Do or Di (9 page)

“Huh?”

“Why would Princess Diana use this kid to spend her eternity offering you advice?”

I stopped for a second to think it over. I hadn’t considered this angle.

“I don’t know. She’s not doing the land mine thing anymore, apparently.” I paused for a second. “Wait a minute, are you implying that I’m not worthy of being haunted by Princess Di?”

“No,” Colin said in that tone of voice that means
Yes, I can fathom no reason why a member of the royal family would spend eternity hanging out with the likes of you.

“I think you are missing the point.”

“Could be. Are you asking me if I think it’s possible that she has a direct line to the hereafter and Princess Di or what to do with some nut job who thinks she has that kind of contact with Princess Di?”

“She’s just a bit odd. She seems so much older than her age.”

“Kids these day grow up faster then we did, and then you add in that she’s likely had to grow up even faster given her home situation.” Colin shrugged.

“So you think I’m the one who’s crazy.”

“I’m not saying you’re crazy. Maybe it’s a tumor. You hear stories about people who have these huge baseball-sized tumors in their brains that lead to all kinds of weird behavior.”

“Great, now I have a tumor. This conversation isn’t making me feel any better. I just wondered if you thought there might be anything to it. You believe in all those weird woo-woo things.”

“Woo-woo?”

“No offense, but you know what I mean. Do you think there
is
an afterlife? Karma? Something like that? Something that could account for what she’s saying?”

“The only reason I can see that Princess Diana would be speaking from the beyond to you through some teenager, would be because she did something fundamentally wrong in her past life and has to come back as a form of penance. Sort of like being born into a lower caste. Look, the kid most likely has a range of issues, pretending to be Princess Diana most likely makes her feel important. Heck, maybe she even likes to believe she does have some sort of special connection to Princess Di. A girl could think of worse mentors. Or she could be messing with you.”

“What do you think I should do?”

“Is it possible, and I’m saying just possible, that perhaps the whole thing is blown out of proportion? Maybe she’s just a screwed up girl who needs someone and she’s found your number. She heard you weren’t interested in being her mentor and she came up with a scheme to get you involved. You were pretty clear in the beginning that you didn’t really have any interest in her. You have to admit she’s interesting to you now. Most likely you’ve got your own issues and the idea of her being Princess Di, or connected to Princess Di, brings that out.”

I weighed that out. It’s an option I hadn’t considered.

“So I’m treating this as if Princess Diana would be like my subconscious.”

“Freud would have a field day with you, but yes, that’s what I am suggesting.”

I didn’t meet Colin’s eyes and instead focused on counting the cinder blocks in the wall.

“What if I don’t have any guilt about how I’m living my life?”

“Well then your only problem is a crazy girl. She struck me as harmless. You could always get more information from the program about her. They would probably have more background information or maybe give you some ideas on how to deal with her.”

“That’s a good idea.”

“Despite what you think of me, I do have them from time to time. If you aren’t sure about her, you could always ask them to assign you someone else.”

“Except for the fact that I told Wayne how well things were working out. After his whole give back to the community spiel, I had to say something, especially since I’m hoping to land a permanent time slot. You can tell this partnership program means a ton to him for some reason.”

“Wayne was in foster care as a kid.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah. He told me that one night after a few drinks.”

Now I felt bad.

“Great. So pretty much I screw this up with Diana and he’s going to be thinking of me in the same way as some heartless child welfare worker.”

“You shouldn’t have said things were working out,” Colin pointed out.

“Thanks for the hindsight.”

“Like I said, I’m full of great ideas.” He spread his arms wide.

“Was keeping me on the show your idea?”

“It’s a good opportunity for you. The ratings are high. I’ve listened to you do traffic. You’re the only person I know who can have an opinion on traffic. I figured it wouldn’t hurt my show to have a bit of that unpredictability.” Colin didn’t meet my eyes.

“I notice you didn’t mention that it’s good for you too. It shakes up the show.”

“Fine. Consider me shaken.”

“Was the rest of it your idea too?” I crossed my arms over my chest.

“What do you mean, lover?” He lingered over the last word as if it were a chocolate in his mouth.

“Please don’t call me that.”

“You better get used to it. Wayne wants everyone in the station to believe we’re in a relationship so that the story is believable in case anyone checks it out.”

If I closed my eyes I could almost hear the whispering and snickering that must be happening in the back halls and over the cubicle walls. Colin’s love life was prime time news at the station. It seemed like there wasn’t a female within the office walls who hadn’t had a crush on him at some point. It was possible a few of the guys had a thing for him too.
I cannot believe I agreed to this.

