Page 279 of Don't Google Me


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Yes.

My suitcase was inside my house.

That felt close enough.

The second message was from Annie.

May I send you something unrelated to the interview?

I stared at it.

Hank pretended not to watch.

Me:Define unrelated.

Her answer came quickly.

Annie:No media. No feelings. No jewelry.

Me:That last category is very specific.

A photograph arrived.

A gray hotel chair stood in the corner of a gray hotel room.

No one was using it.

Beneath the photograph:

It knows what it did.

I laughed before I could stop myself.

Hank smiled.

“Tell her hello.”

“I didn’t say who texted.”

“You don’t laugh at your mother like that.”

“I laugh at my mother.”

“Not voluntarily.”

I typed:

I hope you’re not sitting on the floor for the joke.

Annie:I’m on the bed. Rachel believes the chair is decorative.

Me:Rachel thinks granola bars are lunch.

Annie:This remains our most serious disagreement.

The messages stopped there.

No request to call.