Beginning, Section II, Next Section

Part 4: Real Work

Posted on Monday, 27 November 2000

"Hey, Lindsey, did you hear about your brother's defensive tactics yesterday?" I asked her as we drove to work one morning.

"No...you mean in regards to Carol Ann?"

"Yep, it was great!" I replied gleefully. "I mean, you would have thought it was a reenactment of World War I trench warfare or something. He even hid in the freezer room during his lunch because he had it at the same time as Carol. Only my opinion, but that is seriously desperate. Another hour and he probably would have started building fortifications out of jars of applesauce."

Lindsey regarded me coolly out of dark hazel green eyes. "Well, not quite, but it was bad," I amended.

"I can imagine...Will never told me any of this, but then that's hardly surprising." She smiled. "Although Colin...you were the one who choked -- literally -- because of Carol, the Saturday before last, was it?"

"Hey!" I said defensively. "She's scary! I haven't been that terrified since eighth grade when Louisa Musgrove was stalking me."

"Yes, I remember that well," Lindsey smirked.

I glared at her, then, more seriously, began, "Lindsey... Will is really falling apart. I mean, between Carol Ann coming back and -- ahhhh... yeah, well, he's got a lot on his mind I suppose..."

"Colin?" Lindsey asked me. "What's the other thing?"

"Ahhh..." I hedged, "no single thing really. Just stress," I said, reiterating my answer to Elizabeth Benedict on the Austen-fest Sunday.

Lindsey looked vaguely disappointed. (Hmmm... a good sign?) "Okay... I thought maybe... never mind."

I watched her thoughtfully. If Lindsey agreed with me, that would make things infinitely easier. Excellent. Hmmm... now where might she come in? I was assailed by doubts as to whether I should be trying to engineer this thing at all. I certainly knew that neither of the principles concerned would be pleased with me if they knew what I was doing. But then, if I didn't at least try to do something, it seemed likely nothing would ever happen. And after all, what would be the harm in trying? The worst thing that could happen, I reasoned, would be no change at all.

"Oh, I've got some more news for you," I recalled as we entered the store. "And I think everyone will find his return considerably more welcome than Carol's -- Lou Micelli is coming back."

"Ah, good. I like Lou," Lindsey smiled.

"ARGH! I hate Lou!!!" exploded a voice behind us. Lindsey and I whirled around to face a very peeved Carley Charleston. As we stared at her, she stormed past, heels clicking indignantly against the floor. "Arrogant, self-important jerk," she muttered.

"What's with her?" I questioned.

Lindsey shrugged. "Not a clue."

"Mmm-hmm. Well, they offered Lou the Service Manager position in Princeton, but he decided to come back so he could be closer to his kids now that everything's running smoothly down there."

Lindsey nodded. "When's he coming back?"

"I think sometime next week." Lou had been transferred to New Jersey a few months ago to help get a new store started. He's about thirty-three, divorced with two small children, and notwithstanding Carley's censure, a generally nice guy.

"That'll be good for George," Lindsey added. "He's been really overloaded." George Knight is the Front-End Manager of the store, our direct supervisor. Before his transfer, Lou was one of the Service Team Leaders, George's second in command. A step above George is Chris Branford, the Service Manager. It's a curious hierarchy, but it works.

"And good for Julie, too," I added as she walked past. Julie Bedwell is another Team Leader -- which means she gets to boss me around. Trust me, it's a privilege she exercizes thoroughly and often.

"What's good for me?" she demanded suspiciously.

"Lou is coming back."

"Ah, that will be good. Of course, providing he hasn't gotten cocky and forgotten who's really in charge here..."

"George?" I hazarded.

"Me."

"'Course."

"Don't mess with Julie," Lindsey reminded me, unnecessarily.

"I know!"

"You know, Colin..." Julie began deviously, "this morning it's me, Liz, Carly, Linz...you're the only guy in here until this afternoon."

"Ack! What've you all got planned for me??!?!!!"

"You get to do all the stuff we don't want to do," said Lindsey cheerfully.

"Right," agreed Julie. "For example, you see that coffee spill over there?" I nodded warily. Julie continued, "It's waiting for you."

"Seriously?"

"You better believe it."

"Where are the maintenance guys?"

"They're all busy doing REAL WORK somewhere else in the store. ...The mop is right here, Mr. Wesley..."

"Okay, okay! I'm going! ...By the way... did I tell you, you look lovely this morning, Julie?"

"GO!"

"As always, of course," I grinned, walking backward.

"Colin..."

"Julie..."

"I'm a good five years older than you -- "

"So what?"

" -- and I'm married" she finished, brandishing her wedding ring at me.

"Oh yeah...Wait, he's an engineer, right? Come on, I can take an engineer!" Lindsey giggled again.

"Run along," said Julie patiently.

I gave up and turned around, nearly colliding with Kristen Benedict, who smiled up at me. "Trying charm your way out of doing real work, Colin?"

"Mea culpa." I looked at her. As I've said before, she's improved vastly in the last few years since coming out from behind the shadow of her younger sister Lynda (UGH!). ...And now that I think of it, remarkably pretty...light brown eyes, golden-brown hair...hmmm...As I mopped, she continued to talk to me in her cute, cheerful, high voice.

"Hey, know what?" she exclaimed after a few minutes conversation.

"Yeah?"

"I got promoted! Well, sorta."

"How sorta?"

"Well, some days I'll still be in the accounting office, but more days I'm running."

"Yeah? Great!"

"Andy got promoted too; he's going to be managing most days too, officially, not just when they need someone extra."

"I bet you're glad to get out of the accounting office."

"Yeah... I did a cartwheel when I found out," Kristy admitted. I grinned. It was so like her. "It drives them crazy," she confided. "They hate me because I'm so nice. I swear."

"I believe you," I said grimly. Most of the people in the accounting office are pretty snippety. "Ever seen Kim's imitations of some of them? It's quality stuff, I've got to say. And Kate says that she knocks, waits a few minutes, knocks again, and when they finally open it, they yell at her for knocking twice, even though, as Kate absolutely insists, no one has been doing much anyway."

Kristy smiled. "That's true. And they really don't like me. They hate that I keep being nice no matter what they do."

"Hey, you've got to be mean every now and then! You know, give a little of what you take."

Kristy shook her head. "No, that wouldn't work. Just make it worse, probably. Besides, I can't!"

"You can't?!? You have some kind of block? Just have to be nice?!?!?"

"Hey, sorry, but I'm not going to be like them. They're so spiteful and malicious...And just because it's the accounting office doesn't mean many reasonably intelligent people work there. I mean, Lynda is in there sometimes." She stopped and looked guilty. "I shouldn't say that, there are some people -- no, maybe a lot, I don't know -- who are fine. It's just those few that get to me, I guess." She made a wry face. "Hey, Colin, I guess I can be mean! That sounded pretty spiteful and malicious to me..."

"No! You're right, don't feel bad."

Kristy looked over my shoulder and touched me on the arm. "Hey, you better go answer that light." She pointed.

I sighed. "Fine..."

As she went back into the accounting office, Kristy called over her shoulder, "Real work."

After taking care of a small credit card problem, I joined Julie at the runners' desk. "Hey, did you see who was talking to me?" I demanded.

"Nice," she replied, looking over the schedule.

"She always stops and talks to me!"

"Mmm-hmm..." Julie erased a name from the task list and replaced it. Really, she could pretend at least a little more interest.

"And I'm just thinking, 'Marry me,'" I finished, loudly. (So, you think you can make me shut up by ignoring me, do you, Julie?)

"You? Marry?" asked Lindsey sarcastically, who had apparently heard the entire one-sided conversation between me and Julie. I hadn't seen her.

"Hey, some day, hon."

"I'll be waiting," she retorted coolly.

"So critical this morning..." Lindsey ignored me, walking towards the nether-region of the single-digit registers, most of them reserved this morning for Ben Palmer's training class. I trotted after her, with the vague hope that she may be heading towards "Real Work." Julie had been giving me quite a persistent glare. "She's pretty, isn't she?" I asked thoughtfully. "Kristy, I mean."

"Very," said Lindsey shortly.

"Hi Lindsey, Colin." Ben sat on the back of register 3, swinging his legs and shuffling through some papers.

"Nice tie, Ben," Lindsey replied. Everyone remarks on Ben's ties, which are highly original, to say the least.

Ben grinned and rubbed his hands gleefully. "New trainee group today. Fresh blood."

"Oh yeah?" I asked. "Well, don't scare 'em right away. We save that for later, when it's too late to escape."

"Boys, boys, boys," said Lindsey, collecting the reshops from the last few terminals and putting them in a shopping basket. "When are they coming?"

