Chasing Charlie

by C. M. Newman

CHAPTER FIFTEEN: GOING AWAY

  Strained didn’t even begin to describe the workplace interactions between Vince and Angela the rest of Monday and the first half of Tuesday in the office. Humiliated and feeling responsible for causing the tension in the first place, Angela steered clear of Vince whenever possible, but she couldn’t ignore his simple greetings as he passed by her desk from time to time, or ignore his summons when he sought her opinion about a detail regarding a case they had worked a few weeks ago.

  When they did speak or cross paths, it was clear to Vince that Angela was embarrassed. The way she couldn’t maintain eye contact with him for more than a second or two, the loss of volume in her voice, the way she hugged her waist, her posture—all of it pointed to the fact that he had hurt her.

  Around two on Tuesday, Harry called, much to Vince’s relief. “We’ll be back to the office in about an hour,” Harry said.

  “Good. I trust you’ll debrief me when you get back?”

  “Sure thing. How was it at the office yesterday?”

  “Same old, same old.”

  “Sounds like a ball. Do me a favor and tell Sophie to go home and sleep. I don’t think she’s done so in the past twenty-four hours.”

  “If you guys needed extra help, why didn’t you say something?” Vince asked. “I kept offering.”

  “Because records are Sophie’s thing and you know how she gets when people get in her business. So just…order her to vacate the premises. She wouldn’t listen to me.”

  “All right. I’ll see you soon.” Vince hung up, nodding almost undetectably at Angela as he walked past her desk. Her lips twitched ever so slightly in some sort of halfhearted smile and she immediately got back to her work.

  “Afternoon, sir,” Sophie said with puffy eyes but a chipper as ever voice when she opened the records room door for Vince. She had just finished cleaning up the mess she’d made with files over the weekend. Her normally perfectly coiffed black hair was lopsided and frizzy. A dozen energy drink cans littered the tables.

  “Harry said you did a great job on the case and that you haven’t slept in a day. I appreciate it, and so does the team, but you need to go home and get some rest now.”

  Sophie shook her head violently. “No way, uh-uh. I mean… excuse me.” She cleared her throat. “I’m sorry, sir, but I really am fine. I don’t think it’s necessary that I go home. Today’s your last day and I really want to stay.”

  Vince couldn’t help but smile a little at his most sensitive team member. “Do you promise to leave when I do today and take the day off tomorrow?”

  “Consider it my going away gift to you,” Sophie said. “Well, I got you a real one, too, actually, it’s from all of us, but…you know. Whatever you say. Sure, I’m out of here at five o’clock and not back until Thursday morning.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Can I ask you something, really quick?” Sophie said.

  “Sure.” Vince sensed that Sophie’s question might be personal in nature so he shut the door and leaned against it, crossing his arms.

  “Do you know what’s wrong with Angela? Is she just…having a hard time with this whole thing? With you? She’s not herself at all. Even more so than any of us. Even more so than me, and I’m the one who has the hardest time with all the death we see. This is Angela. She’s tough, you know? Normally, but not now. Is she okay? She won’t talk to me about it.”

  “Everyone’s handling it a little differently,” was all Vince could think to say. “I think it’ll be easier for everyone once I’m gone from the office, to be honest. Out of sight, out of mind.”

  Sophie frowned, shaking her head so hard that a bobby pin fell out of place. “Never out of mind, sir. Never.”

  When Vince passed by Angela’s desk again, it took all he had in him not to let her know that Sophie knew something was wrong. He wanted to tell her that she needed to control her emotions a little better, that she couldn’t keep up the distant demeanor, that her behavior was far too telling. “Harry just called. He and Marshall will be back in an hour,” he said simply, not missing a step, hoping that his statement would be enough to get her to put on a happy face for the rest of the day. All he wanted was a few hours of a tension-free environment, but since it was obvious he wasn’t going to get that, he decided he would have to settle with Angela pretending the kiss and the resultant conversation had never happened.

  —

  Angela reminded herself for the next hour that she could hide her feelings better than this. It was only when she chose to be dramatic that she was. She realized she had been staring at the same piece of paper for ages and decided to walk into Vince’s office and apologize. As she rose from her chair, however, Marshall and Harry came through the glass doors and into the bullpen. Harry carried a white box containing what Angela could only assume to be a cake.

  “Hey there,” Harry said to Angela with a smile. The men continued to the conference room, but Marshall stopped at his desk to drop off his bag.

  “Hey. Case went all right?” Angela asked.

