The Opposite of Me by Pekkanen Sarah

Author:Pekkanen, Sarah [Pekkanen, Sarah]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Simon & Schuster, Inc.
Published: 2010-02-17T05:00:00+00:00

Twenty

MAY AND I WERE spending a peaceful morning on the phones, checking in with clients and updating files. At around eleven or so, I poured myself a cup of tea and snuck one of May’s chocolate-chip-and-toffee cookies. (The scrambled eggs I’d had for breakfast had been on the skimpy side. And so had both of my pieces of toast.) I’d just settled down to consider possibilities for my new clients when the phone rang. I was the closest so I grabbed it.

“Blind Dates,” I said. I kicked off my shoes and wiggled my newly pedicured toes. I’d had them painted bright red last night when May had forced me to leave early. Aside from the fact that I was so ticklish I’d almost kicked the pedicurist in the face (good reflexes, that one; she’d reared back like a young pony), the experience had been fabulous.

“Is May there?” an unfamiliar voice asked.

“May I tell her who’s calling?” I asked.

“Who is this?” the guy said angrily. “Is this her secretary? You got to be kidding me. She has a secretary now?”

May saw the expression on my face and reached for the phone.

“This is May,” she said. “Oh, it’s you.”

Her face fell as the guy launched into a diatribe. I couldn’t make out his words, but I could hear him shouting.

“I’m asking you to please not call me again,” May said. “We’ve signed all the divorce papers. There’s nothing more to discuss.”

Ah, the charming ex-husband. Should I leave the room and give May privacy? I sat there in an agony of indecision, pretending to be absorbed in reading a file, while he raged awhile longer. May’s voice stayed calm, but her fingers grew white as she clenched the phone.

“I think it’s best if we communicate through our lawyers from now on,” she said at one point. Finally she rolled her eyes and hung up.

“Told you he was a prince,” May said. She tried for a smile, but she couldn’t pull it off.

“Sorry,” I said. “That must’ve been a tough conversation.”

May nodded and turned back to her papers. Clearly she didn’t want to talk about it. I tried to get back to work, too, but my concentration was shot. The peaceful vibe we’d been enjoying was shattered. After a bit, I stood up, gathered our teacups, and washed them out in the sink. I looked at the clock and saw it was almost noon.

“Why don’t I run out and get us some sandwiches?” I suggested. “I’ll bring you back anything you want.”

“You know what I want?” May said, putting down the paper she was reading and rubbing her eyes. “I want to get out of the house for a little while and take my mind off what just happened. I’ve read this page five times in a row, and I still don’t have any idea what it says.”

“Then let’s go,” I said, grabbing my purse. We climbed into May’s yellow VW Bug, and she started up the engine. I reached to turn on the radio so she wouldn’t feel pressured to talk.

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