"It starts at nine, so just about ten minutes or so." Ben looked through his stack of papers. "Whoa, this is a big group -- six -- I might need Carol Ann's help some days," he added with a resigned sigh.

"Have fun," I told him, following Lindsey to the nearby reshop area.

"This is a mess," she said, shaking her head at the wire bin. "Who did this?" She began separating the contents into the proper compartments. "Soap does not go in the cereal bin! This is ridiculous!"

"Okay okay, calm down."

Lindsey took several items out of the bin and put them in a shopping cart, shoving it towards me with what I considered to be unnecessary force. What did I do??!? "Go reshop these perishables. I can't believe someone made such a mess out of this!"

"Hey, it happens a lot. Relax."

"Shut up!"

"Sorry?"

"You're making me nervous. Stop saying 'Relax, calm down,'" she mimicked me sarcastically and not very happily.

Oh dear. What did I do??!?!!!!!

"Okayyyy...well, you know that it isn't terribly unusual for the reshop area to be disorganized..."

"Yeah, when it's really busy and everyone is working and on weekends and before Thanksgiving and maybe if there's really important football that afternoon --" (WHAT is she talking about?!???) " -- and... picnic days... or grilling days -- " (???!!??) " -- and...you know, days like that. No excuse whatsoever this morning. Look at everyone! Half the cashiers aren't even busy now; there are definitely enough people doing reshops, I saw the schedule."

"I don't know, maybe it was Carol. She would do something like that, especially if she's in a snit for some reason -- hey, with her there usually isn't a reason. You're taking care of it now, so it's fine. Okay? I'm going to take these back."

"Thanks, Colin," Lindsey mumbled, resorting the reshops feverishly. (At least she wasn't talking so fast anymore.) I set off, hoping Lindsey's testy mood (whatever had caused it) would have dissipated by the time I returned.

When, with not a little trepidation, I came back to the reshop area, Michelle was helping (and calmly,might I add) Lindsey return the bins to some semblance of order and sort the reshops into carts and baskets to be taken back. As Shem, a college freshman, is a competent and (usually) rational person, I decided that the spontaneous combustion of Lindsey would not be in order. I consider that a good thing.

Ben's trainees were receiving their summer uniform shirts from the accounting office. The last in line was highly indignant to discover that only the pink shirts were left. Not just pink, but bright, electric, Carol Ann's second favorite color pink. He turned to a girl with a neon green shirt. "Can't you trade with me?" he whined. She shook her head no, biting back a smirk. I decided to be helpful and intervene.

"Hey, suck it up! Real men aren't afraid to wear pink!"

Lindsey poked her head around the corner, laughing. "Like you, Colin?" she asked, looking pointedly at my bright blue shirt.

Hmmm. Granted, though I had several years of Wegmans T-shirts, not one was pink. I thought for a minute. "Well... you know... only as a last resort." I turned to the boy again. "Summer uniforms are only for another week or two anyway."

"And then what?" he asked doubtfully.

"Well, you wear your white uniform shirt --"

"With the little black buttons?"

"Yes," I said patiently. "And the black apron. I crack out my ties and dress shirts again."

"Woohoo," said Lindsey around the corner.

"'Scuse me?" I asked. She shook her head and smiled very sweetly. (Be worried!)

"Oh." Ben herded his class to the grand tour of the store.

I peered around the corner. "So... you've decided you like me again?" I asked Lindsey with a smile.

"Wellll..."

"I'll like you too if you don't make me go back outside," said Shem, beaming at me hopefully.

"You're doing Helping Hands this morning?"

"Yeah. But Richard thought Lindsey looked like she needed some help, and it's pretty slack outside, so he sent me in." The Helping Hands collect carts from the parking lot, walk customers who need help to their cars, load groceries for the drive-up service, and basically try to keep the parking lot in order. (Ha!)

"Richard is managing outside?" I asked.

"Yep, Sean has the day off... he probably wouldn't have let me come in, but Richard said "Sure!'"

"Ahhhh...so coming is was your idea, was it, Michelle?"

"Um. Well, Lindsey needed help! And Richard said I could! Actually, I was helping him direct, mostly, but trust me, he has it under control, it isn't busy at all, they have more than enough people out there, and..."

"Richard is spoiling you guys," I grumbled. "Now they think I'm mean 'cause they're comparing me to him."

"Colin?" said Lindsey.

"Yes?"

"Stop whining."

"...Yes."

"It's nice out now, but it's supposed to be really hot and humid and icky this afternoon," Shem explained. "And it's all fifteen year olds out there today!"

"So much the better, I would have thought you would like that. They're all in awe of you. Hey, especially if you're helping Richard manage -- you get to be boss lady. That's fun, right?"

"Please, Colin? Pleeeeeeeease?"

"Well..." I considered. "The Service Desk could use another person this morning, don't you think, Lindsey?" Michelle is a very versatile person.

"Oh, yes, I think so," she agreed, darting an comprehending look at me. Lindsey always understands what I mean. I love it.

"Aaaand...we have a few too many people on register now, maybe... Billy could replace Shem outside..."

"Yes!" exclaimed Elizabeth emphatically, who had just joined us. "He just came less than an hour ago -- LATE! AGAIN!!! -- and he's already driving me crazy. He doesn't know how to do ANYTHING!!! And he keeps making me come over because he doesn't know what the produce is. 'These are CUCUMBERS! No, NOT green squash, cucumbers!!!! CUCUMBERS!!!!!!!! Code number 4062 -- no, Billy, you can't scan it, sorry. That's only the WRAPPED CUCUMBERS. You can tell the difference because those DO have a sticker on them, and, oh yeah, they are WRAPPED in plastic. No! NO! No, Billy, there isn't weight on CUCUMBERS!!!!!!!! It's QUANTITY. You have to COUNT them!!! COUNT!!! Personally, I believe there are three; you may have other ideas. Wouldn't recommend it, though.' Get that BOY outside!"

I gazed at Elizabeth with no small amount of alarm (and possibly just a bit of terror). "Calm thoughts, calm thoughts," I told her anxiously. Hopefully Lizzy wouldn't find the idea of calmness and relaxation as repugnant as Lindsey had. "All right, Shem, that's fine, you can work Service Desk."

Shem shrieked happily and hugged me. (Let it never be said that Shem's repertoire of competencies does not include a distinct talent for shrieking. Loudly.) "Thank you!!!!!!!!!!" she chirped. "I love you!"

"Yeah, yeah, now you owe me," I called after her, though I doubt she heard me as she was nearly at the Service Desk.

I next very firmly put (almost physically, for Heaven's sake) Billy Burg outside, who whined piteously in protest and said I was "mean." (Tough.) "My mother will be very upset with you!" he contended. (Billy is twenty.)

Elizabeth watched, gloating. "Out you go, Billy! Have fun! Maybe we'll let you back in after you take your lunch! But I bet you really want to stay out all day..." she waved him off triumphantly. Gotta love a girl who's so open with her vengeance.

"Problem is," I told Liz, "if he dents someone's car with a shopping cart or something similarly stupid, we're gonna get sued."

"I'll risk it," she shrugged. "Cheaper than my sanity. I think Richard will be able to keep him under control anyway." Liz paused and looked at me critically. "Hey, Colin, can you do me a huge favor? Please?"

"What do you need?"

Elizabeth looked doubtful. "It's a sort of strange request...but there is a good reason behind it, I swear."

I was becoming slightly worried. On the other hand, it might be a breakthrough in the Willis J. Fitzdarcy department...hmmm...

"Can you just go and flirt with my sister for a few minutes? Please?"

I blinked. Not quite expecting that. "What?!?"

"It's work related!" Lizzy exclaimed.

"Kristy?" I asked hopefully.

"Kristy? Oh no, the problem isn't there."

"I am not flirting with Lynda," I interrupted flatly.

"Lynda?!?!?! Oh, no, no... Good God, why would I deliberately send someone to flirt with Lynda? She does quite enough on her own... well, much more than flirting, really..." Elizabeth's forehead began to pucker with worry.

"Ummm...why do you want me to flirt with Jen?" I inquired dubiously.

This time Elizabeth blinked. "Jen? When did I say anything about Jen?"

"Well, I assumed -- noooo...Lizzy...you can't mean --"

"Myra? Yes."

"Myra hates me!"

"Well," Lizzy began apologetically.

"Yes?"

"Try?"

"Nope. It ain't gonna work, missy."

"Please? Colin?"

"Hey, it's her, not me. She accuses me of promoting a 'fraudulent science.'"

Elizabeth thought this out. "What?"

