PillowFace (20 page)

“It’s okay, that wasn’t because of you.”  She took a deep breath, puffing her cheeks as she let it waft out.
“Have a good day.  Call me if you need anything.”  She walked to the counter, retrieved her purse, and threw it over her shoulder. 

“I will.” 

“And no calls about madmen bleeding to death in the backyard, deal?” 

Joel nearly pissed himself when she’d said that. It took him a moment to remember that he had done just that only Monday morning, but it felt like it had been months ago. “I won’t.” 

She smiled. “All right, see ya.” 

“Bye.” 

Then she was gone. The house felt sad and empty without her. This was the first time–if there had been others he couldn’t remember them–that he didn’t want her to go.  He knew the day was going to be long, and he wished she didn’t have to leave.  That was odd to him, any other day he’d have been pushing her out the door, but this time he found himself wanting to wrap around her leg and beg her to stay. 
Should’ve asked her to stay home, she probably would have. 
Scratch that, he
knew
she would have.  But, there was just one big problem with that: 
Pillowface. 

What am I going to do with him on the weekends she’s off? 
He couldn’t worry about that now.  That was a bridge he had yet to come to, and he’d worry about crossing it later. 

He really wanted to eat the breakfast Haley had made, even though his appetite had been shot.  She’d worked very hard on it, so it would be rude to just throw it away.  And, he was certain Pillowface was probably starving.  So, he left the plates on the table and went out the back door to fetch him. 

After one call, he emerged from the side door. 

“Hungry?” 

Nodding, he followed Joel into the house and joined him for a quiet breakfast at the table, eating bacon, fried eggs, and guzzling orange juice. 

****

It was the best meal he’d had in five years. 

(I)

Haley sluggishly made her way into the Jones & Jones Law firm building ten minutes before she was due. 
What can I do for ten minutes?
There wasn’t much to choose from:  chatting with the other early birds—Jonesey was normally one of them, so she already dreaded that encounter, or hide in a restroom stall until eight.  She
could
sneak into the breakroom, grab a hot cup of coffee, and lock herself in her office. 

Jackpot!!

Carlee’s ETA was no earlier than five after eight.  She used the five minute flex time to her advantage on a regular basis.  Most would call it abuse, but Carlee called it, humanitarian.
Someone’s got to put that rule to good use,
she’d said, more often than not.

She made her way to the lobby. No one stood at the elevators.
So far, so good.
She reached over, rung the second floor, and waited.  Standing there, she wondered what to do about her life. She’d screwed it up so badly, and hoped she could repair the damage. Then for the first time since her parents died, she considered going to see a shrink.  Maybe she needed some happy meds to settle her mind, clear her thoughts.

The elevator dinged, startling her.  The doors opened with a
whoosh,
inviting her inside.  She obliged.  She slumped against the wall as the elevator began to rise.  It dinged again on her floor.  When the doors opened she imagined Jonesey lurking on the other side.  “Oh, Haley, fancy meeting you here
.
” 

He wasn’t there. 

Thank you, God. 
She hurried out of there, quickly scanned the upstairs foyer, then headed for the breakroom. 
Why is it so damn far away? 
She’d have to pass right in front of Jonesey’s office on her way there.  It was unavoidable. 

Maybe I can sneak by. 

There was no real way of doing that. How the building was designed and structured there wasn’t a rear hall she could take to bypass his office.  His sat in a direct line to the breakroom.  As she approached it, she shrank inside, and contemplated crawling under the windows to avoid being seen. She might have tried it, but the sudden call from behind her stopped her flat
. 

“Hey Haley!” 

She jumped, stifling a scream, and slowly turned around.  Eyes wide and pale face, she imagined she must look as if she were just busted taking money from someone’s wallet while they were sleeping. 

Cutting the corner farther back was Ashley Thompson, the receptionist.  Because of her thick glasses and corpulent smile, she looked like teeth and eyes bobbing on the thin frame of a woman.  She wore a sweater much too thick for summer and a long, tight skirt. 

“Are you okay?” she asked, her falcate smile retracting. 

Haley forced a smile and said, “Yes, I’m fine, Ashley. How are you?” 

“Jolly.” 

“That’s good.”  Brushing her bangs out of her eyes, her forehead was damp and sticky. 

Ashley stopped in front of her, frowning.  She scanned her up and down, her glare budding larger.  “Are you
sure
you’re all right?” 

“Yeah, why do you ask?” 

“Well, you look so…”

“Plain?” 

“Uh… sure?” 

“I’m not wearing any makeup.” 

“I see.” 

“And, you scared me sneaking up on me like that.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry, that was an accident.  Sometimes I can be so loud.”  Her smile returned.  Haley needed to squint at the brightness of her bulky teeth. 

“Well, it’s been fun talking to you…” She stopped as an idea shaped. “Want to join me for coffee in the breakroom?  No one can mix creamer and coffee like I can.”  She lightly chuckled, hoping Ashley wouldn’t detect her true motivations for the invite. Haley hoped to use Ashley as a buffer to ward off Jonesey.

Ashley politely smiled, but declined.

Haley wasn’t giving up.  “Come on, real quick, it’ll be fun.”

“No.  Thank you. I really need to get going, plus I don’t think Mr. Jones would appreciate us hanging out in the breakroom when we should be working.”

“He’ll be fine with it…”

“I seriously doubt he’d say something to
you
, but he’d reprimand
me.
” 

Ashley’s accusing tone wasn’t appreciated, and Haley wanted to slap the smirk she was receiving right off her face.  “And, what do you mean by that?”  She crossed her arms, feeling heat rush up the back of her neck.  She felt droplets of sweat beading under her arms. 

