Read Online Yesterday's Hero by Jonathan Wood - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Jonathan Wood
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can’t send misplaced aggression her way. It’s Coleman who really has me on edge, not her. She doesn’t even sound like herself. She’s being quiet.
I flick on the kettle. Take a moment to brace for the admission.
“Yes.”
It’s an awful thing to say. A terrible acknowledgment of complicity.
“Does he… Does he…” There’s more swallowing. “Do you think he loves her?”
I grab two sugar packets, tear them open. I suspect I’m going to need to switch to artificial sweetener, though, if I want to get over the bitter taste of this one.
“I…” I hesitate. Would a lie be better? Would that be the right thing?
“Please. I just want to know the truth.” Devon is turned away from me, hiding her face.
“I think so,” I say.
The water in the kettle starts to work itself into a froth. I reach out to turn it off.
“I don’t know why I came here,” Devon says, freezing me. “It was a really stupid thing to do. And now I’m trapped here. Looking at him. At what he’s become. At her. I’m caught and it’s awful and I don’t feel like me. I feel like some mean terrible person who wants to do terrible things. And I’ve never done a terrible thing. I’m a good person, Arthur. And that sounds like an awfully conceited thing to say, but, well, maybe now is the time to be conceited, just a little bit, if it helps. But I try. I really try to be a good person. I try to be happy. I was happy. And I’m not. He’s taken it. She’s taken it. She’s taken my happiness. And… And…”
She’s crying now. Really crying. I step so I can see her, so she can see me. And screw the politics of it, she needs to see she has a friend here.
“Starting here sucks,” I tell her. “But I promise it gets better.”
Another wracking sob from Devon. Then she lunges forward and clamps me in a bear hug. All the oxygen exits my lungs. I gasp like a fish flipped to shore.
“Thank you,” she says. “Thank you.”
My ribs creak.
“Ahem.” Behind us, someone clears their throat. I twist my head as the corners of my vision go dark. Kayla stands there.
“Oh,” Devon says, and releases me. I stagger back, gasping.
Kayla points to Devon’s face. “Your makeup,” she says, a little gruffly. “Should fix that. I’ll show you the bathrooms.”
“Oh!” Devon says again, clapping hands to her cheeks. “Oh gosh, I must look terrible. Really silly of me. I mean, well, this is an emotional time, of course. But still, a tighter rein might be necessary. Keep myself in check. There’s acting the fool and then looking like one afterward. Compounding the problem. You are very sweet to point it out. I’m Devon by the way.” She sticks out her hand. Then her brows crumple. “You know that.” Her lip starts to tremble. “Silly of me.”
“Bathroom,” Kayla commands. And the two of them walk away, leaving me with a screeching kettle and the sense that no one is really who I thought they were.
Back in the conference room
In the absence of other targets, Tabitha is staring daggers at me now.
“Look,” I say, “I know being hideously insensitive to everybody is kind of your ‘thing’,” I even give her the air quotes, “but if you could lay off the woman whose boyfriend you stole that’d be just lovely, all right?” It’s not the most diplomatic way to handle it, but I’m really not in the mood.
To my shock it’s not Tabitha who responds.
“Hey,” Clyde says. Then, uncharacteristically, he seems to run out of things to add.
Tabitha rolls her eyes at him too.
I close my eyes. I don’t want fights. I want to be happy and in a new relationship and my only concern to be a Russian that wants to blow me into very small pieces.
“If we could all just… act like we’re adults, and not stare venomously at Devon, and not avoid her eye with our heads on the table, then maybe this might be easier, that’s all I’m saying.”
The daggers continue from Tabitha. Whether it’s in spite of or
I flick on the kettle. Take a moment to brace for the admission.
“Yes.”
It’s an awful thing to say. A terrible acknowledgment of complicity.
“Does he… Does he…” There’s more swallowing. “Do you think he loves her?”
I grab two sugar packets, tear them open. I suspect I’m going to need to switch to artificial sweetener, though, if I want to get over the bitter taste of this one.
“I…” I hesitate. Would a lie be better? Would that be the right thing?
“Please. I just want to know the truth.” Devon is turned away from me, hiding her face.
“I think so,” I say.
The water in the kettle starts to work itself into a froth. I reach out to turn it off.
“I don’t know why I came here,” Devon says, freezing me. “It was a really stupid thing to do. And now I’m trapped here. Looking at him. At what he’s become. At her. I’m caught and it’s awful and I don’t feel like me. I feel like some mean terrible person who wants to do terrible things. And I’ve never done a terrible thing. I’m a good person, Arthur. And that sounds like an awfully conceited thing to say, but, well, maybe now is the time to be conceited, just a little bit, if it helps. But I try. I really try to be a good person. I try to be happy. I was happy. And I’m not. He’s taken it. She’s taken it. She’s taken my happiness. And… And…”
She’s crying now. Really crying. I step so I can see her, so she can see me. And screw the politics of it, she needs to see she has a friend here.
“Starting here sucks,” I tell her. “But I promise it gets better.”
Another wracking sob from Devon. Then she lunges forward and clamps me in a bear hug. All the oxygen exits my lungs. I gasp like a fish flipped to shore.
“Thank you,” she says. “Thank you.”
My ribs creak.
“Ahem.” Behind us, someone clears their throat. I twist my head as the corners of my vision go dark. Kayla stands there.
“Oh,” Devon says, and releases me. I stagger back, gasping.
Kayla points to Devon’s face. “Your makeup,” she says, a little gruffly. “Should fix that. I’ll show you the bathrooms.”
“Oh!” Devon says again, clapping hands to her cheeks. “Oh gosh, I must look terrible. Really silly of me. I mean, well, this is an emotional time, of course. But still, a tighter rein might be necessary. Keep myself in check. There’s acting the fool and then looking like one afterward. Compounding the problem. You are very sweet to point it out. I’m Devon by the way.” She sticks out her hand. Then her brows crumple. “You know that.” Her lip starts to tremble. “Silly of me.”
“Bathroom,” Kayla commands. And the two of them walk away, leaving me with a screeching kettle and the sense that no one is really who I thought they were.
Back in the conference room
In the absence of other targets, Tabitha is staring daggers at me now.
“Look,” I say, “I know being hideously insensitive to everybody is kind of your ‘thing’,” I even give her the air quotes, “but if you could lay off the woman whose boyfriend you stole that’d be just lovely, all right?” It’s not the most diplomatic way to handle it, but I’m really not in the mood.
To my shock it’s not Tabitha who responds.
“Hey,” Clyde says. Then, uncharacteristically, he seems to run out of things to add.
Tabitha rolls her eyes at him too.
I close my eyes. I don’t want fights. I want to be happy and in a new relationship and my only concern to be a Russian that wants to blow me into very small pieces.
“If we could all just… act like we’re adults, and not stare venomously at Devon, and not avoid her eye with our heads on the table, then maybe this might be easier, that’s all I’m saying.”
The daggers continue from Tabitha. Whether it’s in spite of or
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