"Economics. She insists that it's merely sociological fluff, not at all a real science. In her opinion, almost as bad as statistics and even" I lowered my voice, "political science. I insist that obviously, she has a dreadful misconception about economics that she simply refuses to do away with."

Liz shook her head. "Myra..." The second youngest Benedict sister is a junior at Rochester Institute of Technology, double majoring in organic chemistry and something else I don't even remember, just that I don't understand it. Myra had always hoped to go to a big name science school like MIT or CalTech, but she persistently denied the value of all subjects except those she deemed to be 'scientific.' Although she did have good grades in all subjects, Lizzy told me the quality of her college essays (They made her WRITE??? How DARE they!!!) alone would have been enough to keep her from being accepted to the first tier schools. As it was, she only just squeaked into RIT. Mrya has never been a very errr... social person, but this experience only made her worse.

"Sooo...what's she doing this morning?" I inquired.

"The usual Myra stuff. Snapping at customers, glaring, being generally rude... not just to customers, either -- Julie told me she made Cathy Morrisland cry, and when she went to talk to her about it, Myra was rude to her as well. That was probably the last straw -- right after that Julie asked me to try to get Myra to snap out of it."

"I see...but I still don't understand where I come in."

Liz looked at me imploringly. "Please, Colin? Just go talk to her for a few minutes... you've got this way about you... you can make women smile, put them in a better mood, almost involuntarily."

I was about to protest that this useful faculty (if it even existed) would not work with Myra Benedict when Lizzy's last word struck my curiosity. "Involuntarily for who? Me or them?"

Liz grinned. "Heh...I was thinking them, but I don't know, sometimes I think it's involuntary for you, too. Natural. Like a reflex."

"Hmmm."

"Hmm. ...So, will you do it?"

"Liz!"

"Come on, Colin, what's the worst that can happen?"

"She will completely and utterly humiliate me? In front of lots of people, including those I am supposed to supervise and thus it would be advisable to maintain some of my dignity in front of them..."

"Really, Colin...."

"She will! She will! Lizzy, you have no idea -- she'll blow me off and make some snide comment and yell at me and I'll end up looking like the most ridiculous fool -- yes, I will, Lizzy. You know it."

"You're being ridiculous now, Colin. Stop being such a wimp. Just go talk to her, okay?"

"Lizzy! I tell you, she can't stand me! I'm not in any mood to have things thrown at me! It's just not that day!"

Elizabeth's argumentativeness abated for a moment as she smiled. "No, Colin... actually, I think it's Lindsey who's likely to be throwing things at you... at least that's what it seems like to me this morning..."

I rubbed my forehead. "Yeah, that's true," I muttered. (What did I do?!?)

"So see, it could be a lot worse. Myra will not throw anything at you, I swear. She'll just..." Liz sighed and gave up. "All right, fine, Myra will just completely and utterly humiliate you."

"You see?"

"Couldn't you just try?" she pleaded. "I have to do something with her. I swear, Julie is this close to sending her home. And she might give her a written warning for this -- I mean, she made Cathy Morrisland cry! That nice little girl... so it's not that I don't believe Myra deserves it, but..."

"Lizzy," I said gently. "It's not your problem. It's not your fault. And Lynda's behavior isn't your fault, either."

"But --"

It seemed something more serious was in question. Discreetly, I led Lizzy into a sheltered area along the wall.

"They are your sisters, I know. And you worry about them. But sometimes you just can't do anything about people. It will only frustrate you to try. Maybe it will even make the situation worse, maybe not. Just remember... no one sees their behavior as a reflection on you, or Jen, or Kristy."

"Yeah, that's what you think," Elizabeth said bitterly.

"Lizzy, I'm sure that no one -- no, Lizzy, that is what I know."

Liz looked unconvinced, but shifted the subject.

"Plus, they need these jobs. They need the money, my parents can't pay for everything themselves. Your parents are both doctors -- let's be honest, they have a lot more money than mine -- but you and Susan and Fletch still worked through college." Elizabeth closed her eyes and breathed deeply in frustration. "You have no idea how close both of them are to getting fired..."

"Would you like me to talk to her?" I asked. "I will if you want me to. I don't know how much I can do, maybe not much, but I'll try. Really. It's not a problem."

"...Naaah, you're right. She'll just make a fuss, create even more problems."

"Maybe someone else? Richard is outside, everyone likes Richard. Maybe he could..." I stopped, remembering. "Wait, never mind --"

"Myra detests even Richard, too," Liz finished gloomily. "I know."

"I'm afraid so. Doesn't this girl like anyone?"

Liz shook her head. "I'm beginning to think not..."

"Well, I'll keep an eye on her. Hey, maybe I can humiliate myself prominently, that might make her happy."

Liz laughed shakily. "Yes, it might."

I suspected that Elizabeth, consciously or not, had never intended me to mollify her sister, but instead needed to unburden a few worries. I leaned over. "Hey, are you okay?" I asked quietly.

Liz looked up at me and blushed. "Oh, fine. No problem."

"Sure?"

"Yeah, don't worry. Sorry I've wasted so much of your time..."

"Come on, did it really look like I was doing anything productive?"

She laughed, more heartily this time. "No, that's true."

Julie walked up to us. "I have to do some paperwork. Can two keep an eye on things while I'm in the office? Both Lindsey and Carly are busy with other things so you two will have to keep everything running."

Liz assumed Julie's place at the runners' desk while I went to answer the flashing light on register 10. Kate was eyeing her printer sourly. "Stuck. Again," she informed me succinctly.

I flipped open the printer. (Flipped perhaps implies too much easy -- this thing has to be pried.) "What are you doing to this thing?" I asked, taking out the icot slip that had gotten caught and realigning the gears of the printer.

"Me?" Kate exclaimed. "Colin! This is 10! The printer always does this stuff! It's possessed, I swear."

"All right. But gently, okay? This is what, the third time today I've had to fix this for you?"

"Yeah, but you have no idea how many times the slip wouldn't go through or I've had to do a reprint, all the demonic printer stuff."

"Gently."

Walking to the Service Desk, I discovered Kate was not the only one experiencing mechanical difficulties. Maureen Willard, Jack's younger sister was poised over her computer, hands outspread.

"Deep breath, restrain yourself from smashing it," I advised.

Mo looked up at me. "Hey, Colin." She glanced over my shoulder, watching Ben and his class pass by. "New training group, eh? I bet you anything those girls are going to be lusting after my brother as soon as he gets here," she smirked.

"They always do..." I replied.

"And for good reason," said an emphatic voice behind my back. Surprised, I turned to see Lindsey.

"Yeah?"

"Yes," she said very firmly.

"Oh," I remarked meekly. "Why, I wonder?"

Lindsey considered. "I think it's the almost-too-good-looking-for-his-own-good element."

"...oh. What element do I have?" I wondered.

Lindsey tilted her head and looked at me. "Easygoing but considerate charmer..." she concluded. She smiled and was gone as suddenly as she reappeared. I felt oddly relieved. It was comforting to know that Lindsey still thought well of me, despite whatever that had been this morning. (What did I do?)

I turned back to the Service Desk to find Mo watching me, in what looked like amusement. "Hey, whatcha smiling about?"

She shook her head. "Never mind."

I raised my eyebrows. "Oh really. Hey, I haven't seen you around in the last few weeks."

"I went home to Michigan for a few weeks before school started again."

"Ah, well I'm glad you're back. Missed you."

"I'm sure," said Mo with an amused look.

"You are very important in my life!" I insisted.

Mo laughed. "Yeah, along with how many others, Colin?"

"Hey, I resent that!"

She shook her head. "You are incorrigible."

"Last year of college, eh?" I asked.

Mo sighed. "Yes, but then years of Medical school... and that's just the beginning."

"Colin, pick up on 310," Lizzy announced.

Mo looked at me expectantly. I waved it off. "What are you planning to do?" I asked her.

"Pediatrics."

"My father is a pediatrician! My mother's a surgeon."

"Really? What kind?"

"Colin! Pick up on 310."

"Cardiology."

"Colin Wesley, pick up on 310 or come to the runners' desk," persisted Lizzy's impatient voice over the PA system.

"You better pick up," said Mo doubtfully.

"I will, just a sec," I reassured her. Suddenly I frowned as I thought of something. "Hey Mo..." I leaned over conspiratorially.

"Colin Wesley! Pick up on 310 -- NOW!

"Colin..."

"Your brother..." I asked. "Maybe you wouldn't know, but is he thinking about..." I frowned again.

"Yes???"

