Chapter 37 #2
Miri was shaking with laughter, the kind that results in high-pitched squeaking and gasping for breath, and it was proving infectious; Liz had covered her face and was snorting into her hands and even Casey was finding it very hard to maintain control.
She nearly felt sorry for Sam but managed to stop herself just in time.
“Oh, Sam,” Kyle managed to choke out. “I’m so sorry.”
“I don’t have foot fungus!” Sam reiterated. “I haven’t seen a doctor in fifteen years!”
“Is that supposed to be reassuring?” Liz asked.
“Don’t you…” Sam pointed a finger at Liz, but Miri cut in, shrilly asking, “Are your toes really green?”
“This is a smear campaign. There is no fungus—look, I’ll prove it to you!” Sam began to take his trainers off under the desk.
“No!” cried Miri.
“No need for that, mate,” Kyle added. “Let’s all keep all our articles of clothing on!”
“Right, that’s it!” Sam yelled, ripping off the headphones and clambering awkwardly over Kyle to get to the door. “I don’t have foot fungus!” he yelled, yanking open the studio door. “Do you hear me?” He continued to shout as he marched down the corridor. “I don’t have foot fungus!”
The rest of them sat stunned. Even the producer’s mouth hung half-open.
“And on that note,” Miri began, “it’s time for the news.”
—
“Well,” said Casey as they stood outside the radio studio. “Good luck with the book.” She held her hand out to Liz.
Liz shook it and then asked, “Do you still write?”
For a moment she thought about lying, not quite ready to give Liz all the benefit of her doubt just yet, but in the end, she decided this was a time for turning new leaves.
“I struggled for a long time. After.” She figured she didn’t need to clarify after what.
“But I’ve started working on something new.
It’s different, but it could be something.
I’m going to follow it and see where it takes me. ”
Liz nodded. “I’m glad. You’re a great writer. I was always secretly jealous of how easily the ideas came to you.”
“You were?” Casey hadn’t known that.
She shrugged and then sighed. “I can’t shake the feeling that I shouldn’t have this book deal.”
“Why?”
“Because I took your slot with the literary agent. Like it should have been you being published, not me.” She dashed away tears. “Gosh, sorry, I’ve wanted to tell you this for so long.”
Casey thought back to her glimpse at the bookbindery, holding her book warm in her hands. But it wasn’t her book—that was Other Casey’s life. She hadn’t written a novel in this life, and the only person responsible for that was her. Not Liz, or even Sam.
“You wouldn’t have a publishing deal if they didn’t believe in you or your book.” Casey made sure to meet Liz’s eyes. “The literary agent meeting was never a guarantee of representation. They might have hated my book idea. But they loved yours. You deserve to be published, Liz.”
Liz burst into sobs. “Why are you being so nice to me?”
“Honestly,” Casey said, shrugging, “you’ve given my anger nowhere to go. All that blaming you did was prevent me from moving forward. Blaming everyone else became a bit of a habit, and I’m trying to break bad habits.”
“Wow.” Liz sniffed, wiped her nose on a tissue from her pocket, and said admiringly, “You’re so well adjusted.”
Casey laughed. “I’ve had to get up close and personal with a lot of my decisions recently.” And a lot of Other Casey decisions too, she thought.
Liz’s taxi arrived, and she pulled Casey in for a hug before she could reject it. “Let’s meet in the new year,” she said into Casey’s ear. “New year, new start.” And then she climbed into the waiting car, and with a wave she was gone.
As she climbed onto her bike, Casey’s phone rang and she plugged in her headphones, accepting the call before tucking her phone into her pocket and pushing off.
“Hey, radio star,” came Ajay’s voice.
“Hey yourself,” she said, smiling as she took a corner.
“I don’t know if you know this, but apparently Sam doesn’t have a foot fungus?”
She laughed as she bumped up the curb and onto the straight tree-lined path into the park. “I had heard that.”
“We listened in the canteen. It was hilarious. I think it’s going to be the team’s new catchphrase.”
She grinned. “He was not a happy bunny.”
“You were brilliant, by the way.” She loved that she could hear the smile in his voice.
“I was nervous.”
“I know you were, but it didn’t come across at all. You owned him!” He sounded awed and she wanted to bask in it. “Are you glad you did it?”
“So glad!” She entered the dense thicket of trees. “It feels like I put it to bed, you know? I’m hoping maybe word will get around and people will just leave me alone.”
“I’m proud of you.”
“Thank you. I’m proud of me too.”
—
“Sensational!” said Margo, sitting on one of the swivel chairs at the checkout, with her legs up on the conveyor belt while Casey restocked the boxes of Coopers this being her first encounter with a spirit, she’d supposed that gray-tinged was the usual skin tone for otherworldly creatures.
Now a rosy hue bloomed in the apples of her cheeks that filtered into a soft peach as it spread over her nose, chin, and forehead, softening her sharp features.
Perhaps they were both rediscovering their mojos.
“I guess sometimes a change really is as good as a rest,” Casey reflected.
“Hmmmm…” Margo tapped her chin thoughtfully. “So you’re saying, given my success with Sam, that I should start utilizing the communication airwaves for my interventions.”
“Umm, I don’t think I did,” Casey replied, frowning.
But Margo’s eyes were already glinting with a keenness that promised trouble. “Yes,” the spirit mused, “I think you could be onto something…”