  “I constantly remind myself they could always be worse,” Marshall said darkly, shrugging his shoulders. “We got the job done. That’s what matters. How’re things going here? Is Vince doin’ all right?” he asked with an obvious glance up toward their boss’ office.

  “I think he’s doing okay,” Angela returned, figuring that was an appropriate response. “Did you guys seriously get cake?”

  Marshall rolled his eyes. “Fitz thinks it wouldn’t be right to send Vince off without some sort of goodbye. I think it’s tacky, but he promised to keep it all going away related. He said, and I quote, ‘It’s not a cancer cake.’”

  Vince came out of his office just then, having seen Harry pass by. He caught a glimpse of Marshall and Angela and returned Marshall’s short nod, but when he saw the wounded look on Angela’s face, his smile faltered and he went on his way.

  Angela knew with certainty that Vince had taken her sad eyes to mean the same thing they had for the past day. He thought she was still angry with him. It tore her apart that she hadn’t gathered the sense and the nerve to apologize before she lost a chance to get a moment alone with him. Now he would spend the rest of his last day still at odds with his partner.

  “What was that all about?” Marshall asked Angela once Vince was out of hearing distance.

  “What was what about?” she said vaguely.

  “The way he looked at you. Or didn’t, I guess. Did you guys have some sort argument?”

  “No,” Angela said convincingly enough. “He’s just been really tired, and I, uh, kept telling him to go home early. You know how he hates that kind of thing. And I don’t think he’ll take too well to being ambushed with cake. If I’d known, I would’ve warned him.”

  “He’s a good sport,” Marshall said. “Why don’t you go help set stuff up and I’ll go get Sophie?”

  Harry was already busy defending his choice on how to spend the afternoon when Angela got to the conference room.

  “Even if I were leaving under brighter circumstances, I wouldn’t want a cake,” Vince said playfully enough to one of his best friends.

  “Okay, now, don’t go making this about cancer,” Harry chided. “This is a going away party. Most people loathe these parties just as much as you do. So ignore the cancer part and just be a stick in the mud for all the normal reasons, okay?”

  “Can I give it to him?” Sophie asked as she walked into the room a moment later holding Vince’s gift wrapped in sparkly paper that only she would have bought.

  “Sure, you go right ahead and take the credit and the stink eye that comes along with Vince having to unwrap a present,” Angela said dully.

  If Vince were to accept a parting gift from anyone, it was probably Sophie. He grinned appreciatively as he carefully found the seam of the wrapping paper.

  “It’s from all of us, like I told you,” Sophie said. “Nothing flashy, because we know you hate flashy. Actually, there was a flash involved…
how punny…”

  Vince lifted an eyebrow and opened the paper neatly, almost as if he wanted to rewrap the gift later. He opened the white box inside and pulled out an five-by-seven pewter frame holding a photograph of his team piled on top of his desk without him. Harry and Marshall sat at the edge of it, with Angela and Sophie sitting behind each one, respectively; all of them looked thrilled to be up to something so mischievous. He laughed as he showed it off. “When did you guys get away with this?”

  “A couple of weeks ago when you were out sick…Oh…” Sophie put her hands to her lips. “I just realized. I’m sorry…”

  “No need to apologize. It’s actually kind of funny that I was probably at a doctor’s appointment when you did this, considering that’s the reason I’m leaving. I…I love it. Thank you,” Vince said, looking around the room. “And thank you for not getting me something flashy.”

  “In all seriousness, Vince,” Harry said, taking command of the room, “I won’t let this turn into some sort of speech, and I won’t talk about the c-word, but just know that we love you and we’ll miss you.”

  No one was expecting Angela to speak, not even she. “And if you need anything, anything at all, don’t hesitate to ask,” she said, her pulse quickening at addressing him—although it was in front of everyone else, it still felt like she was delivering a very private message. She hoped that Vince found an apology, a peace offering, somewhere in there.

  “Absolutely, sir,” Sophie chimed in just as Vince’s eyes were centering on Angela’s. “I’ll be knocking on your door as often as I can. It’s your job to tell me when to go away.”

  “I appreciate that,” he said to Sophie, then eying everyone, “but things are fine right now. It’s just a matter of getting to treatments and being able to spend more time with Charlie. But I’m fine, really.”

  “Someone wanna go get Hanson and tell her there’s cake? And anyone else who’s around?” Harry said, trying to cut the tension.

  Marshall rose to do just that, while Harry presented Vince with a cake that read Congratulations, Vince.

  “That’s nice,” Vince said, stuffing his hands in his pockets and forcing another smile. “Thank you.”