"Ahhh..." Blast! Why was this so difficult? "Do you have any idea if Jack is ahhhh... interested in --" I stopped. "Hmm... um, some girl here?" I concluded lamely.

Mo blinked innocently at me. "Just any random girl?" she asked.

"Welllllll... No. not exactly, you see..."

"Colin Richard Wesley!!!" Lizzy almost screamed.

Mo slammed her hand down. "Go."

I reached into my back pocket and discovered I did not have a phone with me. (Of all the inconvenient times...) I passed through the Service Desk gate to the other side of the counter, where mo handed me one of their phones. "Yes?" I asked cautiously.

"COLIN!!! Get your skinny little rear over here RIGHT NOW!!!" Elizabeth fumed.

"Ma'am." I hung up and hurried over.

Liz was simmering. "WHAT were you doing?"

"Talking to Mo?"

"When I call you, that means come. NOW!"

"Sorry..."

"They need you over at the cafe. Then come back and see me, I want to talk to you."

Sounds like somebody's been taking lessons from Julie. I proceeded obediently to the cafe, took care of the problem, and then proceeded back. "Now what?"

Liz reddened slightly. "I want to talk to you about something..."

"Yes? Do you want me to baby-sit Lynda now?" I teased.

"Ha ha. No...actually, this is about..." she blushed. "Will."

"Will??!?"

"Well yes, Will."

"He works here," I observed. "Also, he is Lindsey's brother. And he lives next door to my parents."

"I know," said Lizzy, a trifle impatiently.

"He is also twice a cousin by marriage. Betcha didn't know that."

"Actually, I DID."

"Well, really more like one and a half times, because there's his Uncle Gardiner and my Aunt Phyllis, but Camilla and Clarence are divorced."

"COLIN!"

"What?"

"How is this relevant to what I'm asking you??"

"Lizzy... you haven't asked me anything yet."

She was silent. "You haven't given me a chance to yet."

I sighed. "Okay, shoot."

"Will."

"Yes."

"He's -- he's... what's he -- does he... is he --" Lizzy stumbled.

I was perplexed. Yes, this was certainly a development in the Willis J. Fitzdarcy department... but I suddenly remembered that -- technically -- I had no plan. Which was a problem. And Liz certainly wasn't helping anything. Desperately, I wished Lindsey would come. Maybe she would know what to do. "Lizzy?"

She didn't seem to hear me for a minute. Then snapping out of her daze, she said, "Um, Colin... never mind. Sorry. Maybe some other time." She left rapidly to answer some nonexistent flashing light. I watched her, puzzled. I needed something to drink.

I grabbed a Mountain Dew from the cooler and walked into the opposite lane. There being a dearth of customers, Kimmie was reading Pride and Prejudice. Looking up, she saw me and made a face. I made a face back. "Ring this up for me. Freak."

She stuck her tongue out.

"That now, that was truly mature."

"Dork," she retorted. "Are you sure Julie will let you have this much caffeine on the job?" she inquired, eyeing the Mountain Dew speculatively.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm of age."

"One - oh - three."

"Oh...I think I'm going to write a check..."

"COLIN!!!" she screeched.

"Nahhh, I'll do a debit card."

Kimmie rolled her eyes. I slid the card through the machine, too slowly for it to process correctly. "Oh, now you'll have to type it in," I handed the card to her with an innocent smile.

"It says you have NO money in your account," declared Kimmie,

"No it doesn't," I replied calmly. Sulking, she took out an icot slip. "Twenty over," I added. "One ten, a five, four ones, three quarters, two dimes, and a nickel," I continued as the printer processed the icot. Kimmie glared at me. "Thank you," I said nicely as she shoved my money at me. "Brat."

"Idiot!"

"Psycho."

"Jerk."

"Hey, I could have asked for pennies too."

Kimmie stuck her tongue out again, then turned to happier contemplations. "Is Will coming today?" she demanded.

"Nope, sorry."

Kimmie sighed. "He is sooooo..." she gestured dramatically and sank against the partition. On the other side of the partition, at the next register, Kate snickered. Until her printer jammed again, that is.

"Colin!"

"Coming, coming... you kill me, Kate."

"Sorry!"

"All right. I'm going to teach you how to do this. Ready to learn?" I asked, taking out the jammed icot slip.

Kate nodded, while protesting. "I DO know how to do it!"

"That may be. But you have to be GENTLE. Machines are temperamental. Watch." Carefully, I inserted another icot slip and pressed did the reprint procedure. The printer spit the slip back out at me. Kate gave me a reproachful 'see what I mean?' look.

"Machines are temperamental," I reiterated, patiently repeating the whole procedure. "I did my college thesis on it. Machines are temperamental," I muttered. "Machines are temperamental and women are temperamental."

I choose to believe that it is merely a coincidence that Kate stepped on my foot at that moment. "What?" demanded Kimmie. I handed the customer his receipt and slip copy, then turned to Kimmie. Kate watched with raised eyebrows and a skeptical expression.

"I like women -- " Kimmie snorted. "Yes, thank you. However, women are temperamental. I have observed that. Women are temperamental and jealous."

Kimmie snorted again. "Everyone is jealous."

"I have my faults, but honestly, I'm never jealous. Women are more jealous than men."

"You're never jealous? I can't believe that," Kimmie scoffed.

Suddenly I noticed Lindsey leaning on the back of Kate's terminal, listening to us. "Except Lindsey," I added, putting my arm around her affectionately.

"Except Lindsey what?" Kimmie asked.

"Lindsey's too good a sport to be jealous. I know it."

"So to be a good sport you can't be jealous?" Lindsey inquired.

"No, but... I can tell."

The dark hazel eyes looked up at me steadily. "Sure?"

"Perfectly."

When I drove Lindsey to her house after work, my father was already home next door. "Hey Dad!" I called to him.

He looked up from Richard III and set his iced tea down. "Colin!" He put down the book, pushed his glasses up on his nose, and energetically proceeded to talk to us about gardening for several minutes. The hose was in the mulch alongside the house, watering some of the many rosebushes. "Oh dear," said my father, looking up, and started across the front lawn.

Lindsey and I watched, confused at first, then saw that the Foremont baby had run off again. My father picked up the toddler and carried her down the street, where Mrs. Foremont was shouting "Jessie! Jessie!" Lindsey and I shrugged at each other and wandered into the Fitzdarcy backyard.

Lindsey sat down in the warm grass. "You really are annoying..."

I sat down next to her. "Well, I told Kimmie and Kate they could close down and answer lights, so they were happy. Pretty slow today anyway."

"Uh-huh," Lindsey murmured, stretching out. She plucked aimlessly at tiny lavender flowers in the grass. Van Morrison wafted outside from Will's open office window.

"Colin? What'd you mean about jealousy?"

"It's been my observation that women are more jealous than men. ...You're not, though."

"...Oh. Okay." Lindsey's voice was muffled. I rolled onto my back and stared at the clouds, then, feeling drowsy, rolled over again.

Days Like This, Van Morrison

Part 5: Doubles Match

Posted on Saturday, 2 December 2000

(Elizabeth)

I pulled into the Fitzdarcy a little before six. Next door, James Wesley was on his knees, pulling weeds out of the front lawn. I greeted my childhood pediatrician.

"Hello, Elizabeth! How are you?"

"Quite well, thank you. Your gardens look lovely," I added, peering around the side of the house. "And especially the roses -- splendid!"

He beamed. "Thank you, my dear! Yes, and so late in the season, 'tis quite remarkable." Dr. Wesley is a gardening freak and is especially proud of his roses. He gave me a guided tour, then broke off, noting my attire and racquet. "Tennis this evening? Ah, well, I won't detain you any longer, Lizzy." Glancing at his watch, he added, "and I must start dinner soon -- Rebecca shall be home any minute. Do join us for dinner, if you like. We won't be eating until eight and we are sure to have plenty extra. Rebecca would love to have you over."

"Thanks. I'm not sure when we'll be done, though, so don't hold anything."

Dr. Wesley smiled wryly, then added, "Don't ask me what we're having because I still have to figure that out."

I laughed. Dr. Wesley is known to be highly inventive, and surprisingly successful, in the kitchen.

Reaching Lindsey's backyard, I uttered a groan, looking at the two heaps with a mixture of exasperation and amusement. Lindsey and Colin were sprawled across the sunny grass, fast asleep.

I sighed. They looked so cute -- like sleeping puppies -- I almost hated to wake them up. "Lindsey," I said softly. I bent over. "Linz..." She turned her head slightly, then slowly opened her eyes.

