ever need anything, a hand around the house, or a meal or someone to talk to, I’d be happy to buy you dinner sometime. I mean to thank you for everything you’re doing.”

  Elliot quickly turned back toward her computer screen. Thank you dinner, my ass. This guy just asked Kelly out. So much for sexuality not interfering with work. She and farmer dude spend over an hour quietly ensconced in her office and leave with plans for a date.

  “I’d like that,” Kelly said, “but probably won’t have time until after tax season.”

  “Of course,” he said seriously, than laughed a little. “I’m sure we’ll see each other again before that.”

  “Probably,” Kelly said kindly. “Stay warm out there.”

  Well, she hadn’t accepted the date exactly, but she hadn’t turned him down either. What did that mean? Why did she care? She typed quickly, trying to act natural, as though she hadn’t eavesdropped.

  “What are you doing?” Kelly asked.

  “Working.” Elliot said, keeping her head down.

  “Scanning?”

  Her shoulders tensed, but she tried to continue in a normal tone. “I finished the scanning. Now I’m inputting the data.”

  She heard Kelly shifting around close behind her, and then felt her body heat as she leaned over her shoulder. The warmth of her there was disconcerting on multiple levels, some she didn’t care to examine too closely.

  “Scroll up,” Kelly said in a firm but even voice.

  She complied wordlessly, feeling every bit like a cadet under inspection. Would Kelly launch a grenade if she found her work lacking? No, her work was flawless. She had too much at stake.

  Finally Kelly stood and backed away. “All right. You can take over the inputting on the simple returns, just make sure you flag the ones you do for my review before we finalize and process them.”

  She raised her eyebrows at the computer screen. It wasn’t exactly a compliment, but the increased responsibility surely implied approval, right? She tried not to turn around until she’d gotten her grin back to neutral. “I also made coffee.”

  “Is that what I smell?” Kelly asked, and took an audible inhale. “I thought maybe you just brought some with you, for yourself.”

  “No. I mean I did bring the beans from home, but to share. I thought we might need to stay fully caffeinated this tax season. Plus, it’s a good smell for the office, right?”

  “Are you implying my office smelled bad before?”

  “No,” she answered quickly. “It smelled like an office, like paper and copy toner. Totally normal.”

  “But coffee is better?”

  “Well … yeah.”

  Kelly nodded thoughtfully. “Okay, you’re in charge of coffee every day, too.”

  She didn’t know if she should be thrilled to have done something else correctly, or to be offended that being designated the office coffee monkey felt like such a reward. “So I scan, I input, I make coffee. Got it. Anything else?”

  Kelly looked around the office, slowly turning in a circle before lifting her arms and letting them fall back to her sides. “I’ve never had to make these decisions before.”

  The plaintive note in her voice made all of Elliot’s frustration dissipate. “I guess we can just figure it out as we go along.”

  “That’s not how I usually operate. The wait and see approach isn’t generally my style.”

  “No, I wouldn’t have guessed it is.”

  Kelly regarded her more seriously now, her intensely dark eyes traveling deliberately up the length of her; this time the inspection felt less formal, but no less nerve-wracking. Elliot squared her shoulders and lifted her chin, refusing to turn away from the implicit challenge.

  Suddenly Kelly shook her head and sidestepped to the coffee-maker. “We never officially discussed your hours. I should’ve paid better attention, but Beth blindsided me. I’m not sure she ever said how much you should work.”

  The abrupt change of subjects, or more importantly, tone, caught Elliot by surprise. One minute Kelly had felt so close, her eyes intense and clear, then in an instant the distance between them felt so much more than the few feet of physical divide. Everything from her body language to her tone shifted drastically into a detached business mode.

  “Well, I’ve already filled my hours of professional service for licensure with my previous work in the field.” That wasn’t exactly what Kelly asked, but she wanted to make sure she made it clear she wasn’t the average intern. “So, for my course credit, I need twenty hours a week for sixteen weeks, but I talked to my advisor, and she said it doesn’t matter how we spread out the workload, so long as I get 320 hours.”

  “So if we crunch that down to the nine weeks left in tax season, you’d be here thirty-five and a half hours a week.”

  Elliot tapped her temple. “You did the math in your head. Have you ever considered a career working with numbers?”

  Kelly didn’t laugh or even smile as she poured coffee into a mug with the local
high school’s initials on the side in red, white, and blue. Okay, maybe the joke hadn’t been a side-splitter, but not even a grin or a good-natured eye-roll? Tough crowd. She transitioned back into business. “We could overlap hours all the time if you want to keep an eye on me, or since I know you’ve got other stuff on your plate, I could stagger my hours with yours to make sure we have coverage.”

  Kelly nodded thoughtfully. “I’m not sure what my schedule will be. I generally work even on nights and weekends. I’m not sure that’s allowed for you.”

  “Everything’s allowed for me. I mean, barring any law-breaking. I can work nights and Saturdays. I can open for you when you’re at the hospital. I can man the front desk, the phone, or the scanner.” She didn’t know why she was volunteering so damn much, but the words kept pouring out of her mouth before she thought them through. She felt like she had to prove her worth to Kelly, though she didn’t care to examine why her opinion mattered quite so much. “If I go over my 35.5 hours a week, I won’t tell on you. No one would have to know.”

  “I would know,” Kelly snapped for the first time that morning, a hint of fire returning to her eyes. “Just because you can get away with something doesn’t make it right.”

  “Fair enough,” Elliot responded evenly, “but I’m just as new as you are to this whole intern thing. I’ve been an employee and I’ve been a volunteer, but I’ve always heard interns sort of get abused in the name of experience.”

  “There are laws against that now.”

  She smiled broadly in spite of the tension still radiating from Kelly. “There are, but most people don’t know that.”

  “Ignorance of the law is no excuse for breaking the law,” she said in a clipped tone that made it clear the subject matter was closed. “Just keep a log of your hours, and I’ll sign it at the end of each week.”

  “Okay.”

  “And tell me if you don’t understand something, or if you don’t feel comfortable with something. You’re in my family business. The buck stops with me.”