  Harry suddenly sported a sour look. “There’s no way to give a respectful goodbye with frosting in a situation like this.”

  “What’s not respectful about ‘congratulations’? Just because I’m not leaving for the usual reasons doesn’t mean I’m not excited. I’ll get to see Charlie so much more now. And once summer hits and he’s out of school, it’s just going to be me and him.”

  Harry’s lips slanted. “You’ve never been a silver lining sorta guy.”

  “Well, I had to start sometime.”

  Other agents came in and out of the room over the course of the next couple of hours, most of them simply wishing Vince the best but not taking any cake. Not sure how many more condolences he could accept, Vince managed to sneak out and back to his office. He’d already spent part of the day packing his belongings into a few boxes, whose contents he now perused as if he might change his mind, as if he might unpack everything and stay.

  “Yeah,” he said vaguely when he heard knuckles rapping on his doorframe.

  “Hey,” Angela said cautiously. “Got a minute?”

  Vince turned halfway, offering up a friendly enough face. “Sure.”

  It was clear that Angela wished she could shut the door, but given the circumstances, it wouldn’t be out of place for people to drop by the office expecting to get in a farewell. Therefore, she instead spoke quietly and chose her words wisely, all while keeping half an eye outside the office so she would be forewarned of any visitors. “I want to apologize, Vince. Your last two days should have been relaxed, especially since you weren’t on a case, and I totally made it about me.”

  “You didn’t make it about you,” Vince said, turning all the way to sit against the edge of his desk. “Remember? You didn’t want to talk about it anymore, your reason being that talking probably wouldn’t change either one of our minds. And you were right. It wouldn’t have.”

  “Well, I didn’t need to be frigid. Marshall saw you look at me when they all got back and you walked out of your office, and his immediate thought was that you and I fought or something. I probably did a really crappy job convincing him he was wrong. I’m a much better actor than that. That’s how I made this about me. It was selfish of me not to try harder. And I’m just…I’m sorry.”

  “I’m not upset with you. The last couple of days haven’t been pleasant—you’re right in that. But that’s just as much my fault, maybe even more.”

  “No, Vince, don’t put this on yourself.”

  “Why not? I’m the one who put my foot down. I was the party pooper, I don’t know. Something like that.”

  “You were being smart, which, given how your world was turned upside down last week, is a feat. Look at all of us. We’re not the ones leaving and we were all crying in there.”

  “So was I. What’s your point?”

  Angela sighed and strode across the length of the room slowly, arms crossed over her chest. “That you’re still annoyingly pragmatic even though you’re in a situation where most people would be withdrawing all their savings and going to blow it all in Vegas. You’re thinking about the implications of everything you do, keeping everyone else in mind. I don’t think I’d be half as sane in your position.”

  “You may call it sane. Harry might call it being a fuddy-duddy, and that’s a direct quote,” Vince said with a genuine smile that made it that much harder for Angela to be in the same room with him and tell herself she couldn’t love him.

  “I think Fitz is exaggerating. But I think there’s some truth behind the fuddy-duddy thing. All he means is to let loose a little, indulge. You’re out of here in, what, an hour? An hour from now, take off that…stupid tie and don’t put another one back on. And laugh more.”

  “I laugh plenty,” Vince argued.

  “We all know you’re a different person around Charlie. I’m talking about when you’re around everyone else.”

  “I’ll try.”

  “Good.” Angela had succeeded thus far in being in the same room without reenacting their mistake in her mind, but once silence filled the office, her daydreams took over. “So this is what you did this morning?” she asked, gesturing toward the boxes in an effort to get the conversation going again and keep her mind in the proper place and time.

  “Well, not all morning. It didn’t take long.”

  Angela nodded slowly, furrowing her brow in thought. “We’re good, right?”

  “You and me?” Vince eyed Angela, finding it annoying how nice those three words sounded together as he waited for Angela to clarify with a nod. “Yeah. We’re good.”

  “Oh, I never asked, how did church go?”

  “It’ll be a work in progress,” was all Vince said for now.

  Angela had forgotten about guarding the door, so when Marshall came in trying to pass off more cake to whomever he found, both she and Vince jumped just enough for him to take notice. “Did I interrupt something?” he asked, holding two plates out to them.

  “No,” Vince said, shaking his head. He waved off the cake.

  “Hawkins?” Marshall asked.

  “No, thanks, already had two pieces,” she said, putting a hand over her stomach.

  “I should get back out there,” Vince said, cocking his head toward the hallway. He left, leaving Marshall and Angela alone in his office. Much more hurt showed in Angela’s eyes than she’d intended as she watched Vince walk away. She couldn’t decide if she believed that he really felt that they were fine; and even if he was being honest, did she necessarily feel the same way?