Holding up a hand as if about to swat a fly, she said, “Oh, nothing at all.  Heavens, no.  I wasn’t implying…nevermind.  What I’m saying is that Mr. Jones isn’t here yet, and I wouldn’t want him coming in and finding us chit-chatting instead of working.” 

Could I be so lucky? 
“What?” 

“Yep, see for yourself.”  She pointed at his office. 

Disbelief masking her face, Haley turned her back to Ashley and crept a few steps up the hall.  She could see the door, the plaque at the top that read:  Geoffrey Jones, Attorney at law.  The blinds were drawn, but a small opened slit remained at the bottom of the window.  Inside, the office was black. 

It’s true!!! 
She whipped around at Ashley.  “That’s fantastic!” 

Ashley looked puzzled by her statement. “Yuh-Yeah, it sure is.  While the cat’s away, you know what I’m saying?”  She snorted. 

“Right,” said Haley, wanting to have been done with this conversation five minutes ago.  “I’ll see you later.” 

“Sounds good, I’m going to go take my place at grand central station.”  She laughed, snorted again, and disappeared in the direction Haley had just traveled. 

She couldn’t believe Ashley. 
I seriously doubt he’d say anything to you.
As she walked past Jonesey’s office she checked one more time to be sure he wasn’t there.  The light was out, and the door closed.  He wasn’t there.  She was tempted to click her heels together in joy. 

I seriously doubt you’d get in trouble for that,
she heard Ashley’s voice telling her.  She’d worried that people thought there was something going on between her and Jonesey, and the way Ashley had spoken to her proved it.  Haley couldn’t blame them for wondering, because she knew it didn’t look right.  If she were on the outside looking in like the rest of them, she’d be wondering the same thing. 

The lunch date, always stopping by her office, and she was sure that they’d all seen him staring at her; hell, she had, and it was creepy, so it was no wonder Ashley was baffled by how she’d acted overjoyed by his absence. 
Probably thinks there’s trouble in paradise, a little spat between the lovebirds.

“Gross,” she said, entering the breakroom.

(II)

Joel should have known by now that when it rained shit, it poured in heavy gloppy clumps. 

The doorbell rang at nine on the nose. 

In the living room, Joel sat in the recliner; lightly dozing while the TV played, ignored, in front him. All he’d seen was flickering images of Chuck Norris trying to sell him exercise equipment while he was in and out of sleep.   

Pillowface sat on the couch, flipping through the current issue of Horrorhound, a magazine devoted to all of Joel’s favorite things:  Horror.

When the bells chimed, Joel’s heart sank.  A flutter rose up his chest, turning into an acidic gulp in the back of his throat.  He leaped out of the chair and was on his feet in less than a second.  Joel looked at the door.  He tried to swallow, but the burning knot was too thick and wasn’t going down.  “Shit, I wonder who it is.”  He scratched his head, leaving red marks on his scalp. “Pillowface, can you…?” 

He glanced at the couch and found it empty. “…hide?” 

Just like in the movies, one moment they were there, and the next, gone.
He’s going to have to teach me how he does that.
The doorbell clamored a third time.  Joel jumped at the noise.  He could ignore it, and hope that they went away, but if his suspicions were correct, he knew who was out there, and also knew they would not go away. 

On his way to the door, it felt as if he was treading across cotton.  He’d never been high before, but figured a bad trip must feel something like the way he felt now.  He stood against the door, with his fingers folded around the knob.  It felt as if it’d been in the freezer for an hour.  He took a deep breath and slowly opened the door to not one, but two visitors outside. 

Paul and Ethan. 

He was correct.  The guys he considered friends.  Both were a year older than him, and would be going to high school at the end of the summer while Joel had to stay in middle school for the eighth grade.  He dreaded being in that place without them. 

Ethan lived at the other end of Marble Lane with his parents and younger brother, Jesse.  At one point in life, he’d been a jock, and in love with sports and collecting baseball cards.  But, after becoming friends with Joel, he began a torrid affair with splatter films.  Soon after, he walked out on sports and moved in with gore.  Like Joel, he collected toys, but unlike Joel, he wouldn’t play with them.  Instead, he’d leave them in the packages only to hang them on his wall.  The ones he
did
open were placed on a shelf in his room.  It wouldn’t be so bad if he didn’t own a few figures that Joel needed to complete his collections. 

Paul was the exact opposite of Joel and Ethan, bu
t just like them in every way. He was overweight, and had a body shaped like an albino Hershey kiss.  His hair, strictly parted on the side, was slicked across his head with an abundance of hairspray and gel.  He was a spitting image of his mother, even the C-cups.  Joel figured seeing Paul with his shirt off was like seeing a younger version of his mother.  He didn’t live on Marble Lane like Joel and Ethan, but instead he and his mother had a house on Shorebrick–a small road that cut between Crescent and Highway 52–with his grandmother living beside them.  His dad had left them at the start of the school year to move in with another woman.  Though it had happened in September, the guys didn’t find out until winter.  Paul had kept it a secret from them, and still wouldn’t talk about it much.  Joel couldn’t believe the man he’d seen outside throwing a football with Paul in the mornings while waiting for the bus could run off and distance himself from his son like that.  Joel had assumed, but kept quiet about it, that was the reason Paul had gained so much weight this year.  He’d always been husky, but after the fall, the fat just seemed to pack on at a hasty rate.  There was pure hatred inside of Paul, and not just for his dad, but anyone.  Luckily, he acted all right around Joel and Ethan.  Joel could tell they were all he had, and vice versa. 

“What brings you by so early?”  Joel was out of breath, but he didn’t know why. 

They shared a puzzled look, then Ethan said, “What do you mean?”