The 9.17% solution by Frances Horibe

Author:Frances Horibe
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: VisionArts Inc.
Published: 2016-03-15T00:00:00+00:00

Nella and Alan fight

When they get into the car, Alan leans over to kiss Nella.

“What’s that for?” she says with a surprise that makes Alan rather sad.

“Just wanted to thank you for tonight.”

Nella smiles. “I can behave when I need to.”

“I know.” He starts the car and backs out of the parking spot. “What did you and Phillipa talk about?”

Nella shrugs. “This and that. She’s kind of interesting.”

It makes him bold. “Well, great. Maybe we should have them over some time. I bet Phillipa would love to look at your work.”

She snuggles farther into the seat. “Not likely.”

Alan prevents the clutching in his spine from traveling any farther up his back, certainly not to his vocal chords. “Why not?” he asks as noncommittally as he can.

Nella shrugs. “She doesn’t have the time.”

“We’d do it on a Saturday night and—”

“You don’t know?”

“Know what?”

Nella shakes her head. “Honestly, I don’t know how you could not.” She says it slowly as to an idiot. “He’s got cancer, Alan.”

“What? When did this happen?”

“He had it when she started but it’s the second time around.”

“Oh my god!”

“You honestly didn’t know?”

“Well, it’s not something that comes up at a meeting.” He is beginning to feel defensive.

“But hasn’t she been there for a while?”

“Only four months—”

“Four months! And you didn’t know.”

“She never mentioned it.”

Nella shakes her head.

Alan feels a surge of anger. How was he supposed to know if nobody told him? He didn’t talk about Jennie and Lou and even her at work. Why would she expect that Phillipa is different?

“…so she’s got her hands full,” Nella is finishing. “In fact, I recommended my massage therapist to her. She needs to relax.”

Alan perks up. “Really? Well, that’s good. I bet it would be relaxing for both of you to go.”

Nella raises her eyebrows. “I’m just going to send her the number.” There was a silence. Alan was trying to find the right words when, “Don’t say it.”

He glances at her and in that quick moment, he isn’t sure whether it’s anger or sadness flitting across her face. “What?”

She turns her face to the window. “Don’t say it, please.”

He looks straight ahead. “Have you added mind-reading to your artistic talents?”

“How can you even be thinking it?”

“How do you know what I’m thinking?”

Her face is still turned away. “Her husband is sick, Alan. Can’t you stop badgering her?”

“I’m not!” The injustice is full on him. “I haven’t said a goddamn thing!”

She turns back to him and even now, he’s not sure whether its sadness or anger. “Then why did you want to go to the dinner?”

He lifts his hands momentarily from the steering wheel. “Because it’s what you do in business—when the boss invites you, you go.”

“And getting there early? You wanted to make sure we were sitting near her.”

He hadn’t thought she noticed. “No, I told you—”

“Alan.” Quiet and he’s pretty sure, sad.

He pulls into the driveway and switches off the ignition.

“Well, I didn’t know her goddamn husband was sick!” And yet, somewhere deep inside, he knows he should have.

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