didn’t appear to notice the sound. Emory looked to the corner, where a supervisor stood. The guy didn’t seem to notice either. He drew his hand back and shoved both under the table. He couldn’t hide his appearance from his wife, though he’d hope he didn’t look as bad as she said. He only saw part of his face for couple of minutes in the morning. His hands, though. He didn’t want Lillian to glimpse his hands for a second. The ‘no touching’ rule came as a relief.
“They give you a hearing date yet?” Lillian asked.
“February 6,” he answered.
Lizzie hopped down from Lillian’s lap. She stood.
“That’s crap,” Lillian said. “You’re stuck here and you can’t even get a hearing?”
“It’s not that far away now.”
“A quarter,” Lillian said. “They bounced you into the next quarter. Somebody wants you in this budget or off that budget or the arbitration budget went over. It’s crap and it’s going to kill us.”
“Not us.” He started to reach across the table and stopped. He knew the rules. He wouldn’t risk it. They looked for reasons to deny visits. He looked forward to them like nothing else in his life, not dessert or Christmas presents or sex. Seeing Lillian’s skin, her plump lips. Hearing words and sounds directed at him, because he existed as a person and not some piece of organic machinery. Watching Lizzie fidget and dance, bored from lack of tension, fear, drama. Her lack of attention left him relieved. Happy even, though that word didn’t fit. Too large.
Lizzie walked away. Back in the direction from which they’d come.
“Come on, daddy,” she said. “Home now.”
“Not today, pumpk…” Emory’s voice fell apart.
Chapter Twelve
Sylvia and Samjahnee sat in their rented all-wheel drive wagon. The vehicle stood tall, and had 13-times the room they needed, but she’d insisted on it. She wanted something rugged, that could subjugate slush and snow without causing her concern.That there wasn’t much slush and snow at the moment made no difference. She’d read about the Great Lakes climate. Blinding blizzards without warning. Roads transforming to ice beneath your tires. Wild wind ripping across frozen lakes, kicking out your feet and flying you to a frosty neverland. Legends said winters around here fell far too large and powerful for anyone to fight. They took your control.
She didn’t care for that part. She had to at least try to control everything she could or she’d… she didn’t know what. She instructed her forward team to set her up with everything she needed to survive in the arctic for two weeks. Starting with a big, bad six-wheeled truck.
In which, Sylvia and Samjahnee sat, looking at the monitor in the center of the truck’s dash. It showed a young, blond woman’s photograph. Sylvia looked back through the passenger window. The real live version exited a gym.
Samjahnee said, “Our girl’s done a wee bit early today.”
“Those ‘get fit’ New Year’s resolutions never last.” Sylvia watched the woman walk towards them, gym bag over her shoulder. She held the black strap with both hands, presumably not trusting the grip of her enormous fleece mittens. They matched her boots. Sylvia liked the style. Cartoony, but the woman had the body and age to get away with it. In fact, Sylvia thought, she had the looks to get away with a lot. She knew it, too. Only the confident could wear such outsized fuzz.
Sylvia slid her whalebone glasses onto her face. “Are these going to work in this cold? They’re not going to frost over or anything are they?”
Samjahnee tapped the monitor and brought up live feed from Sylvia’s glasses. “The greatest achievements in science in the last 20 years have been in the area of surveillance cameras.”
Sylvia opened the door and pivoted on her seat. The baby bump changed the way she used to exit an automobile. She didn’t care for it, or the uncertain feeling of the packed snow that covered every
“They give you a hearing date yet?” Lillian asked.
“February 6,” he answered.
Lizzie hopped down from Lillian’s lap. She stood.
“That’s crap,” Lillian said. “You’re stuck here and you can’t even get a hearing?”
“It’s not that far away now.”
“A quarter,” Lillian said. “They bounced you into the next quarter. Somebody wants you in this budget or off that budget or the arbitration budget went over. It’s crap and it’s going to kill us.”
“Not us.” He started to reach across the table and stopped. He knew the rules. He wouldn’t risk it. They looked for reasons to deny visits. He looked forward to them like nothing else in his life, not dessert or Christmas presents or sex. Seeing Lillian’s skin, her plump lips. Hearing words and sounds directed at him, because he existed as a person and not some piece of organic machinery. Watching Lizzie fidget and dance, bored from lack of tension, fear, drama. Her lack of attention left him relieved. Happy even, though that word didn’t fit. Too large.
Lizzie walked away. Back in the direction from which they’d come.
“Come on, daddy,” she said. “Home now.”
“Not today, pumpk…” Emory’s voice fell apart.
Chapter Twelve
Sylvia and Samjahnee sat in their rented all-wheel drive wagon. The vehicle stood tall, and had 13-times the room they needed, but she’d insisted on it. She wanted something rugged, that could subjugate slush and snow without causing her concern.That there wasn’t much slush and snow at the moment made no difference. She’d read about the Great Lakes climate. Blinding blizzards without warning. Roads transforming to ice beneath your tires. Wild wind ripping across frozen lakes, kicking out your feet and flying you to a frosty neverland. Legends said winters around here fell far too large and powerful for anyone to fight. They took your control.
She didn’t care for that part. She had to at least try to control everything she could or she’d… she didn’t know what. She instructed her forward team to set her up with everything she needed to survive in the arctic for two weeks. Starting with a big, bad six-wheeled truck.
In which, Sylvia and Samjahnee sat, looking at the monitor in the center of the truck’s dash. It showed a young, blond woman’s photograph. Sylvia looked back through the passenger window. The real live version exited a gym.
Samjahnee said, “Our girl’s done a wee bit early today.”
“Those ‘get fit’ New Year’s resolutions never last.” Sylvia watched the woman walk towards them, gym bag over her shoulder. She held the black strap with both hands, presumably not trusting the grip of her enormous fleece mittens. They matched her boots. Sylvia liked the style. Cartoony, but the woman had the body and age to get away with it. In fact, Sylvia thought, she had the looks to get away with a lot. She knew it, too. Only the confident could wear such outsized fuzz.
Sylvia slid her whalebone glasses onto her face. “Are these going to work in this cold? They’re not going to frost over or anything are they?”
Samjahnee tapped the monitor and brought up live feed from Sylvia’s glasses. “The greatest achievements in science in the last 20 years have been in the area of surveillance cameras.”
Sylvia opened the door and pivoted on her seat. The baby bump changed the way she used to exit an automobile. She didn’t care for it, or the uncertain feeling of the packed snow that covered every
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