in the indentation where the bedpost met the carpet caught Tig’s eye. “What’s this?” She lifted a tarnished silver ID bracelet from the floor. “This isn’t mine. It must be hers. There’s an inscription. It says,
If I could tell you
.”
Wendy took it from Tig. “I’ve never seen her wear this.”
“Me, either. Maybe she dropped it and that’s why she was on the floor.” Tig looked at the bracelet for a long moment and then tucked it into her pocket. “I’ll bring it to her; maybe she’ll have a moment.”
Wendy pulled a sweater over her shoulders. “I’m going for a walk. Maybe stimulate labor. You should call Pete.”
“Leave it, Wendy.”
“What’s he doing in Hawaii, anyway?”
“He’s studying ultra-endurance athletes. Male and female. He’s not waiting around for a call from me. He’ll be surrounded by fat-free, gorgeous triathletes. He’ll find someone who can run the Andes Race with him.”
“You could go to Hawaii.”
“Could you just stop? I’m moving on, Wen. You’re here now; the show starts tomorrow.” Tig sighed. “When he was here, I was so often irritated with him. Now, I miss him, but if he came back, I’d probably be irritated again. It was the same when Mom lived here.”
“Sounds like a pattern.”
“What pattern?”
“Absence makes the heart grow fonder. Except where your sister and boyfriend are concerned; absence and presence are both irritating.”
Tig blinked at her sister. “It’s weird, you know, because I miss you when I don’t see you.”
“No, you don’t.”
After a minute Tig said, “No, I don’t.”
Chapter Ten
Is That Fair?
Jean Harmeyer bent in front of Tig and fiddled with her padded headset, trying to catch Tig’s gaze as it nervously flitted from the acoustic tiles, to Macie at the telephone console, and to the note cards in her lap. Jean finally grasped Tig’s shoulders.
“I don’t know about this, Jean. What if I say something that makes me lose my license? I’ve been so stressed. I can’t be trusted verbally. What if I choke and get a kind of counseling Tourette moment?”
“You are going to be fine. You’re rested. We’ve been practicing for two weeks. This is the same, only in real time, on the air, and with an audience.” She smiled, gesturing to the smattering of people in the airy, well-lit auditorium.
Tig glanced out into the space and counted roughly twenty-five fidgety people in a room that could easily hold two hundred and fifty. She tried on her most winning smile, then forgot it upon seeing a man in the front row painting his nails blood red with the concentration of an eye surgeon.
“What if no one calls in? Do we have to go the full hour and a half, or can we go to music or something?”
“Tig, I’ve been at this for a long time. People will call, if the promos did their job.”
“If?”
“The billboards, radio announcements, and bus spots have been out there for two weeks. We’ve had calls already. Trust me.”
“That’s easy for you to say; you don’t have a mic on you.”
“I may not be actually on the radio, but I do have people I answer to. A lot depends on this for me.” The briefest skittering of anxiety flashed across Jean’s face. “But I’m not nervous, because I have you in this chair. I may be a terrible judge of character in romance, but I have killer instincts where radio is concerned. You’re going to be great.” She squeezed Tig’s shoulders and added, “This is your calling.”
Tig noticed Macie with her thumbs up, dressed optimistically in a kind of goth fräulein costume complete with knee socks and platform Mary Janes.
Jean said, “This is your chance to kick some counseling ass.”
“I told you, I’m not going to do that. I can only do this if it is a professional thing.”
“Just remember, there are a lot of words in Webster’s dictionary. If I know you, you’ll have a good balance between the colorful ones and the professional ones.” As Jean
If I could tell you
.”
Wendy took it from Tig. “I’ve never seen her wear this.”
“Me, either. Maybe she dropped it and that’s why she was on the floor.” Tig looked at the bracelet for a long moment and then tucked it into her pocket. “I’ll bring it to her; maybe she’ll have a moment.”
Wendy pulled a sweater over her shoulders. “I’m going for a walk. Maybe stimulate labor. You should call Pete.”
“Leave it, Wendy.”
“What’s he doing in Hawaii, anyway?”
“He’s studying ultra-endurance athletes. Male and female. He’s not waiting around for a call from me. He’ll be surrounded by fat-free, gorgeous triathletes. He’ll find someone who can run the Andes Race with him.”
“You could go to Hawaii.”
“Could you just stop? I’m moving on, Wen. You’re here now; the show starts tomorrow.” Tig sighed. “When he was here, I was so often irritated with him. Now, I miss him, but if he came back, I’d probably be irritated again. It was the same when Mom lived here.”
“Sounds like a pattern.”
“What pattern?”
“Absence makes the heart grow fonder. Except where your sister and boyfriend are concerned; absence and presence are both irritating.”
Tig blinked at her sister. “It’s weird, you know, because I miss you when I don’t see you.”
“No, you don’t.”
After a minute Tig said, “No, I don’t.”
Chapter Ten
Is That Fair?
Jean Harmeyer bent in front of Tig and fiddled with her padded headset, trying to catch Tig’s gaze as it nervously flitted from the acoustic tiles, to Macie at the telephone console, and to the note cards in her lap. Jean finally grasped Tig’s shoulders.
“I don’t know about this, Jean. What if I say something that makes me lose my license? I’ve been so stressed. I can’t be trusted verbally. What if I choke and get a kind of counseling Tourette moment?”
“You are going to be fine. You’re rested. We’ve been practicing for two weeks. This is the same, only in real time, on the air, and with an audience.” She smiled, gesturing to the smattering of people in the airy, well-lit auditorium.
Tig glanced out into the space and counted roughly twenty-five fidgety people in a room that could easily hold two hundred and fifty. She tried on her most winning smile, then forgot it upon seeing a man in the front row painting his nails blood red with the concentration of an eye surgeon.
“What if no one calls in? Do we have to go the full hour and a half, or can we go to music or something?”
“Tig, I’ve been at this for a long time. People will call, if the promos did their job.”
“If?”
“The billboards, radio announcements, and bus spots have been out there for two weeks. We’ve had calls already. Trust me.”
“That’s easy for you to say; you don’t have a mic on you.”
“I may not be actually on the radio, but I do have people I answer to. A lot depends on this for me.” The briefest skittering of anxiety flashed across Jean’s face. “But I’m not nervous, because I have you in this chair. I may be a terrible judge of character in romance, but I have killer instincts where radio is concerned. You’re going to be great.” She squeezed Tig’s shoulders and added, “This is your calling.”
Tig noticed Macie with her thumbs up, dressed optimistically in a kind of goth fräulein costume complete with knee socks and platform Mary Janes.
Jean said, “This is your chance to kick some counseling ass.”
“I told you, I’m not going to do that. I can only do this if it is a professional thing.”
“Just remember, there are a lot of words in Webster’s dictionary. If I know you, you’ll have a good balance between the colorful ones and the professional ones.” As Jean
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