by Alicia Ryan
She nodded. “Third one on the left.”
The trailer looked to be an older model, but well-maintained with a large, neatly trimmed lawn and window boxes blooming with color. They did a lot for its outward appearance.
“It’s very nice.”
She sighed. “It’s good enough. I always wanted a deck, though. Do you remember the house we had in Tennessee?” She looked over at him. “With the big front porch? I’ve always missed that. Maybe now I can save up to get one.”
“With Red gone, you’ll be able to do lots of new things. You won’t be afraid will you? Of doing things on your own?”
She shook her head. “I’m a grown woman now, not a maladjusted girl. I’ll be fine.”
Tuesday escorted her inside and wrapped her in a long hug. “Thank you, Mary.”
“I don’t really understand what you’re thanking me for.”
“For giving me my dance, and…well, for still being the sweet Mary I remember.”
Her eyes glistened as she looked up at him. “You’re so beautiful. I always thought so, you know.
Tuesday almost choked.
She smiled. “It’s true, I did.” Then her face fell. “I won’t see you again will I, Herman?”
“Probably not.”
She closed her eyes, and inspiration struck him. Bringing out his wings, but keeping them closed, he reached behind him and plucked out a long, black feather. There was no pain, and the feather was easily two feet in length, black except for a sharp silver tip.
“A souvenir?” he asked. “To remember me?”
“I’ve always remembered you,” she said, “and I always will.”
She took the feather from his hand, running her fingers along its length. “So soft.”
She stood on her tiptoes and gave him a gentle kiss. “Goodbye, my sweet Herman.”
He hugged her again. “Goodbye, Mary. Be well.”
When the door closed behind him, he said a prayer for her safety, not knowing, of course, if it would do any good.
Chapter Eleven
For once, Herman got to the mailroom before Oscar. Ernie was in his usual place, back to the door.
“Good morning, Ernest.”
He grunted just as Oscar came barreling in. “Man,” he said. “You won’t believe it. I ran into Mary Chavez in the parking lot.” He cocked his head. “Though come to think of it, I believe her mail slot now has her maiden name on it – Johnston or Johnson or something.”
“What do you mean you ran into her?” Herman asked. “Is she hurt?”
“What? No, of course she isn’t hurt. I didn’t run the girl down. What the hell’s the matter with you? I saw her getting out of her car in the parking lot. She was smiling and waving and wearing this…” he made an hourglass figure with his hands “…dress. I mean, man, not having that asshole around really seems to agree with her.”
Herman smiled and let out a breath.
“We may have to add her to our list, Ernie.”
“What list?”
Ernie chuckled. “Our office hottie list.”
“You guys are disgusting.”
Oscar made an oinking sound. “The ladies love a little pig in their man.”
“Is that right?” Herman drawled. “And just when was the last time either of you two had a date?”
Ernie resumed staring at his stack of envelopes, while Oscar shuffled his feet.
“I’m serious. It’s bad enough with these posters, but you have to treat the women here with more respect. It’s disgraceful. Do you think any of them get up in the morning and get ready with either of you two losers in mind? No. They come in to do a job, just like we do, and most of them are smarter than the both of you put together.”
“Wow – what’s got you so hot and bothered?” Oscar narrowed his gaze. “You got a thing for Mary?”
“No, I don’t ‘got a thing’ for Mary. I’m happy for her that she’s finally able to live the way she wants to. Why should her being happy make her the butt of your jokes? She just got rid of one asshole – now she’s got two more?”
“Herman, you haven’t said that many words at one stretch since you started here. Where do you get off telling us what we can’t say in our own mailroom?”
“Maybe he’s right, Oscar.”
They both turned to stare at Ernie, who had actually turned around.
“Ernie?”
“No, think about it. Aren’t we doing wrong by her? Herman’s got a point. She’s been through a lot. Maybe we should give it a rest for a while.”
“So she doesn’t go on the list?”
Ernie shook his head and turned back around. “Throw out the list.”
