All Van says is, “It is,” but Alice knows she hit it on the money.
Van—gay, butch, dykey Van, sister of the handsome and wealthy Nolan who might or might not be an enormous jerk—grew up too fast, and now she wants better for her baby sister.
Alice wonders what her life would have been like if she’d been a Marie, if she’d had a Van.
—
Alice shouldn’t be surprised that Van walks her into work that evening, not after she followed Alice up those two flights of stairs at her apartment, but she is. Van gallantly tries to open the front door for Alice, and Alice really should tell her that you need a badge at this hour.
“What the hell,” Van says, shaking the glass door by the metal handle, and Alice doesn’t bother to stifle her laugh. She wordlessly swipes her badge after giving herself a moment to enjoy the visual, and Van nearly falls over as she gives another sharp tug but this time the door easily swings open, sending her tripping backward.
“Fuck!”
Alice holds out her hands, laughing, grabbing onto Van to keep her upright.
“Sorry,” she chortles. “I couldn’t help it.”
Van mutters something about abuse while she straightens her shirt, but she’s clearly trying and failing not to smile. “After you,” she says, holding the offending door open with an eye roll and an overdramatic sweep of her arm, and Alice slides inside, still grinning.
She takes a few steps across the lobby but stops in her tracks when she sees who’s in her seat behind the computer.
“Mr. Brown,” Alice says, resuming her slow walk toward the desk. “This is a surprise.” She tries to keep her face neutral, but she knows what’s coming. The only reason he would be here in person is so that he can fire Alice.
She looks back to where Van is standing and looking a bit confused. “Uh, Mr. Brown, let me introduce you to Van Altman. Nolan Altman’s sister.”
Van nods at him, and he nods back.
“We just came from the hospital.” Hey, if Alice is going to torture herself for the rest of her life for lying to Van and the Altmans, she might as well milk it while it’s happening.
“I see,” Mr. Brown says slowly. “And, um, how is Mr. Altman doing?”
“Stable,” Alice says at the same time as Van says, “Still unresponsive.”
Alice looks over at Van quickly. She’s always hated that question,How is he doing?It’s so invasive. Like, I’m sorry, but just because you asked doesn’t mean I have to share all the gory, intimate details of this person’s disintegrating body with you, near-stranger.
“Stable but unresponsive,” she says.
“Well, I, uh…” He looks awkward, and Alice isn’t sure if she wants to ask Van to leave or not. Honestly it might be nice to get a ride home after being fired. Maybe hug Frank again. “I moved the schedule around, so you should go home,” Mr. Brown continues, looking pained at having to say it. “You start on the early day shift in the morning.”
There’s suddenly a loud rushing in Alice’s ears, so she’s not sure she heard him right. “The…the early day shift?”
“Seven to three,” he says. “With Delilah.”
“Um, wow,” Alice says, gorgeously articulate as always. “This is…wow.” Then, because she’s been burned too many times before, she clarifies. “Do you mean only for this week, or…”
“Permanent,” he says, his voice gruff. “Unless you don’t want—”
“No!” Alice takes an involuntary step forward. “No, I definitely want it. Thank you, sir. So much.”
He gives her a quick nod. “Seven,” he says. “Don’t be late.”
“I won’t.” She grins at him, and turns to Van, her eyes screaming with happiness. The day shift! The fucking day shift! No more overnights, no more living like a vampire without seeing Portland’s best approximation of daylight, no more breakfast for dinner. No more sitting behind the desk all alone—the early day shift has two receptionists at all times. She’ll have someone to talk to, actual visitors to direct to various floors. Things to do with her time. People to watch.
“Oh, and, Rue?”
Alice turns back to him.
“Wear something nice tomorrow. Local news wants to interview you.”