"Lizzy?" she blinked. Her eyes opened wider and focused. "Ohhhh... tennis... I forgot..." She sat up and looked around vaguely. Colin, his long limbs splayed every which way, didn't move. Lindsey dragged herself over to him and poked his shoe. No response. She pulled herself closer and tugged at his shirt.

"Colin... Colin..."

With a sleepy little mumble, he rolled over and blinked open his eyes. "Wha...?'"

I waved my tennis racquet over his head.

"Ehhh? Ohhh." He sat up. "Sorry Lizzy. Slipped my mind."

Lindsey and Colin now sat next to each other in the grass, blinking vaguely and looking expectantly at me like a pair of three year olds. I rolled my eyes. "So, you two going to do anything?"

They looked at each other. Lindsey blinked. Colin blinked. "Oh." Almost simultaneously, they scrambled to their feet, and Colin dashed into his parents' house. "Be right out, Lizzy, just going to change."

"Sorry, Liz, we fell asleep," Lindsey apologised before going into her house.

I sighed. "It's fine, we're early anyway I suppose, because Jack didn't get out of work until quarter before six."

I wandered around the Fitzdarcy backyard while I waited. About once or twice a week in the summer, Colin, Lindsey, Jack, and I play doubles tennis in the high school courts, which are about five minutes from Lindsey's house. Sometimes Jen, Carly, Bing, Andy, Kristy, and even Will come along, but it's usually just the four of us.

I looked up towards the source of the music. The window of Will's office. I snorted. Much as I like Lindsey, her brother is one of the most maddening people I have ever met. Merely tolerable indeed. I heard the back screen door of the house open then close. I turned, expecting to see Lindsey -- drat, Will.

"Liz," he said. I waited. Apparently this was all.

"Yes?" I inquired shortly. Might as well force him to say something to me.

Will looked a bit alarmed. "Ahhh... tennis?" he managed finally.

"Obviously."

"...Yes." He began wandering around the driveway in a nervous manner, often looking my way and occasionally opening his mouth as though he meant to say something, but never did. I felt impatient. If he had come outside to talk to me, why didn't he? Or if he didn't intend to talk to me, why did he in the first place? And if he didn't come out to talk to me, why did he? Why? Why? Why? Why? Argh. Maddening man.

"Mind if I come along?" he queried unexpectedly.

I was surprised, but rallied. "We already have four."

"No -- I meant just to watch."

"I don't see why not," I replied, not quite graciously.

Will gave what appeared to be a little smile. What? A smile? From him??? "Thank you. I've been cooped up in my office all day long. I'm working on this new program -- you see, it -- "

"Spare me," I interrupted. "I hate computers." Actually, I don't, but I had lost most of the work for a column I was writing when my computer crashed this morning, I was not in the most congenial mood towards the dastardly things.

Will seemed taken aback. "I -- I'm sorry," he mumbled, and resumed doddering about the driveway. After a few moments of highly uncomfortable silence (I was feeling just a bit contrite for being so harsh...), Lindsey came out of the house and began scrounging around for tennis balls in the garage. A minute later, Colin reappeared, dressed in what I recognised as his high school gym clothes.

"What?" he asked defensively. "I don't have much stuff left at my parents' house."

"I didn't say anything," I shrugged, but when he turned his back I entertained myself by reading the virtues of ice hockey as listed by his tee-shirt.

"Ready, Linz?" Colin asked, taking tennis balls from her.

"Yep, those are all I could find."

"He's coming with us," I remarked, nodding my head towards Will, who was staring off in abstraction.

"Will!!!!!!!!!!!" Lindsey screamed, rousing him. "We're going now!!!" Lindsey sometimes gets a bit overexcited. when we play tennis.

"I'm coming," he said patiently.

When we arrived at the tennis courts, Jack was practicing serves against the wall. "Hey hey, beat you," he smirked.

"There was a bit of... confusion," I replied. With his dark hair and intensely blue eyes, Jack is very Irishly handsome. Add his low baritone voice and deadpan humor, and it's not unreasonable that makes your knees go weak and your stomach feel quite pleasantly squishy. It seems a bit of a waste, since he's not really my type. I suppose someone else will have to have him. And I think...

"Lizzy!"

"Coming, coming."

Jack glanced doubtfully at Will, who was wearing khakis and a polo shirt. All this for working at home. "He's just here to watch," I said.

"Ahhhh."

Whenever the four of us play, we always have the same teams: me and Jack against Lindsey and Colin. While playing, I often glanced over at the bench at the side to find, to my irritation, that Will was watching me intently. Humph. So what standards of his wasn't I meeting this time? After playing three sets (two them, one us), I motioned the others to join me at the net. "Let's switch it around a little," I suggested.

"Me and Linz against you and Colin?" asked Jack.

"Yeah -- "

"Why?" Colin protested. "We always play this way."

"Exactly," I resumed. "Why not try something different? And don't interrupt me, Wesley."

"Right, we always play this way 'cause it works. What are you thinking, Liz?"

"All right by you two?" I asked Jack and Lindsey.

"Okay," replied Lindsey.

"No problem," said Jack, eyeing Colin.

Colin looked distinctly displeased. "Really, I didn't know you were such a traditionalist," I told him sarcastically.

"I'm not! I'm not!"

"Then...?"

"I just don't see the point! We've always done it like this, it works fine it --"

"I'm hearing status quo all over this argument --"

"No! No! It doesn't have anything to do with that! Just why --" Colin spluttered.

"Why? Why are you behaving like a four year old?" This was getting ridiculous. Lindsey and Jack were already on the other side of the net, tactfully trying to ignore us. "I can't believe you're making this much fuss over a tennis match, and it doesn't even have anything to do with winning! Odd as you can be, Colin, I thought you were at least rational."

"I am being rational."

"No, you are not."

Colin flickered a glance at them, at Will, then back at me. "Look, Lizzy, just what are you trying to do here?" he asked in a low voice.

"Do?"

"Yeah... why are you really doing this? What's your plan?"

I groaned. "Plan? Ulterior motive? Don't you think that you're being just a little paranoid?"

"No." He said this quietly, with perfect seriousness and calmness. "What are you doing Lizzy?" he asked levelly.

"Nothing." I started back towards the service line. Colin finally surrendered and followed me, narrowly avoiding decapitation in the process. Lindsey had hit the ball back to me with a remarkably hard, straight shot.

"Wow, was that great or what, Lindsey Davenport!" Jack commented, impressed.

"Great?!?" Colin exploded. "She nearly killed me!"

"No she didn't. Shut up and serve." I tossed the ball to him.

He tossed it back, saying rather sulkily, "It's your serve, Lizzy."

"Good. I wasn't sure you'd notice that."

"I'm not an idiot, Lizzy."

The subsequent set was played hardball fashion by all of us except Jack, who returned Colin's alarmingly forceful shots with good-humored bemusement. While retrieving a hard shot of Lindsey's that had gone waaaaaay out (control is definitely a good thing in tennis), I executed a graceful little stumble in conjunction with a well-timed shriek.

"Are you all right, Lizzy?" Lindsey called.

"Fine -- just twisted my foot a little, I think... why don't you and Jack play and Colin and I will just go over here and sit for a little while..." I smiled sweetly at Colin, who was giving me a death glare.

"What the hell was that?" he demanded as soon as we were through the door to the courts.

"What was what?" I asked innocently. Colin gave me a furious look and stalked off to the cluster of picnic tables situated between the two enclosures of tennis courts.

"You know what I mean, Lizzy."

"I tripped over the ball. I'm so sorry. Maybe you can play winners." I smiled dazzlingly. Colin gritted his teeth. Abruptly I dropped the ruse. Sometimes the best way to deal with Colin is to shock him. "You know you weren't concentrating on the game. You were just waiting for a chance to talk to me. I gave you the chance."

"What are you doing, Liz?" he cried. "Now you're doing it again!"

"Answering your own questions?" I queried politely.

"Why, Lizzy?"

I paused. The expression in his voice and eyes was softer and imploring, no longer angry. He deserved an answer -- certainly not the entire answer, or even half, but a bit. I leaned forward on my elbows and looked across the table at him. "Tell me what you think I'm doing."

"Jack -- Lindsey -- what are you doing, Lizzy?"

...I just want to see something," I said slowly.

"See something?!?"

I shrugged. "Actions, reaction... you know."

"But -- but -- whatever you're doing, Lizzy, these are people, not guinea pigs. You can't just try something out to see what happens."

"I'm not doing that at all, Colin."

"You don't think that someone might get hurt?"

"Do you?"

Colin squirmed ever so slightly. "Well, you know... Jack..."

"Is devastatingly handsome?" I helped.