Oscar gaped at his friend, and Herman suspected he wore the same stunned expression himself.
“Both of you are bailing on me?”
“Looks that way,” Herman replied.
Oscar sighed, slumping his shoulders under his orange shirt. “Fine. I’ll throw out the list.” He looked at Herman. “And I won’t make any more rude comments about Mary. But that’s all I’m promising.”
***
Herman saw Mary later in the day but only from a distance. She was smiling, and he hoped she’d carry that with her for a long time to come.
He was careful to only deliver her mail when she wasn’t at her desk. Though he’d changed his eye color, she might still recognize him if she thought too much about his name.
Just as he was finishing his morning rounds, he felt the cell phone in his pocket start to vibrate.
“Hello?”
“Hey. It’s Tricia.”
“What? Hang on. I’m in the freight elevator.”
When he stepped into the basement hallway he started again. “Tricia?”
“Yeah. Listen. I want you to come up here tonight at quitting time and hit on me, okay?”
“What? Why am I hitting on you?”
“To make Lucian jealous, of course. So come as Tuesday, not Herman, but be your usual gentlemanly self.”
“Alright, Price. I hope you know what you’re doing.”
“Today, it’s Tricia. Remember that and don’t be late.”
***
As requested, Tuesday strolled up to Tricia’s cube just after he clocked out downstairs as Herman. He noted through the glass panel that Lucian was still in his office.
“Hi, there,” he said, leaning one arm over the edge of Tricia’s cube to start his act.
Tricia smiled up at him, and Tuesday couldn’t help smiling back. Those big, dark eyes, pouty lips and all that soft blonde hair - it would be all too easy to forget - if Price could keep in character and not shoot his mouth off.
“You told me you got off at five,” he said.
“And you thought that was an invitation to what? Come pick me up?” Tricia queried.
“I’d be happy to give you a ride.” He winked at her.
“I don’t think I know you that well…uh – what was your name again? Buying me a drink doesn’t mean I’m going to go out with you.”
“I’m Tuesday, and how about if I just ask you now to go out with me, and you say yes?”
“Well?” She stood and put her hands on her hips.
Tuesday tried to stop his eyes from drifting to her cleavage.
“Are you going to ask me?”
“Oh. Right. Tricia, will you have dinner with me?”
“No.”
Tuesday blinked. “Give me your number then. So I can call to see if you’ve changed your mind.”
“Tricia, is this guy bothering you?” Lucian asked, storming out of his office, his round face glistening and pinker than usual.
“Well,” she hesitated, “not that I can’t take care of myself, but yes, he is bothering me.”
Lucian turned to Tuesday. “Can you see yourself out, boy, or do I need to call security? Or maybe the police. How’d you get in here anyway? I know you don’t work here.”
Tuesday held up his hands and backed away. “No need for that. I’m going.” He smirke
d. “Can’t blame a guy for trying.”
“Out!”
“Going.” Tuesday walked around the block of cubicles and through the swinging doors to the elevator bank.
Making a quick switch in appearance, he ducked back through the doors as Herman. There were still one or two diligent employees at their desks, but none near Tricia’s cube. He snuck into the one diagonally opposite hers and leaned on the desk, holding up the digital recorder he’d picked up last night.
“Anyway, like I said, I’m really sorry about him showing up here, Lucian. I know it doesn’t seem professional, but believe me, I had no idea that just mentioning where I worked would make him think it was an invitation to show up. I didn’t even give him my number.”
“Don’t worry, honey. But you can’t trust guys like that. The good looking ones – they’ll never treat you right. He was already taking your feelings for granted.”
She gave a soft laugh. “Oh, believe me, if I agreed to go out with him, he wouldn’t take me for granted.” Her voice had become coy.
“Maybe you’re right. A girl like you must have men eating out of your hand.”
Tricia sighed. “It’s true, you know, but it’s not what I want.”
“What…um…what do you want?”
