13. Chapter 13
Chapter 13
A t the Krumkake Café with Jack, I felt at ease once again. We were chatting amiably and getting along famously, as we always did, without a hint of the tension from the past few days. That is, until Irene herself entered the café. A short, thin woman with unassuming short brown hair, she somehow commanded attention wherever she went. When Irene’s steel-grey eyes landed on us, she proceeded to stare while waiting in line to order. I forced a polite smile, and Jack waved and smiled—also forced, or so I preferred to think.
After placing her order, Irene walked briskly over to our table, her very high heels clicking on the tiled floor. She nodded curtly to me before addressing Jack. “Jack. You didn’t reply to my email this morning.”
“The email you just sent a half hour ago? I’ve been having lunch with a friend, Irene, as you can see,” Jack said, lightly gesturing toward me.
Glancing at me, she was about to speak but then apparently thought better of it, setting her lips in a firm line as she turned her steely eyes to Jack again. “I see.”
“I’ll get back to you this afternoon, Irene. I know it’s an important project,” he said calmly, with an easy smile.
“I’m glad you recognize that. I look forward to your reply when you’ve finished your lunch with a friend ,” Irene said, putting a strange emphasis on the words. She abruptly pivoted and returned to the front counter to await her takeout order.
I let out a slow breath. After Irene was out of hearing distance, I hissed, “Oh my, she is tightly wound! And more than a little demanding. Is she always like that, or is it the stress of the big project?”
Jack sighed, running his hand through his neatly styled brown hair, a gesture I rarely saw from him, only when he was particularly stressed or frustrated. “A little of both, I’d say.”
“How do you cope with it? I can’t imagine having such a demanding boss.” I shook my head and bit into my sandwich. Unlike Irene, my demanding boss was usually also supportive and not socially inept.
Jack appeared to be carefully considering his next words while gathering the last bits of salad onto his fork. “It’s complicated.”
For some reason, I pressed on. “How so?”
“It’s hard to explain. She has a lot on her plate,” he said slowly. “She means well, mostly. And she’s been through a great deal in her career. It hasn’t been easy for her.”
I sighed, knowing it was pointless to ask for more details, as Jack wouldn’t betray a friend, or boss, or whatever she was.
Or lover . Ugh, hopefully not.
“Well, I hope you’re all right. I hope she’s not stressing you out too much.”
“I’m fine. I can certainly handle Irene,” he said, putting his fork down and sipping his ice water. “Do you want to get scones, or shall we pass on dessert today?”
I opened my mouth in mock horror. “Skip the scones? Are you crazy?”
His head rolled back with laughter. “Right, that’s why you love this place. Well then, I have my answer.”
My mouth curved into a wide grin. My Jack was back. His easy smile, his laugh, his steadying force in my life—I didn’t realize how much I depended on those things until they were in short supply. I wondered vaguely what Irene was attracted to. Jack was surely attractive in a number of ways, but Irene was an unusual woman; it was hard to imagine that she could really appreciate all of Jack’s great qualities as a friend, as a writer. It was even harder to imagine that their relationship could be primarily a physical attraction. Though he was an objectively attractive man, that would hardly be enough for a woman like Irene. Or perhaps she was just the sort to take advantage of her position with a younger direct report.
I shook my head slightly. This was none of my business, unless he chose to confide in me, and I only wanted him to be happy after all. Being happy with someone as inherently unhappy as Irene seemed like an oxymoron at best, an impossibility at worst. Still, I could and would be a supportive friend. Jack had certainly done the same for me many times, and even though he disliked Gregory, he would support me. Heck, Jack would probably even find something to like about Gregory if it meant that much to me.
At the counter, we chatted with Melanie and debated which types of scones to buy and how many. In the end, we purchased too many and proceeded to devour one together on the short walk home. “I’m glad we did this today, Jack. It was nice. It is nice, and even the weather is agreeing with us today,” I said warmly, leaning over and biting from the scone at the same time he did, our faces very nearly colliding. My breath caught as we both backed up a bit.
Enough of this unnecessary awkwardness. Maybe we could … embrace it.
I giggled and snagged the first bite. “Mmmm. I’m sorry if I’ve been weird lately or put you in weird situations or whatever.”
He paused in his stride and turned toward me, his arms pulling me into a quick embrace. He backed up and then stopped and held me at arm’s length while looking into my eyes searchingly. “No need to apologize. It’s me, Jack. I’ve been dealing with your weirdness for more years than I can remember.”
I crossed my arms with a look of mock outrage.
The corners of his mouth twitched while his eyes twinkled. “All right, I suppose you’ve been dealing with mine too.”
“That’s more like it,” I said, nudging him with my elbow as we resumed walking. “Well, I hope the rest of your day is better, and hopefully that urgent email isn’t as earth-shattering as Irene made it sound.”
His smile wavered for just a second, and then he laughed. “So do I, Vivi. So do I.”