“I laughed out loud when I heard he’d assumed the Pulchenko seat on the High Council,” Adele is saying, her voice full of my mother’s intonation. “Misha was such a nonconformist, considered himself a true iconoclast. Oh, the stories I could tell you, Agent Darnelle.”
He chuckles softly. “I imagine you could.”
What hasn’t come up for discussion? My exam. Really, I’m superfluous to this little talk. If it weren’t for the fact that my job hangs in the balance and Adele sounds so much like my mother it makes my heart ache, I’d leave.
“You worked with my father,” Agent Darnelle says, although it’s not a question. His voice is low, and at the last moment, he swallows back the words as if he’s hoping they won’t reach the microphone.
There’s a beat of silence. The only reason I know Adele hasn’t hung up is the industrious hum of a barista frothing milk and the chatter and clank of the café.
“Your father was a wonderful man.” Adele’s own voice catches. The emotion is so thick that I feel a lump in my throat as well. “I’m so sorry for your loss. He thought the world of you, and I can’t express how very proud he was of you.”
For a moment, I think Agent Darnelle will simply pack up his messenger bag, grab his cell phone, and depart. It’s there in his posture, palms flat against the table, shoulders set to push to stand. Then, the tension melts from his face. The smile he gives the phone is full of gratitude.
“Thank you.”
All is quiet except for someone’s hushed request for a skein of yarn.
“I hate to rush this along, but we’re heading out to the fairgrounds to start preliminary work on the exhibit,” Adele-as-Rose says. “After all, it’s nearly state fair time.”
Agent Darnelle nods as if he understands state fairs in theory but not in practice. Like he saw one once in a movie but has never actually been.
“They’re crocheting a horse,” I say by way of explanation, not that it’s much of one.
“Not just any horse,” Adele puts in, because, really, she can’t help herself, “but Dan Patch!”
I give him a little who-knows shrug, but his face lights up.
“Oh, Dan Patch!”
Now I’m the one who needs an explanation.
“He was a famous, if not the most famous, racehorse of his time,” he says. “And yes, now I remember. He did end up in Minnesota. How fascinating. I read once that?—”
Yes, leave it to Agent Darnelle to know more about my state than I do. Before he can go all schoolmaster on us, he shakes his head as if banishing all things horse-related, straightens his spine, and clears his throat.
“It’s a shame,” he begins in a serious tone and abrupt change of subject.
That earlier lump of emotion fills my entire mouth. I reach behind me for my umbrella and clutch her so hard she might squeal. She shakes, her worry radiating through my fingers and wrist.
“That your daughter didn’t schedule her examination earlier.”
Like it was my idea. But I loosen the death grip on my umbrella.
“She has an extraordinary combination of abilities. There were several recent training opportunities that I would’ve recommended for her. Certainly, she would’ve been a welcomed team member in North Africa. But no matter, she’s eligible for advanced training now.” He glances up at me, a frown on that noble brow. “You’ll be a bit older than the other agents, but perhaps maturity will make the training more meaningful.”
“I had my reasons for insisting Pansy take advantage of the full five years before her examination.”
My heart kicks up a notch. At that moment, Adele has so captured my mother’s entire essence that I’m nearly convinced it is her on the phone, and these last three months have been some sort of strange fever dream.
“Maybe we rush agents into the field,” he concedes.
“Maybe we do,” Adele-channeling-Rose says, and there’s no maybe about it.
I decide to interrupt before they wander down yet another conversational digression.
“Are you saying I passed?” Because, is he? He hasn’t actually said one way or another, so I think it’s a reasonable question.
His expression tells me it’s not. “With flying colors, Agent Little. You are more than accomplished, and I fear a permanent post in King’s End is beneath your capabilities.”