Herman grimaced when he heard Lucian move further into the cube.
“What every girl wants, I suppose – a guy who’s got more than just…potential, a man who’s made something of himself. I mean, pretty-faced, unemployed losers are a dime a dozen.”
She sighed. “I don’t know why I even date. I hate all the men brave enough to ask me out, but the ones I might like don’t have the nerve to come up to me. And I think I deserve a man with at least a little nerve.”
She moved closer to Lucian. “Good looks can be a curse, you know. Sometimes I wish I didn’t have them.”
“God, don’t say that. You’re a beautiful girl – inside and out.”
Tricia giggled. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that. I do like my men to be a little…dangerous. Powerful and dangerous. So maybe I’m not quite so good on the inside, Lucian.”
“Um…”
Herman couldn’t see, but he imagined Tricia playing with Lucian’s tie or something equally flirtatious.
“Have you done anything dangerous, Mr. Phipps?”
There was a pause.
“Lucian,” she prodded, “you know I won’t tell anyone. I just…I just want to know if the kind of man I want is even out there. You run your own company, and some of the employees are a little frightened of you, but have you ever done anything truly…over the line?”
Her voice had dropped, and Herman hoped the recorder could still pick it up.
“I see the way you look at me, Lucian, but I want a man with real balls, guts, you know – not just bluster. Are you that man, Lucian? Are you more than just hot air in a corner office?”
She sounded breathless, and Herman was sure Lucian was squirming and checking out her neckline.
“I like a man with big hands, baby, but I don’t hear an answer.”
Herman made a face when he realized Lucian was touching her.
“I used to drag race,” he said, “back when I was a kid.”
Herman heard Tricia stepped back. “Afraid I’m not interested in kid stuff, Lucian.”
She began shuffling some sort of papers on her desk. “Look, I really need to get going-“
“I’m stealing,” Lucian blurted, cutting her off.
Tricia dropped her bag back on the desk. “What was that, big guy?”
“I said…I’m stealing. From the company.”
“Why you devil!”
She did something then that made Lucian moan, and Herman tried not to think what it might be.
“Lucian, I thought you might have it in you. I mean, I’ve been watching you and…well, hoping.”
Herman heard the soft swooshing sound of hands on fabric.
“I can’t tell you how much that turns me on, Lucian. It’s like a match to a candle. But,” she said, cutting off the caressing noise, “how on earth do you manage it? I know your nephew does the books, but lord, he doesn’t seem the type.”
Lucian laughed, sounding short of breath. “That pansy. No, he’s not involved. Mike and I got the vendors to back us up by threatening to take our business elsewhere. Business is bad, so most of them agreed to play ball. As long as they verify our rebate numbers, Charlie can’t tell a thing. He certainly can’t prove anything.”
“Not that I didn’t admire you before, baby, but I think you’re smarter even than I gave you credit for. I like that.”
Herman heard soft kissing and thought he might gag. He tried hard not to give himself away.
“I know it’s probably against the rules, but if you were to ask me out, Lucian, I wouldn’t say no.” Herman could hear her smile in her voice. “You aren’t really a guy for rules anyway, are you?”
“No, no I’m not. Uh…so…will you have dinner with me tonight?”
“Tonight?” She giggled. “I can’t tonight, silly. But I’m free tomorrow.”
“You have other plans tonight?”
Another giggle. “Just my mother, but I can’t stand her up. She’s very scary. Don’t worry – I won’t make you meet her anytime soon. Besides, waiting until tomorrow will give me time to pick up something special to wear. Would you like that? Maybe several special somethings? I want you to like what you see, baby.”
Lucian gulped, but his words still came out as sort of a gurgle. “I’m sure I will. Tomorrow. Give me your address, and I’ll pick you up from home – around seven?”
A pencil began scribbling on paper.
“You won’t change your mind, will you?” Tricia asked.
Herman had to bite his lip not to laugh.
“Are you kidding? I mean…no, of course not. I’m a man of my word.”
