“Yes,” said Kathy. Something rustled in the background. “Jack, are you feeling alright? Are you sick? I think Mr. Rowell wants to fire you, but if you’ve got the flu or something, I’m sure he could be reasoned with.”
“You don’t remember me calling yesterday?” Jack gripped the phone cord tight, ran his thumb over the loops. “You’re sure?”
“If you spoke to someone after you left, it wasn’t me,” said Kathy. “I really think you should see a doctor, Jack. You don’t sound too good.”
“Thanks, Kathy.” Jack kneaded his temples. “It’s been really nice knowing you.”
“Oh, I’ll tell him you’re sick, honey. Don’t you worry,” said Kathy sternly. “I’m not letting him fire you when you’re like this.I thought you looked sick yesterday and now you sound like you don’t even know where you are. How high is your fever?”
“Pretty high,” said Jack, determined not to question his luck.
If tomorrow was the seventeenth again, would any of this matter?
“You poor thing,” Kathy cooed. “I still have to send you through to Mr. Rowell, but I’m going to talk to him first and let him know you’re very ill.”
“Thank you,” said Jack, eternally grateful. “And Kathy?”
“Yes, dear?”
“Can you remind me of the date?”
“It’s the seventeenth,” she said. More shuffling sounds. “Alright, I’m going to put you on hold. Don’t you worry, Jack.”
When Dan picked up, Jack felt like he really could be ill; his palms sweated and his temples throbbed.
“Jack,” he boomed. “Kathleen tells me you’re sick. That why you didn’t show up for the audit?”
“Yes, sir,” said Jack, just in case this was all a dream, and he had the tiniest sliver of an opportunity to keep his job. “The flu.”
“Why didn’t you fucking say so?” Dan groaned. A sigh. “Look, we can’t reschedule. It’s a crying shame, but this is a huge problem. You can’t just skip out on your job for a—for a fever, or whatever you’ve got going on. We don’t have the money to send you on a vacation. You have to actually do the audit.”
“I can go tomorrow,” said Jack hurriedly. “Really, I’ll be fine?—”
No,” Dan grumbled. “It’ll be too much of a hassle. Honestly, I fucking hate Hidden Cove. It was a nightmare and a half just to get you that train ticket. No, just come back tomorrow. We’ll discuss it then, alright? Drink some water, watch some TV, and we’ll see you soon, OK?”
“OK,” Jack echoed miserably, tears building in his eyes. “I’m really sorry. I’m so sick. I just crawled to the bathroom and passed out.”
“Happens to the best of us,” said Dan sympathetically. “Take care of yourself, Jack.”
“You, too,” said Jack. He went to return the phone to the hook, paused, then lifted the receiver to hear the dial tone ringing in his ear like a siren.
CHAPTER
SIX
“Wake up, motherfucker!”
Jack fought the urge to hurl the phone across the room. “Hey, Boris. Can you do me a favor?”
“Not unless you’re tipping me.”
“I don’t have my wallet,” Jack mumbled, rubbing sleep from his eyes. “What day is it?”
A great, beleaguered sigh. The sound of a chair rolling, pages flipping. Finally, “It’s the seventeenth.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah. Says right here in the ledger.” A yawn. “That’s the end of my goodwill. Get the fuck out of bed or whatever you need to do. I don’t care.”