Another squirm. "All I'm saying is... is... if Lindsey falls for him, if that's what you're trying to engineer... I... don't want to see her end up with a broken heart. I mean, Jack?"

I had to laugh. "Really, Colin -- you of all people, telling me he might break her heart..." I shook my head at him.

"What?"

"All I'm saying is that Jack is hardly a reprobate compared to you."

"Lizzy!"

"I'm not saying you're a cad," I continued thoughtfully. "As a matter of fact, I think you have very chivalrous impulses. ...But really, Colin."

Colin continued on its same track. "But Jack..."

"Jack is your friend," I reminded him.

"I know, Lizzy! He's a great guy. I'm not accusing him of anything sinister. I just don't think..."

"Colin, you're not her older brother."

There was a pause. "I know." I didn't say anything. "Her brother's right there. Look at him, Lizzy, he isn't happy about this. Ever consider what he might think, eh?"

I glanced over to the bench where Will sat. He was grimly watching not Lindsey and Jack, but us.

"See? He agrees with me," Colin insisted.

"I don't doubt it," I retorted, "though there's no reason he should. Overprotective, overbearing..."

"He needs someone to help him lighten up," said Colin, looking at me.

"No kidding," I muttered. Then, less acrimoniously, "You know, Colin, I've been thinking. At first I thought maybe Jen, but she's too serene and complaisant, not quite what he needs."

"Exactly, he needs someone lively."

"Right, so I was thinking... of course, there is a bit of an age difference -- He's what --"

"Turned twenty-eight in July."

" -- and sometimes I really can't stand they guy, so..."

"Yes?" Colin's voice was unexpectedly hopeful.

"I think Kristy might be right for him."

"Kristy?"

"Yes, I --"

"Kristy?!?!" Colin was stupefied. "Kristy?"

"Kristy!" I shouted. Lindsey looked over at me and an easy return from Jack flew by her.

"Kristy," repeated Colin, as if he wanted to get it perfectly straight.

I began to feel prickles of irritation. "What, don't you think she's good enough for him?"

"No, not at all, but... Kristy?"

"Well, what's wrong with it?" I asked impatiently.

"Nothing. I mean, it's not her but..." If he said "Kristy?" again I was going to wring his neck. "...but... I just don't think she's... right for him... Lizzy."

"No?" I inquired. "And why n -- ohhhhh."

"What's ohhhh?"

"Is it because you want her for yourself?" I asked bluntly.

Colin didn't answer, then finally, "I don't think she's right for him. Really."

"But?"

Again he was silent several moments before answering. "I... yes. Maybe. Liz, maybe. I don't know. But don't do anything with that, please."

I narrowed my eyes. "Oh really," I replied coolly.

"But more importantly, don't try anything with Kristy and Will."

I gritted my teeth. "Oh really?"

"Yeah. And this Lindsey-Jack stuff... not a good idea. Trust me. Disaster. I know you don't think I have any good reason, but... I just know..."

"Ohhh... really..." Colin has been my friend for more than ten years. I love him dearly. I want to kill him.

"Yeah. I do know them both better than you. If you have to engage in all this matchmaking stuff, try something more worthwhile... like Bing and Jen."

I couldn't help it any more. "Yes, Colin, and I think Lindsey agrees with you. About her and Jack, I mean."

"Yeah?"

"Oh, yeah. That's why all those tennis balls were flying at you with a force that could have killed a small animal."

Colin glared at me and bent over to tie his shoe, muttering something about "women are temperamental and jealous."

I threw a tennis ball at the back of his head.

"What was that for?!?" he exclaimed.

"Because you're an idiot."

Part 6: Fallout

Posted on Tuesday, 5 December 2000

(Colin)

Sunday morning, I was adding another spoonful of Quik to my chocolate milk when the phone rang. "Hello?"

"Ah, good, you're up." It was Jack, sounding very relieved, against a good deal of background noise.

I looked at the clock -- quarter to ten. "Of course I'm up. What's up -- you're working now, aren't you?"

"Yeah. Julie asked me to call you. I know you're not supposed to start until eleven, but could you come in early?"

"Busy?"

"Madness."

"Sure, I -- "

A small commotion in the background interrupted me. "WHAT? Uh-oh. Errr... sorry Colin, just a sec... ...Yeah, sure Alicia, I think I can get my sister switched over here, would that be better?...Great. I'll send Mo down in a minute, I just have to finish talking to Colin.... Yep, Julie thinks it would help to have someone more...So sorry about this whole thing, Alicia...yeah, I know it was because of Carol...thanks, Alicia..."

"Still there?" Jack asked a few minutes later.

"What was that about? Something wrong in the coffee shop?"

"Carol Ann put Billy in here -- I'm right next to it now. He's been driving Alicia nuts for the past half hour. Already he's broken two bottles of her flavoring syrup. She's freaking out. It is not good."

"It must not be." The manager of the coffee shop is ordinarily a woman of poise and composure, certainly not given to "freaking".

"A plate of croissants just tumbled because of him." Jack snorted. "That's what he gets for messing with the angle of repose."

I chuckled. Jack is a physics enthusiast. After majoring in it in college, he taught high school physics and math for a year before concluding that while that was well and good, teaching wasn't for him. Now he plans to get an engineering degree and design amusement park rides, especially roller coasters. "Not everyone is as concerned with the angle of repose as you are," I reminded him.

"Yes, but obviously he should have been! ...So, you'll come?"

I looked down at my gray tee shirt and plaid flannel pants. "Errr... give me about forty minutes."

"Great. You're a lifesaver, Colin."

"No problem." I was about to hang up, but Jack continued.

"Just one thing. How are things between you and Lindsey?"

It was a bad moment to have taken a sip of coffee. "Why?"

Jack sighed. "Because it didn't look too pleasant between the two of you when we were playing tennis, and today is not a good day to be hung up over something personal."

"That was a week and a half ago," I said irritably. "Nothing's wrong. I'm not hung up over anything -- Lindsey's not hung up over anything. Everything's fine."

"Okay, okay. I just thought there might be some constraint, that's all."

"Constraint?" I asked sharply. "Why? Over what?"

"Nothing, nothing, Colin. Just wanted to be sure."

"Be sure," I muttered.

"So... you're still... friends?" Jack asked doubtfully.

"Of course!!!" I nearly shouted, becoming impatient. Why did he have to pry like this? "What do you think???"

"Have I hit a nerve?"

"NO, you have not," I growled, intensely irritated and grinding my teeth.

"Alright then. See you in a bit -- thanks."

I hung up and grumphed a bit. Constraint indeed. Everything was fine, and Jack didn't need to mess it up. What the heck was he trying to stir up? I drank two glasses of chocolate milk.

Thirty-two minutes later I was at work, particularly impressive because I was nearly dressed before I remembered it was the first day of non-summer dress and not only had to change, but iron.

"Very nice," Lindsey remarked approvingly.

"Eh?"

"Nice. Spotless, pressed, even matching. I'm impressed."

"Don't you have any confidence in me?"

"Yeah... no, not much."

I looked at Lindsey and smiled. She was wearing a lightweight sage green cardigan, flowered skirt, and brown loafers -- very typical of her. Her reddish curls were twisted up. "Spotless, pressed, even matching. I'm impressed," I retorted.

"Nice try."

"So, you'll compliment Ben on his ties but all you'll do for me is sarcastically congratulate me on my ability to dress myself properly?"

"Nice tie."

"Very funny."

"I'm sorry, Colin. I like it. It's very Colin-ish."

"Is it?" I asked doubtfully, looking at the subtle, conservative dark green and navy pattern.

"Uh-huh." She smiled. "It's a compliment, Colin," she added, amused.

"Okay."

Lindsey frowned a little. "Just one thing, though..."

"What are you doing?" I asked with raised eyebrows as Lindsey reached up and adjusted my tie.

"Fixing your tie. What do you think, stringing you up?"

"I am more than four, you know."

"You're all lopsided. It doesn't look right."

"Oh, so I can't dress myself properly after all."

"Well, you were in a hurry. So I'll give you the benefit of the doubt."

I grinned. Things were fine, I knew it. I caught myself looking for Jack for the sake of saying 'see I told you so.'

"All right... so what's going on here?" I scanned the line of registers as we strode past. Yikes, it was it busy. And many things were clearly not right.

Andrew Dennison, tie flipped over his shoulder, was swiftly bagging behind a clearly inexperienced employee. "I'll be right back," Lindsey murmured, walking away rapidly to answer a light.