Tricia laughed and adopted a fake whisper. “Except when you’re not.” She giggled. “Yes, I like you. I knew I would.”
More fumbling with something.
“I’m sorry, baby, but I have to go. Mommie dearest awaits. But tomorrow will be a whole new day, okay?”
“Whatever you say, doll.” Lucian’s voice was tinged with barely concealed enthusiasm.
“You won’t regret it, Lucian. I promise.”
Tricia headed for the door, but it was almost a minute before Lucian moved.
“Hot damn,” he muttered, finally recovering from the shock.
When he was out of Tricia’s cube, Herman sunk to the floor and turned off the recorder. Keeping to a crouch, he made his way back to the elevators.
Out at the car, Price was waiting for him.
“You’re riding home with me?” Tuesday asked. He’d already dumped the Herman persona.
“Yeah. I want to listen to the tape. If it’s not clear, I might really have to go out with that blubbery bastard.”
Tuesday laughed and tossed Price the recorder. “You do know everything is digital these days, right? There’s no actual tape. You just press play.”
“Just drive the car and don’t be such a smart ass.”
They both got in.
“That was a brilliant performance, by the way. You really know how to make the most of Tricia and her…assets.”
Price laughed. “I know. It’s so fun being her sometimes. I see why women think we’re all pigs. They can lead us around by the nose just by showing a little skin.”
“I wouldn’t say always,” Tuesday defended. “Even Tricia’s not that good. There are some decent guys out there.”
“Wanna bet?” Price wiggled his eyebrows at him.
Tuesday gripped the wheel, directing them out of the parking lot. “Just play the tape.”
The recording was perfect.
“Should we just swing by Charlie’s and give it to him? I’m sure he’ll know what to do now that we have proof.”
“Let’s not be too hasty,” Price said. “It might be fun to make Lucian squirm
a bit, siphon off some of his ill-gotten gains.”
Tuesday felt his jaw drop. “You want to hold out on Charlie so you can blackmail Lucian for pocket money?”
“Hey – no corporate credit card here. A little real pocket money can come in handy in this business.”
“No, we’re going to Charlie’s.”
“No, we’re not. It won’t hurt to wait a few days.”
“You’re serious.”
“Of course, I’m serious. Bad angel, remember?”
“We’re going to Charlie’s and that’s final.” He looked over at Price. “I’m pretty sure I could take that from you, but how about I just spring for the drinks? You know damn well you don’t need the money anyway. And if you’re really strapped for cash, we’ll stop at an ATM and use my card.”
“You’re not one bit of fun, you know that?”
Tuesday laughed. “Whatever. We’re almost done. Let’s go to Charlie’s, and then you can direct me to the nearest bar. I need a drink to get the image of you kissing Lucian out of my head.”
Price shuddered. “You? I had to do the actual kissing – and be convincing. Don’t tell me I didn’t miss my calling. I should have been a soap star.”
“Way to aim high, Price.”
“What? I like my soaps.”
“Is that what you do all day when you’re not working? I had wondered.”
“Wonder no more, my friend.”
Tuesday shook his head all the way to Charlie’s house where Charlie answered the door with a paper napkin still tucked into his shirt collar.
“Charlie, CEO’s of companies don’t stuff greasy paper napkins into their shirts.” Price sniffed. “And what is that? A TV dinner?” He looked back at Tuesday. “Okay, I know what I should say here, but I fuckin’ love those things.” His attention snapped back to Charlie. “You don’t happen to have a fried chicken one do you?”
“Uh…probably.” He waved them in. “Wait a minute did you say CEO?”
Price already had his head stuck in the freezer.
“Give me the recorder, Price. Charlie needs to hear this. You can wait two seconds.”
“Nope,” Price called out, emerging from the freezer with a red box in his hand. “But I found it, so here.” He pulled the recorder from his pocket and tossed it to Tuesday. “You can fill him in. I’ve got to get this into the oven.”