She waits a beat, trying not to let the last time she did this encroach on this time. “And not you either,” she finishes. She allows a pregnant pause before asking, “Can you make me that promise, Tommy?”
“Aw, man,” Tommy argues. “I don’t wanna hurt no one. That’s not—”
“I don’t think you want to hurt anyone, Tommy. I don’t think that for a minute.” Hope knows she sounds honest because she is being honest. “Most people don’t set out to hurt other people,” she says. “But sometimes, when a gun is involved, it happens anyway. It might happen on accident, but it happens nonetheless. And I don’t want any accidents today. Do you?”
“No,” he says quietly.
“Hey, I’ve got an idea.” She pretends this has just occurred to her. “You know what you could do?” She waits for him to respond; this is a partnership they are forming, and his reciprocation only strengthens the partnership.
“No, what?”
“You could open that door and push your gun out into the vestibule. I could send someone in to take it away, and then there’d be no chance of an accident.”
“This gun is the only thing between me and prison right now,” he says.
“I see why you would think that, but that’s not entirely true. We have a lot of options we could talk about.”
“I tell you what,” he says, and just like that she can feel Tommy shift out of the lull she’d created and go right back into control mode. This is always a one step forward, two steps back process. “You see about my dad, and I’ll think about your promise,” he says. She can hear the smirk in his voice just as clearly as he heard her smile.
“So you’re giving me your word that you’ll really think it over? Maybe even surrender your gun?”
“I ain’t surrendering my gun, lady,” he says. “But I’ll think about the promise.”
“Okay,” she says. She will not push any further. “I’ll let you think about it. And I’ll be in touch as soon as I have something for you. About your dad.”
“Okay,” he says. And then he is gone. Round one is over.
Chapter 22
Tommy hangs up with Hope like nothing has happened, his face blank as he turns around to find all four women out of their seats and standing behind him. Four pairs of eyes bore into him. “What?” he asks, indignant. He makes a shooing motion with his hands in the direction of the stools they were sitting on. “Y’all go sit down.” He narrows his eyes. “Or would you rather go back to the window and hold up signs?” He rests his hand on the gun he has tucked into his waistband as he says it. Morrow wishes it would accidentally go off, that he’d blow his balls off. That would bring his siege to an abrupt end.
It is a crude and sadistic thought, but Morrow lets herself have it. It isn’t nice to think such things, and it certainly isn’t what a respectable, refined woman of a certain age would go around thinking. But the longer she is held hostage, the less respectable and refined she feels. As she follows the others back to their stools, something occurs to her. Somewhere along the way, she lost her edge. She went from a defiant young woman making her own rules to a doting midlife caregiver who makes up rules for the people she loves, rules intended to keep them safe. All of her giving and sacrificing have softened her in a good way, yes. But in this world sometimes you need an edge.
She thinks of sneaking cigarettes with Pat, of wishing Tommy would blow his balls off, and deep inside, she feels a little proud,maybe not of herself as she is right then and there, but proud of her potential to change, to become a new person at a time in life when she thought all the versions of herself had already existed. That person doesn’t need her daughter to validate her; she isn’t defined solely by the roles she has played.Maybe, Morrow thinks,there is another chapter after this. Maybe it could be a good one.
Tommy goes over and hops up on the counter. His long legs dangle over the edge of it, and he kicks his feet against it like a little kid. For a while they all sit in silence, the rhythmic thudding of his heels reverberating against the steel cabinet drowning out the sound of the second hand on the clock. Morrow wants to tell him to quit that, but she doesn’t want to engage him. Better to leave him to it and hope that negotiator calls back with some miracle solution that involves his father. She wonders what kind of father he must be if his kid is doing this.
She is instantly ashamed at the thought. She would not want to be held accountable for her children’s failures. With kids, she has learned, you can do your very best and it still isn’t enough. You can do your very best and still be guaranteed to make mistakes. She thinks again of Maya this morning, of the tires squealing out of the driveway, and she hopes once again that she will get a chance to apologize to her daughter. This time, though, she won’t say, “I’ll try to be a better mother.” This time she will say, “I’ll try to be a stronger me.”
Tommy raises his finger and points across the post office. They all turn to look at what he is pointing at. At first they all think he means something outside the window, but when they follow the direction of his finger, they see he is indicating a poster of the symbol of the United States Postal Service.
“What do y’all reckon that is?” he asks.
“Looks like a bird,” Morrow answers, playing along, partly because she is bored and partly because she feels a tiny bit guiltyfor wishing Tommy would accidentally blow his male parts off. She looks closely at the poster. She must have walked past it every time she’s been in here, but she’s never actually seen it before.
“It’s a bald eagle,” Nadine says with a hint of disappointment in her voice that she’s the only one who knows the answer. All four of the other heads in the room turn to look at her. “It’s called the Sonic Eagle?” She poses it as a question, but they all shake their heads. None of them can pass this quiz.
With everyone’s full attention, Nadine continues, stating the explanation in the same automated tone she’d used when she posed the question to Blythe about things being fragile or perishable. “It was introduced in 1993 as the official logo of the United States Post Office. It’s on basically everything: mailboxes, our uniforms, every envelope we sell, every box we use.” Again they shake their heads. None of them have paid attention. Nadine rolls her eyes. “See how it’s facing forward? It’s poised for flight. It’s supposed to symbolize how the postal service has to change with the times. It’s ready for whatever comes along.”
“How’d you know that?” Tommy asks, incredulous.
Nadine pats the symbol affixed to her uniform. “It’s my job,” she says.
Morrow studies the Sonic Eagle.Poised for flight, Morrow thinks.Facing forward.She is about to ask Nadine to repeat the other stuff she said. But then the phone rings.
Tommy’s eyes widen. He jabs his finger at Sylvie. “Answer it,” he orders.
Sylvie gets that determined set in her jaw that, as Morrow and probably everyone in the room is starting to recognize, means she’s ready for a fight. Sylvie doesn’t often pick her battles, but when she picks them, they are learning today, she digs in good. She starts to say something, but Tommy, who is learning this as well, says, “Fine, I’ll get it myself.”