  “Seriously, what’s goin’ on?” Marshall asked, his eyebrows slanted severely in worry.

  Angela didn’t know how to respond to Marshall without incriminating her or Vince, so she went for the easiest thing she could think of. Even if it wasn’t the whole truth, it was the
truth. “One of my best friends is dying. What do you mean, ‘What’s going on?’” She tried not to get too testy with him, only giving her voice enough attitude to scare him away from questioning her further.

  “I’m just…you know what,” Marshall said, shrugging his shoulders. “I obviously walked in on an important conversation and I’m sorry,” he said without malice. “Want me to go get Vince?”

  Angela’s face grew red in anger with herself. “No, we were done talking. I’m sorry I snapped. I’m completely out of sorts right now.”

  “No worries,” Marshall said. The heat in Angela’s cheeks brought on a few tears that made her eyes shine and her chin crinkle. “Hey, hey…” Marshall set the cake down on Vince’s desk, shut the door and the blinds, and guided Angela over to the couch to sit with him. “Talk to me.”

  Angela leaned forward, her elbows digging into her bony knees. “What’s there to say? He’s dying,” she said, the words adding truth to the notion. It wasn’t really a romance lost that had her in tears again. It was the culmination of all of the events of the past week. She felt ashamed for how fragile she was, but had to remember how much she’d been holding back. “I just can’t wrap my head around the fact that he’ll be gone.” She felt Marshall’s hand grip her shoulder.

  “Do you wanna talk it out, or do you wanna be alone?” Marshall asked considerately.

  “I think I need a minute to myself,” Angela replied, knowing exactly how toxic that could turn out to be.

  “Sure.” Marshall left the office, shutting the door on his way out.

  Angela’s guilt over the way she’d treated Vince was overrun by thoughts of finality, of permanence. Several years ago, she had sat in this very office interviewing for the job she now had. Now, the room would serve as a reminder of everyone’s loss whenever they walked by, even if a new name were to wind up on the door. No matter how today went, he would be taken from them all eventually. Angela agreed with Harry that Vince needed to remember his days were numbered, but she realized she needed to remember the same thing herself. This would all be over sooner than she could prepare herself for, but wallowing about how today had gone wasn’t going to make tomorrow any better. So she dabbed the moisture from underneath her eyes, careful not to smear her makeup; she then sneaked off to the restroom, checking to make sure her eyes weren’t too red. When Vince saw her again in the conference room a few minutes later, she looked calm enough.

  “I’m glad we sorted things out,” she said with a touch of brightness when Vince sat down next to her; the chatter was loud enough to grant them some privacy.

  “So am I.” Vince sat back in his chair, joining his hands in his lap.

  “What time do your treatments start tomorrow, if you don’t mind my asking?”

  “Why would I mind you asking?”

  “Because I’m not supposed to be depressing you. This is your sendoff after how many years of serving our country. It’s not the time for people to be nosy about your health.”

  “Yet you’re being nosy anyway,” Vince noted, enough lightness accompanying his voice that Angela knew her question was welcome. “Kind of funny how everyone else keeps avoiding the subject as if it’ll make it go away,” he said.

  “If only.”

  “Yeah. Anyway…I have to be there at nine o’clock. But I have an appointment for a second opinion right before that. Just to cover all my bases.”

  “Can you do me a favor?”

  “Sure.” Vince didn’t bother asking what the favor was first, which Angela noticed.

  “Can you give me a call and let me know how it goes? Blame my curiosity and worry-wart tendencies.”

  “I could do that.”

  “I sure am going to miss you around here.”

  Vince offered only a sad half-smile. “Harry needs a new partner anyway. He always goes off on his own and gets into trouble. He’s too flirty.”

  “Well, as my new partner he would have insanely big shoes to fill.”

  “Size thirteen,” Vince said, dodging all compliments successfully.

  Seemingly, Vince and Angela had managed to have a conversation that looked casual to outsiders, because Sophie sat down next to Vince and pulled him without explanation into a tight hug.

  “You’re not really my boss anymore,” she said before taking a giant sniffle, “and while that absolutely breaks my heart, at least it means I can hug you like a crazy person and not deserve any of the weird looks you might give me. Come on, Angie. You, too. Group hug.”

  “Since I’m not your boss anymore, does that mean you’ll stop calling me sir?” Vince asked, warming at the embrace of his two dear friends.

  Sophie laughed mockingly at him. “Don’t be ridiculous.”