Andy took advantage of the cashier's slowness and confusion to turn to me in explanation. "Almost all of our solid people are bagging. The inexperienced ones are on register but they can't keep up, so George and Julie instructed the coordinators to stop and bag for them whenever we have a chance -- which means at any given time there are fewer of us available to answer lights, and believe me, there are a lot to be answered. It's too busy for us to have anyone switch except for breaks and going home, so I think we're just going to have to phase them out that way." Andy turned to resume bagging and continued with annoyance, "Ben's not here today, but apparently Carol Ann insisted that all the recent trainees get weekend register experience today."

"How many," I asked warily, noticing the alarming abundance of yellow "I'm New" ribbons.

Andy groaned. "Half a dozen who just got out of training Friday --"

"What?" I exclaimed.

"Yep -- and about fifteen others who finished training within the last two or three."

"Is she crazy? That's more than half our registers! More like two thirds, actually. How did she get away with this?"

"She was scheduled early this morning and was the first one running the schedule..."

"...And Carol doesn't like getting up early, especially on weekends, especially when it's because she has to work."

"I think that's about it. By the time Julie realized what was happening it was too late for her to do anything about it except wait for a chance to phase them out." Andy moved to help the cashier with tendering the payment.

Lindsey returned. I had begun bagging for the register next to Andy. "Has he told you what's going on?" she asked, setting up the bagging stand in back of the register next to mine.

"Well, I heard about Carol's little scheme... is there more?"

Lindsey sighed and pushed back her hair. "Just a few things... there are many, many people here for the canal convention -- and they're not from around here, aren't familiar with the machines, so the people on register have to put in the cards into the icot, and thanks to Carol, a lot of them can't do it either. And a lot of Europeans -- lots of canals in Europe, I suppose -- some of them don't speak much English -- it's a problem with the inexperienced employees. Especially the ones who aren't familiar with produce..."

"There's more, isn't there?"

"Yep... some of the signs for the new week are wrong or not up yet, and all the discounts on flowers haven't been programmed yet, even though the new signs for them are up."

"Uh-oh..."

"And the lines to the banks have been going down."

"I'm glad that's all there is," I remarked sarcastically.

"Yeah, really... nope, customers have been mistaken about the prices on a bunch of items, plus all the other price confusion -- which means a lot of them don't take them --"

"--Which means a lot of reshops..."

"Which, in most cases, means a lot of perishable reshops."

"Happy thought indeed," I muttered.

"Hmm, yes."

"So how many managers are there now?" I asked, looking around. "From who I've seen already it seems like a full house."

"Hmm... Andy and I got here at ten... My brother, Liz, Jen, Richard, Jack, Bing, Carley, George, Julie, Lou, Sean..."

"That's nearly everyone!"

"Yeah... Carol, if you want to count her as a positive force... oh, and Bert, who despises me --"

"He despises nearly everyone, Linz."

She considered. "Yeah, that's true. And we've got Shem and Maureen and a few others answering lights, reshopping, and spotting at the Service desk or just wherever we need them."

"I think Jack sent Mo to the coffee shop after he called me... Kristy here?" I asked casually.

Apparently not casually enough. I faced scrutiny from both left and right as Andy and Lindsey turned to me. "No, she's not coming in at all today," Lindsey answered slowly. Andy watched me silently for a moment, then turned back to bagging.

"Ah, to bad," I replied. Secretly, I was relieved. I had tried to avoid most contact with Kristy ever since intimating to Lizzy I might be interested in her. There were some things I needed to think out. Elizabeth's insane idea about her sister and Will Fitzdarcy would completely sabotage any plan (or at this point, more of a lack of plan... but that could -- and would -- be rectified...) I might have for the Will and Lizzy. The last minute save I had pulled to avert this disaster might have been a bit short in foresight, but Liz hadn't given me much warning. ...And in all honesty, I had to admit that courting Kristen Benedict was no heavy self-sacrifice. I still wasn't sure what I was going to do. I wondered what she thought about the unusual formality I had spoken to her with the few times I had seen her since that tennis game. It couldn't be helped, but I did feel rather as if I owed her. Chuckling a bit, I thought of the utter absurdity of telling her, "I just thought you should know that I won't be flirting with you today like I usually do. Exactly why is classified information, but let it be said that there is a good reason." Hmmm... nope, that would never do.

"What's so funny?" Lindsey asked.

I started. "Ahhhhh... nothing."

Lindsey murmured a doubtful little "Mm-hmm."

"Anything else?" I asked to change the subject.

Lindsey reddened and looked uncomfortable. "Yeahhh... actually, there is."

"There is?" I was suddenly nervous, thinking of Jack's warning.

"Yessss..." Lindsey's forehead puckered with worry. "Remember a few weeks ago, I accidentally told Lizzy that Will thinks she's beautiful?"

"Well, yes... What's going on?"

"I'm not sure --"

Julie came up behind me. "You're wonderful."

I turned. "Hey, that's a nice departure from your usual treatment of me, don't you think?"

Julie smiled innocently. "You get what you deserve, Colin."

I was about to protest, but Julie shut me up. "Come with me. I need you to help me with a few things."

"Do any of these things involve cleaning?"

"They do not. Will and I are trying to reprogram the discounts into the computers. Some of them were done earlier, but were lost, and the rest were never done," Julie said. "For some reason, Will is having problems putting them in. There are a lot of problems with the computer system that he's trying to sort out."

As we entered the dark computer room, I remembered that Lindsey was about to tell me something about her brother and Elizabeth. Will sat at the second in the row of computers, while Elizabeth stood over him and leaned over his shoulder, looking at the monitor.

"It's right there. Got it?" Liz asked, pointing to something on the screen.

"Yes... careful, don't smudge up the monitor, please."

Lizzy rolled her eyes. "Is it working this time?"

"I think so."

"Have the problems been fixed, Will?" Julie asked him.

He turned down the radio and swiveled his chair around. "I'm not sure. But nothing more has come up, so it's looking pretty good. I don't think you'll have to worry about any new problems, at least. I think we should be able to get the changes in faster now."

"Excellent," said Julie, taking her blazer off the back of a chair. "So Elizabeth is helping you now?"

"Umm... I guess so," Will replied doubtfully.

"Great. I have some other things to do. I'll check back in a little while, Will. thanks for getting this fixed."

"I think I'm superfluous," I began tentatively, fifteen minutes later. I had contributed a little work to the computer effort, but Will and Lizzy seemed to be fine without me. Plus, they were actually getting along for once... even at such a close proximity. Standing behind Will's chair, Lizzy would often lean over him to point out what he was looking for on the monitor, key something into the computer, or explain something on his list. For his part, Will was less nervous and more gregarious than he usually was in her presence. His chattiness had increased even in the short time I had been in the room. Hmmm.

Neither replied. I rose from my chair. "I'm going now. You seem to be fine by yourselves." Two heads whipped around to stare at me. Will looked petrified, Lizzy irritated. Then she slowly began to smile.

"Yes, Colin, why don't you. They need you much more out there."

Will looked panicked. "Do you think this is a good idea, Colin?"

"Yes," I replied firmly.

"All right..." he conceded. I moved to the door. "Ah, Elizabeth... actually there is something I need to discuss with you..." I raised my eyebrows and closed the door behind me.

"Alicia."

"How are you, Colin?"

"Fine, thanks. Is it alright if I borrow Mo for a little while?"

She considered. "That should be fine. We aren't as busy now."

"Thanks. I'll send Shemmelle over if you need another person again."

"I am being borrowed?" Mo asked, raising her eyebrows at me.

"I need someone to deliver a few orders to the senior citizens' community," I informed her, dangling the keys to the van.

"Ooooh," said Mo happily.

"It's three or four separate orders, so I'll send Sean with you to help out."

"Ooooh Sean's cute." Mo grinned.

"Have fun," I said, handing her the keys.

"But tell him that I get to drive! I want to drive."

"That's fine."

"No, he might decide that he should be the driver. Make sure I get to drive."

I rolled my eyes. "Alicia, may I?" Alicia handed me the marker she used for labelling cups. I felt around for a scrap of paper, then failing that, scribbled "Mo is driving" across a cup lid. "Here's your token to paradise," I said sarcastically, handing it to her.

"Thank you, Colin! And it's ticket to paradise, by the way," Mosylu corrected.

"Argh! I think token was appropriate."

"Oh Sean..." Mo called, catching up to him as he passed by the coffee shop.

"Please come back," I reminded her. "And no fun little detours either."

"Heheh," said Mo, grinning. "Don't worry. You know I'm good."

