“Knock, knock!”
I look up at my office door and see a face peeking in. It takes me a second to recognize Gertie, my old assistant pre-Monica. She hasn’t been back once since she fell on those stairs and broke her hip. She limps into the office, holding a plate of chocolate chip cookies that I can smell all the way across the room. She’s got a cane in the hand that isn’t holding the cookies, and she leans on it heavily as she walks.
I miss Gertie’s cookies. I miss Gertie. I miss having an assistant I’m not worried is making a play for my husband. I don’t care that she didn’t know how to use the fax machine and sometimes even seemed confused by the phone. Right now, I’d give my right arm for another Gertie.
“How are you, Abby?” Gertie beams at me over the plate of cookies. “It’s so great to see you again! You look like you’re hard at work!”
I am hard at work. At this point, I can’t afford any more screw-ups. I’ve been showing up early, taking lunch in my office, and staying later than anyone else. It’s still a little hard to focus, since my sleep is still not great, even with my new prescription for sleeping pills, but I’m doing the best I can.
“Yeah,” I say. “What can I say—I’m lost without you, Gertie.”
Her face softens. “I heard what happened. About, you know… the adoption falling through. I’m so sorry. That must have been awful.”
“Yes,” I agree. If only Janelle hadn’t changed her mind. We’d have a baby right now, and I’d probably be exhausted like I am now, but a good kind of exhausted. “I’m okay though. We’re… uh, adopting from someone else.”
No need to get into the details.
She places the plate of cookies down on my desk and clasps her hands together. “Oh, that’s so wonderful to hear! You’re going to be a great mom, Abby. I just know it.”
“Thanks.” I manage a smile. “Anyway, have a seat. How is your hip feeling?”
Gertie settles gingerly into a chair in front of my desk and rests her cane against my desk. “Good days and bad days. I’m on my feet again, and that’s what’s important.”
“Absolutely. You look great.”
She laughs and pats her puff of white hair. “Well, aren’t you sweet?” “Any chance you might come back?”
This time when she laughs, she throws her whole head back like I made a hilarious joke. Except it wasn’t a joke. “Oh, I don’t think so, Abby. I’m done living in the fast lane. Done rushing to make deadlines and getting pushed down stairs.”
I start to say something else, but her words stop me. “Pushed down stairs?”
She waves a hand. “Just a joke. It was an accident, obviously.”
“But…” I grip the edges of my chair, my heart pounding. “You were pushed down the stairs?”
“No, no!” She shakes her head. “There were a lot of people in the stairwell and… well, it felt like a push, but it was obviously an accident. Who would push little old me down the stairs?”
Maybe someone who wanted her job.
I stare at Gertie, my mouth hanging open. I know she thinks it’s all a big joke, but I’m not so sure. She said it felt like someone pushed her down the stairs. And then almost immediately after the accident, Monica appeared to take her place.
It’s got to be a coincidence. It’s got to.
“Abby, are you okay?” Gertie asks. “You look downright pale! Are you eating enough cookies?”
“Uh, I guess not.”
“Well, take one! I made you a whole plate. For you and that lovely husband of yours.”
Right. Me and my lovely husband.
I reach out and take a cookie from the plate. It tastes like cardboard.
