Page 32 of Truth, Lies, and Second Dates
This is not what you should be focusing on.“Jan, what the hell am I supposed to do?”
“Drink more orange juice?”
“I don’t actually give a shit about the vitamin C thing, Jan!”
“Sorry.” The union rep let out a polite cough. “Just trying to lighten the mood.”
“The mood should not be lightened, Jan. At all.Whatis going on?”
“Well, you know how it goes. I got a call from the MRO*and your drop wasn’t clean.”
“That’s putting it mildly,” Ava muttered.
“I’ve never seen anything like it,” Jan admitted. “I’m pretty sure there are full-on meth addicts who don’t have as many drugs in their system as you do right now.”
“Jesus Christ! Jan, I’m aware that most people who flunk a drug test instantly insist the lab must have made a mistake, but I’m telling you, the lab must have made a mistake!”
“Pretty big one.”
“I know how it sounds. But I swear I’m telling the truth. If I was rocking on weedandcokeandmethandPCPandecstasyandPCPand… uh…”
“Benzos and oxy.”
“Right! If I was high to my eyeballs on all that, don’t you think someone would have noticed?”
“Yes.”
“Look, I don’t care what we have to—wait, you’re agreeing?”
“Yes.” Jan lowered her voice. “Ava, I’m willing to bet my reputation that it’s a mistake. I mean… c’mon. That’s just a ridiculous amount of drugs. I know you had a problem waywayback in the day, but you’ve never flunked one of thesein all the time you’ve been working here. Hell, I remember when you self-reported eating a non-pot brownie. You said it was so good itmightbe laced with something. That’s how careful you are.”
“That was a good brownie,” Ava admitted. Moist, but with chewy outer edges and yummy and dense.Twokinds of chocolate… mmm. Which wasn’t relevant. But Jan’s tactwas. Especially since “you had a problem back in the day” could also be described as “when you were barely old enough to vote, you were so hooked on Ambien you needed eight a night to sleep.”
“Obviously, we’re going to run another test ASAP. But… you know the rules.”
“Yeah.” Company policy—any dicey test results = grounded for seventy-two hours. Minimum.
“You’re still at MSP, yes?”
“Don’t remind me.”
“Right. Well, stay put for a bit. There are two DOT-compliant NIDA labs in the area—Hastings and Cottage Grove. You know the area, right?”
“I grew up here.” Hastings was a charming river town about twenty minutes away from Saint Paul. If shehadto be in Minnesota, she could tolerate Hastings for the access to Emily’s Bakery if nothing else.
Cottage Grove was where she and Danielle had lived. And where one of them had died. Cottage Grove.
“I’ll get you an appointment wherever’s quickest for another test,” Jan was saying, “and we’ll go from there.”
“Okay, Jan. Thanks so much. Sorry for all the screaming. I know you didn’t want to be the bearer of bad tidings.”
“Actually, I get off on it. And it would have been weird if you hadn’t screamed. That is a shit ton of drugs.”
“Your delicate way with words is always an inspiration.”
Ava hung up, still freaked but relieved Jan believed her and was being accommodating. Her cynical side pointed out that Northeastern Southwest had no interest in letting the world find out Captain Bellyflopper was possibly a raging meth/weed/coke/PCP/benzo/oxy/ecstasy/PCP addict. But whatever the reason, she was grateful.
And now that she was temporarily grounded, she could help Tom. Which shouldnothave cranked her heart rate, but there you go. Or maybe it was the fake meth making her pulse spike. Either way, she had more calls to make.