“Am I making a huge mistake?”

“Which one? Letting people think you’re dating me? Being a mentor to Princess Di or dating a married man?”

I jumped. “How do you know about Jonathon?”

Colin leaned against the wall with exaggerated casualness. “A guy keeps his eyes and ears open around here, it’s amazing the kind of things he can pick up.”

“Does everyone know?” I fought the urge to look around in case anyone was sneaking up on me.

“I doubt it, but you know this kind of gossip doesn’t stay underground for long.” He caught my eye. “Don’t give me that stink eye. I’m not going to tell anyone.”

“Let me guess. Despite your private life, you feel quite comfortable sitting in judgment on mine. You think dating Jonathon is a big mistake.”

“You’re the one supposedly being haunted by dead ex-royalty in the guise of a teenage girl, maybe you should ask her if it’s a mistake.” Colin gave me a curt nod and then headed off.

I looked at my watch. We had a couple hours until the show started. I needed to find Diana and convince her to come back to the station so that my boss would think I’m a worthy human being. If this is a mistake, it won’t be the first one I’ve made. Practice makes perfect after all.

The call to the Positive Partnership organization was not positive. I was hoping it would be a simple process, that after one call to them, they would forward a nicely summarized psychiatric report and a phone number where I could reach Diana. Turns out nothing in my life can be simple.

“I can’t release information about Diana without her written permission. What I can tell you is outlined in the information package you received at the event. Diana’s mother has substance abuse issues and has been in and out of recovery centers. Her father hasn’t been involved in her life for several years now, and at this point social services has been unable to locate him in order to enforce the child support order. She has no siblings. Her test scores show her as having above average intelligence, but her attendance in school has been very spotty.”

“Do you know about her, uh, interest in Princess Diana?”

“Princess Diana?” I could hear her pause before she flipped through the papers. “There isn’t anything in the file about that, but these kids often pick an unusual focus or hobby. It is a chance to define themselves outside of their home lives. Like a chance to start over.”

“Do you have a phone number for Diana?”

“Does this mean you’re reconsidering your involvement in the program?”

“Of course. In fact, the whole thing was a simple misunderstanding. If you’re talking to anyone else on your board or anything, you’ll be sure to mention that I was always keen on the program, won’t you?”

“But you said you were too busy. You dropped out of the program.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Yes, you did, I still have your message.”

Good God, was I going to have to pay this woman off?

“I was just feeling a bit overwhelmed at the time. I might have come across like I wasn’t interested in being involved in the program, but as anyone can see, Diana is a special young woman.”

“Yes, she is.” There was a pause. “Certainly worth more than being a rung on a corporate ladder.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Nothing, just a comment. Here is her number and address.”

I bit back a retort while she rattled off the information, proud of myself for thanking her very sweetly before I hung up.

* * *

I called Diana’s number and it rang and rang. No voice mail and no one picked up. Who doesn’t have voice mail in this day and age? I tapped my pencil on the corner of my desk for a few minutes. I had a few options.

I could focus on my job and assume that my hard work and effort would shine through and result in promotion and professional recognition.

I could hunt down a possibly disturbed teenage girl and try to leverage a relationship with her in order to manipulate my boss’s unfortunate childhood into a better career move for myself.

If I went with option one it would indicate that I was an individual of sterling character. If I went with option two it would most likely lead to the outcome that I needed. And, regardless of my motives, being involved with Diana would be good for her. Either she’s crazy, in which case I may be able to direct her toward the proper psychiatric support, or she’s thinking she can pull something over on me in which case she needs to learn that it is not that easy to fool someone. If she thinks she has a chance to help me, then it would give her a feeling of accomplishment, leading to increased self-confidence, which would of course lead to an improved overall quality of life. This is what those lifestyle books call a win-win situation. I put the pencil down and grabbed my car keys.

The address Positive Partnerships gave me was in the Central District. The house looked like a soft rotting tooth. The roof was covered in moss and dipped slightly in the center. The house was covered in white stucco that over the years had taken on a dirty dishwater gray color. It had the decided “before” look in a home makeover show. You could see slivers of light poking out behind the curtains in the front. I made my way to the front door and pushed the doorbell button. It gave a squeak as I pushed it, but I couldn’t hear any chimes inside the house. I knocked. Nothing. I looked down at my watch. I had less than an hour before I had to be back at the station. I turned to leave and then the door opened.