turtleneck, sweatpants, a cap, a little soot on the face—piece of cake—for Daniel Craig. In her current physical condition—exercise was something to be watched and appreciated aesthetically—Jennifer couldn't get past the patio on the first floor. And heights—well, she thought she was just fine with heights until she took a peek over the railing.
"Just look at you! You're turning green!" Mrs. Walker shouted above the din. "This air isn't good for you." She pulled Jennifer back inside and shut the door, cutting off the noise. "Sometimes I think you have no concern about your condition," she scolded.
Jennifer was very concerned about her condition and the prospect of losing her breakfast on Mrs. Walker's white carpet. She lowered herself carefully onto the couch, all the time swallowing air in little gulps. At last her stomach muscles began to relax.
"That's better. We've got some color back in our cheeks," Mrs. Walker assured her.
The timer dinged in the kitchen just as the doorbell sang out "Georgia."
"Would you mind getting that?" Mrs. Walker asked. "If I don't get the casserole out right away, the noodles at the edges turn into something resembling cement." Not an appetizing analogy.
Jennifer went to the door and peered through the peephole. A young woman stood there shifting back and forth, her eyes darting up and down the hall and back to a piece of paper she clutched in her fist. Jennifer opened the door.
"I'm really sorry to bother you, but I was looking for 1235 and I can't seem—"
"Go back to the elevator and go all the way down to the lobby," Mrs. Walker called from the end of the hall. "Then take an elevator on the opposite side of the lobby."
"You mean I can't get there from here?"
Mrs. Walker came up beside Jennifer. "No. The building is separated into two distinct wings. You've got to go all the way down."
"Thank you. I'm so sorry to have bothered you."
"No problem," Mrs. Walker assured her, shutting and locking the door. She sighed.
"Does that happen often?" Jennifer asked. "People getting lost like that?"
"Once a month or so, I guess. Ernie gives them directions, but it's confusing. We've all gotten used to it. I just re-direct them. We all do."
"We?"
"The residents. If I'm alone, I look to make sure it's some nonthreatening-looking person before I open the door."
What could be less threatening than a young, pregnant woman who bore a haunting resemblance to a near-sighted Snow White?
Maybe she wouldn't have to break in. All she had to do was to get Penney Richmond to open the door. That should be easy enough if Ms. Richmond had half the confidence in the downstairs security that Mrs. Walker had. And if she was used to directing traffic back and forth between the two halves of the building. And if the directions ruse didn't work, she could always pretend to go into labor. Surely, even a hard-hearted creature like Penney Richmond would open her door to a young woman giving birth. And that was all she had to do—get Penney to open the door, like in a game of tag.
Chapter 19
Alone at last! And it was only ten o'clock. Moore and Edith had been called to a meeting, and Jennifer had been left to cover the phones. John Allen had yet to show up. He apparently wasn't required to attend the regular Thursday morning staff meetings, and, if Tuesday were any indication, he wouldn't be in until well after lunch. She had Allen's office all to herself.
She went straight to the wooden desk in the center of the room and flipped through the appointment calendar that lay on top. Lunch and Drinks seemed to be his main activities, along with several appointments with a well-known orthodontist.
The lap drawer contained some loose change, paper clips, half a dozen pens, and a ruler. The side drawers were filled with Channel l4 stationery and blank tablets. They looked as if they hadn't been disturbed since they were put there. Allen was either the neatest person she had ever encountered,
"Just look at you! You're turning green!" Mrs. Walker shouted above the din. "This air isn't good for you." She pulled Jennifer back inside and shut the door, cutting off the noise. "Sometimes I think you have no concern about your condition," she scolded.
Jennifer was very concerned about her condition and the prospect of losing her breakfast on Mrs. Walker's white carpet. She lowered herself carefully onto the couch, all the time swallowing air in little gulps. At last her stomach muscles began to relax.
"That's better. We've got some color back in our cheeks," Mrs. Walker assured her.
The timer dinged in the kitchen just as the doorbell sang out "Georgia."
"Would you mind getting that?" Mrs. Walker asked. "If I don't get the casserole out right away, the noodles at the edges turn into something resembling cement." Not an appetizing analogy.
Jennifer went to the door and peered through the peephole. A young woman stood there shifting back and forth, her eyes darting up and down the hall and back to a piece of paper she clutched in her fist. Jennifer opened the door.
"I'm really sorry to bother you, but I was looking for 1235 and I can't seem—"
"Go back to the elevator and go all the way down to the lobby," Mrs. Walker called from the end of the hall. "Then take an elevator on the opposite side of the lobby."
"You mean I can't get there from here?"
Mrs. Walker came up beside Jennifer. "No. The building is separated into two distinct wings. You've got to go all the way down."
"Thank you. I'm so sorry to have bothered you."
"No problem," Mrs. Walker assured her, shutting and locking the door. She sighed.
"Does that happen often?" Jennifer asked. "People getting lost like that?"
"Once a month or so, I guess. Ernie gives them directions, but it's confusing. We've all gotten used to it. I just re-direct them. We all do."
"We?"
"The residents. If I'm alone, I look to make sure it's some nonthreatening-looking person before I open the door."
What could be less threatening than a young, pregnant woman who bore a haunting resemblance to a near-sighted Snow White?
Maybe she wouldn't have to break in. All she had to do was to get Penney Richmond to open the door. That should be easy enough if Ms. Richmond had half the confidence in the downstairs security that Mrs. Walker had. And if she was used to directing traffic back and forth between the two halves of the building. And if the directions ruse didn't work, she could always pretend to go into labor. Surely, even a hard-hearted creature like Penney Richmond would open her door to a young woman giving birth. And that was all she had to do—get Penney to open the door, like in a game of tag.
Chapter 19
Alone at last! And it was only ten o'clock. Moore and Edith had been called to a meeting, and Jennifer had been left to cover the phones. John Allen had yet to show up. He apparently wasn't required to attend the regular Thursday morning staff meetings, and, if Tuesday were any indication, he wouldn't be in until well after lunch. She had Allen's office all to herself.
She went straight to the wooden desk in the center of the room and flipped through the appointment calendar that lay on top. Lunch and Drinks seemed to be his main activities, along with several appointments with a well-known orthodontist.
The lap drawer contained some loose change, paper clips, half a dozen pens, and a ruler. The side drawers were filled with Channel l4 stationery and blank tablets. They looked as if they hadn't been disturbed since they were put there. Allen was either the neatest person she had ever encountered,
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