Holly Gets an Offer

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Holly’s desk had the look of a busy person. There were files piled everywhere and sticky notes and lists of phone numbers up on the cubicle walls, on the sides of her computer monitor, on the desktop and all over. There were no pictures of loved ones, no collections of ceramic dogs or Kinder Egg surprise toys, no artwork proudly displayed with bright splatters of paint or crayon stick figures to make her smile during the long stressful day.

Jason came up the cubicle row alongside the windows and put his briefcase down on her desk. She tore herself away from a file after a moment to look up at him. He smiled.

“So, do you want to hear what happened with that Bennett guy?” he said.

She nodded. “Yeah.” Took her fingers off the keyboard and sat back in her chair. Jason had a thick unibrow, the prerequisite Van Dyke goatee that all the guys were sporting and was wearing the trench coat that he thought made him look like a private investigator.

“Drunk as a fuckin’ skunk.” He waited for her reaction with raised eyebrows and then pressed on. “You’d have to be pretty looped to catch on fire and not notice, right?”

“I guess so,” she said. She felt that she should be taking notes or something, so she reached for the file.

He took a piece of paper out of his case and put it on her desk. “Official cause of death was smoke inhalation, according to the M.E.’s report. The cop gave me that. So the old lady didn’t have anything to do with it. I guess the old guy got kicked out of bed ‘cause he was so liquored up or whatever, and he got cold in the basement and pulled the couch up to the wood stove to keep warm. A real brainiac, huh?”

She nodded and looked down to make a note. He looked disappointed that she wasn’t getting his sense of humor.

“Mrs. Bennett smelled smoke and called 911, so the house was saved.” He pulled a sheet of paper out of his briefcase. “Here’s my site inspection. Most of the finished basement is toast, and there’s smoke damage everywhere, so kiss all the upholstery and clothes goodbye. Most of the rest of it can be cleaned. I’ve got my guy in there right now trying to decide if there is any structural damage.”

“Did you cut her a check, yet?” said Holly.

“Nope,” he said, zipping up his briefcase. “I’m going to get some coffee. Walk with me.”

She looked at him for a second and then shrugged, grabbed her mug and followed him down the hall towards the kitchen. Jason poured himself a cup and then one for her. He looked to see if there was anyone sitting at the table, and then glanced out the door they had come in. He leaned against the counter and looked at her, his head tilted a bit to the side.

“So, listen,” he said. “I was wondering if you’d like to get some dinner some time.”

She looked at him as if needing another clue as to what he was talking about.

“Or a movie?”

Then it clicked. “Oh. Sorry, no. It’s just that, with the kids it’s too hard to get a sitter.”

He nodded and kept smiling. “C’mon. I’ll find you a sitter.”

She smiled back at him. “No. Thanks, anyway.” She started walking back towards her desk with her full coffee mug, careful not to spill it. Sat down and got back to her voice mail. She could’ve been flattered that he’d asked and that this clearly reaffirmed that she was still an attractive, interesting sort of person. She could’ve been intrigued by his offer, and imagined seeing a whole new side of Jason. She could’ve been offended, as office romances weren’t exactly encouraged. She could’ve been annoyed at his timing, or secretly pleased but not with him in a thousand years, or uncertain, or felt any one of a hundred other things, but the truth was she didn’t really think much about it at all. She just didn’t date.

Typing away, updating the Bennett file, the phone ringing, and then the surprise of Mrs. Bennett being on the line just as she'd been thinking about her.

“Yes, this is Holly.”

Why did this file have to come to me? What do I say to this woman? She smoothed her eyelids down with her thumb and fingertip as if the pain of her headache might be coming in through her eyes and she could stop it this way.

“Jason was at the house,” said Mrs. Bennett's quavery voice on the line.

“Yes. He told me. Is there anything you need?”

“No, I just wanted to know what was going to happen next.”

Holly adjusted the phone and opened her eyes to look at the file in front of her. “Well, first we have to get your house back to habitable condition, and then we can get you some money to start replacing your belongings. We’ll have to see what the contractor finds.”

“I see.”

There was a long pause. Holly cleared her throat. “Mrs. Bennett?”

“Yes?”

“Is there anything I can do for you?”

“It’s all so confusing.”

Holly waited, twisting the phone cord around her finger.

“There’s been the life insurance guy, the funeral home, there’s you people, there’s the rest of the finances, and Harold always dealt with that stuff. And then there’s just… what do I do now?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know.”

Mrs. Bennett sighed on the line. “I’m sorry, dear. I’ll let you go. I’m sure you’re busy.”

“Do you have any children?” Holly asked.

“A daughter. She lives in Alberta. She’s flying in tomorrow.”

“Well, that’s good.” She unwound the length of phone cord from her finger. “Give me a call if there’s anything you need. We’ll get things, um, we’ll get your house back in order as soon as we can.”

“Thank-you, Holly.”

“Good-bye.”

She hung up the phone and jumped on her computer like data entry was the best part of her day. Typing and typing, sips of her almost cold coffee, voice mail, pile after pile of folders. There was nothing like working hard to keep the mind off the troubling details.

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