The collective image is just bizarre enough to snap me out of my stupor.
The door nearly closes and I reach out to hold it open with my hand. “Reb?”
She turns to face me, but doesn’t stop hopping.
“Oh, it’s you.” She gives me a little two-finger salute as she marches onto the elevator. “Fancy seeing you in green pea stew,” she says, once again using her fake English accent.
I wouldn’t know what to say to this, even if I wasn’t having a shitty day. But I am having a shitty day. A day that’s making me doubt everything. Making me question my whole life and my future and every decision I’ve ever made. So I do the only logical thing. I burst into tears.
“Whoa,” Reb gasps. “What’s wrong?”
I deny the obvious, as if I could speak a new reality into existence. “I’m not crying!”
The elevator lurches back into motion and I feel so discombobulated I have to lean against the wall to support myself. My bag drops to the ground as I bring my hands up to wipe at my eyes.
Reb, wide-eyed with shock, just shakes her head. “Um ...”
“These aren’t tears.”
“Those really look like tears to me,” Reb blurts.
“I’m not crying.”
“I’m pretty sure you are crying.”
“Yeah, but they’re not sad tears.”
Reb looks around the elevator, like she’s hoping for an escape route. “They don’t look like happy tears.”
“They’re mad tears!”
“Oookay.”
The door opens on the top floor to reveal the lobby for the law office on the top floor. There’s a man standing there, shirt sleeves rolled up, a stained mug of coffee in his hand. His hair sticks up at odd angles like he definitely slept in his office overnight. He takes one look at Reb and me and takes a big step back. “I’ll wait for the next one.”
Reb starts to push the close door button, but I lurch forward, holding the door open. With my other hand, I tug Reb forward and push her out into the law firm lobby. “You should leave, Reb! I don’t want anyone to see me like this.”
Before the doors can close, she jumps back in. “I’m not leaving you in tears in the elevator.”
The guy takes another, even bigger step back. “I’ll just—” He gestures vaguely over his shoulder as he walks backwards, gaze darting from me to Reb.
I try again to push her out. “I don’t want you here.”
Reb ignores me and jabs at the button to close the door. It slides closed, and the elevator lurches into motion again.
“You should just leave me here.” I sag against the wall, squeezing my eyes closed. “Save yourself.”
“Oh. My. God.” Reb snaps, sounding annoyed. “Stop being so dramatic. And tell me why you’re crying.”
“I’m not crying,” I insist again. “I never cry.”
“You’re crying now,” Reb says.
“Obviously!” I wail.
I squeeze my eyes closed, vainly trying to trap the tears inside, as if that can somehow help me keep my emotions inside.
Since my eyes are closed, I don’t see what Reb is doing, but suddenly I feel the elevator stop. When I open my eyes, Reb is standing beside the control panel, clearly having just pushed the button to stop the elevator.
