Page 45 of Emergency Exit
“Hey, Harper!” Josh from the traffic group came around the corner of her cubicle. He had brown hair, and Harper remembered that he was a different person from Jake—also in traffic—because he had ear gauges.
“Hi, Josh.”
“Um.” He paused, and Harper waited. “I… we… Well, Piper and the gang, we’re going out after work.”
“That’s nice,” said Harper. Josh fiddled with his ear gauge. The large black hoop was large enough that she could see his finger on the backside of his ear.
“We would like you to come with us,” he said.
“Oh,” said Harper. “I would like that too! Thanks for inviting me!”
Josh beamed. “Great! OK, everyone’s meeting in the lobby at five. We’re walking over to Doyle’s.”
Harper worked until five, looking forward to the excursion. It was proof she didn’t need Ash and that other people liked her. But when she arrived at the front desk promptly at five, she found only Josh waiting for her.
“Where is everyone?”
“They left early to get the big table,” said Josh.
“Ah,” said Harper, nodding. She had heard the trials and tribulations of not getting the big table from Piper.
“But don’t worry,” said Josh confidently, “I told Jake to count us in for the fry order.”
Harper had also heard of the glorious wonder of Doyle’s fries. Apparently, there was garlic and truffle salt.
“Thanks! I haven’t been to Doyle’s yet. I’m looking forward to it. Piper says they also have some sort of sausage appetizer that is to die for.”
“Sausage bites,” said Josh knowingly.
“Are you two off to Doyle’s?” asked Cindy, coming out of the break room. She was the receptionist and seemed to know where everyone was at all times. Piper suggested that she’d been air-tagging them.
“Yeah,” said Harper. “Are you coming too?”
“No, I’m waiting for a package, and then I’m off to see my son in a choir performance.”
“That’s cool,” said Harper. “Has he been singing long?”
“No, and frankly, I kind of wish he’d stop.”
“What?” asked Harper, laughing.
“I don’t want to be a downer, but no one told me that his joining choir meant I’d be getting up early and spending my evenings in elementary school lunch rooms.”
“Oh, you don’t mean that,” said Josh, laughing awkwardly. “It’s just like any other sport.”
“No,” said Cindy, shaking her head. “Sports involves outdoors. This involves third graders absolutely butchering songs I used to like while I suffer educational PTSD from the smell of beans.”
Josh grimaced. “OK, well, we’re going to go,” he said.
“Have fun!” said Cindy cheerfully.
“I can’t believe she said that,” said Josh when they were out of the building and walking toward the pub. It was after five, so it was nearly dark already. Harper still wasn’t used to the short winter days of the Northwest.
“Said what?” asked Harper, trying to figure out what Cindy could have said.
“Any of that! I mean, she’s a mom! She can’t say stuff like that!”
“What was wrong with it?”