My phone rang again. "Just a second... again," I told Kate, who had been standing across from me at the runners' desk for the past ten minutes, awaiting my orders. "Okay. I'll send someone down. Thanks, Shem." I switched modes on the phone. "Wet clean-up in aisle fifteen," I announced. I made a few alterations on the task list. Kate folded her arms on the podium and rested her chin on her hands, gazing at me with a resigned expression. "You're okay, just gonna hang out here for awhile 'til I've gotten all this stuff done?"

"Sure," said Kate patiently.

"I know, sorry. I'll be right --" The phone rang again. "Ack! Will my pocket stop ringing???"

Kate laughed. "Calm thoughts, calm thoughts," she reiterated my standard expression.

"Hey, watch it, missy." I turned on the phone. "...Okay, George... ...yeah, I'll get Kimmie, she's on the cafe registers... ...yes, George, there will be enough people left there... ...okay..."

"I think I'm going to lose my mind," I told Kate, switching my phone to the announcement mode again.

"Okay."

"Kim, pick up on 216."

"What do you want?" Kimmie asked.

"I need you to come back."

"Why?"

"Because I said so."

"I want to stay here."

Too bad."

"Fine," she grumbled.

"I'm so mean," I told Kate. "Sometimes I shock myself, how mean I am."

"If you say so." Kate had been listening to my babble for the last fifteen minutes.

Kimmie reappeared. "I need you to condition the bottles these front coolers."

"Ewww, it's cold."

"Tough."

"Why me?" Kimmie demanded.

"You're just so good at it."

Kimmie snorted. "All it is, is moving the bottles to the front."

"I could do it," Kate told me reproachfully, still leaning against the desk.

"I might need you to go on for someone who's going home. First I have to see if anyone is going home soon." I sighed. "The schedule is such a mess."

"Carol Ann?" asked Lou Micelli sagely, joining me.

"I have no doubt."

"So, Colin, trying to find somewhere to put this little scamp?" Lou asked, nodding towards Kate.

"So... if Kate is a scamp, what would that make me?" wondered Kimmie rhetorically, from the cooler next to us.

"A little devil," I muttered.

"Heheheh, said Kimmie appreciatively.

Lou looked over the schedule sheets. "Earlier we didn't have enough people -- or enough of the right people, at least -- and now we don't know what to do with them."

"Yep." The store had slowed drastically at about four o'clock.

"Well, better than being under scheduled," said Lou. "Tearing out your hair, each day you come in with less..." Lou sighed. I sighed.

"You have a high forehead," Kimmie observed deviously.

"Shut up." She flicked a little piece of ice at me. I removed the ice from the inside of my collar. "Okay, Kate, why don't you see if Myra wants to go home on eleven," I said, pointing to the lane directly across from us.

"Will and Lizzy have gotten the computer thing straightened out," Lou informed me.

"Good." So they could cooperate, it would seem.

"Is everything going well up here, Colin?" asked George Knight, who had been talking to Kimmie.

"Yeah, kinda sorta not really."

"Oh?" George inquired worriedly.

"But it's okay now."

Kate came back to me. "She said she doesn't. And that she doesn't like you."

"All right, then why don't you help Kimmie."

George handed Kimmie a dollar and some change. "Thanks, dear."

"Is she getting you something to drink?" I asked.

"Yep."

"Get me something, too." Kimmie turned to me for money. "He's paying for it," I said cheerfully, pointing to George, who rolled his eyes in exasperation and handed Kimmie another dollar. "Hey, thanks George!" I pulled out a dollar for Kimmie.

"Jeeze, who is giving me money?" she demanded impatiently.

"I am, I am." I told her.

"Just pestering George? As usual?"

"Well... yeah."

"Tell me again how you've kept this job?" George asked.

"Good looks and charm," Shem suggested, coming around the corner.

"That's why, isn't it, Julie?" I called to her.

"I'm not telling."

"So," said Kimmie, "Sprite for George and diet Pepsi for Colin?"

"Yeah, sure... hey!" Kimmie smirked. "So, first you're calling me anorexic and then you're saying I should have diet?"

"Thank you, Kimmie. Just leave it on my desk. I'll be there in about twenty minutes or so." George gathered some papers from the runners' desk and departed.

"Ooooh," said Shem, eyes wide. "I think Jack is in looooooove."

"Really?" asked Kate, interested. Then she considered. "...yeah, I think you're right."

"Definitely," asserted Kimmie.

"He is?" I was bewildered. "With someone here?"

"Oh yes," said Shem.

"Really? With who?"

"Not telling," said Kimmie firmly.

"Think about it," said Kate.

"You should know..." murmured Shem.

"Really? Huh."

I spent the next half hour fruitlessly trying to sweet-talk the information out of Shemmelle, who was helping me answer lights.

"Come on! Why won't you tell me?"

"Because. It's something you should figure out for yourself and it's something you should be able to figure out."

"Shem!"

"Think about it."

"Colin, I'm working almost not at all next week," said Kate.

"That's not good. Here, come with me." We started towards the manager's office. On the way we passed Lindsey and Jack, who were working in the reshop area. I paused to listen to their conversation.

"So, this Carol Ann person is quite a character," Jack remarked. "She was an intern, was she..." A devious smirk spread across his face.

"Ah, no. Don't even think about it," Lindsey warned.

"What? What do you think I'll do?" Jack asked innocently.

"I know the way your sense of humor runs."

"Oh really. So... are you going to give me an answer?"

Lizzy just had to choose that moment to come out of the computer room. She gave me a look.

"What?"

"Yes?" Lizzy, raising her eyebrows.

"Lizzy..."

She looked thoughtfully from me to Lindsey.

"Nothing's wrong!" I protested.

She shrugged and gave me another cool look, then walked away. Turning, I saw Kate was also giving me a cool look. "WHAT?"

Humph. I looked over my shoulder at Lindsey and Jack. An answer? An answer to what??? I opened the door to the office, where Lou was typing rapidly on the computer and singing rather badly with the radio.

"Mind if we squeeze in here for a second?" I asked.

"Not a problem. I was just about to leave," he said, saving the file.

"Hmmm... so you need hours?" I asked, sitting down in the chair Lou had just vacated and opening the schedule sheets for next week. "When can you work? Monday?"

"No."

"Okay... how about Thursday from six to nine and Friday from 4:15 to 9:30?"

"Okay."

"Working next weekend?"

"On Sunday, but not on Saturday."

"Hmmm.... how about 1:30 to 8:45?"

"Okay," said Kate. "I'll be right back," she said, darting out of the office before I could call her back in. I caught a glimpse of Lindsey again. She wasn't mad at me still. She hadn't been this morning, had she? Constraint? Everything was fine. Jack, Lizzy, what were they thinking?

I leaned out the door. Ahha. Kate took out an icot slip from register one to write on. Oh shoot. The cashier on one turned off her flashing light, and Kate departed. Looked like I was going to be here awhile. I turned my attention to the desk, or rather, broad work surface, of the office. As usual, it was a bit disorganized.

The mailboxes were overflowing. I glanced through my mail, and, finding nothing of much interest, began to straighten up a bit. Jack's mailbox was an utter mess, papers on the verge of falling out. I removed them and straightened the stack.

It is not my habit to read other people's mail, but on the top of the stack, Jack's characteristic scrawl was smudged across the back of an envelope, with a line of smaller, neater handwriting underneath it.

Hey Lindsey were the first words. Cautiously, I leaned out the door. No one was coming.

Short notice, I know -- but have dinner with me tonight after work. Nothing special, just go across the plaza to Benucci's. So, what do you say?

My eyes widened in shock. "Jack is in looooooove," Shem had said.

Sure, why not, Lindsey had replied on the envelope.

I heard the register one cashier thanking Kate for retrieving a few items the customer had forgotten to pick up. Hastily, I shoved the papers back into Jack's mailbox.

"Sorry... I had to get something to write on. Sorry I took so long," Kate apologized.

"I could have given you something to write on," I said nicely, pointing to a stack of blue post-it notes.

"Oh," Kate squeaked. "Sorry."

"That's fine," I murmured. I reiterated her new hours as she wrote them down.

"Thank you, Colin! Sorry I took some much time."

"Not a problem," I murmured, leaning back in my chair as Kate left the office.

Lindsey entered. "My pen died," she said, leaning over me, trying to reach George's desk organizer. I handed one to her.

"Hmmm, Lindsey..." I began.

"Yes?"

"...Never mind." I couldn't meet her eyes.

"Going home, Kate?" I heard Lizzy ask.

"Yep. See you later, Lizzy."

Lizzy. Lizzy had screwed this up and Lizzy was going to fix it. Or help, at least. I came out of the office and cornered her. "Doing anything tonight?"

"After work? Well, I do intend to go home."

"Nothing else?"

"Nope, nothing planned."

"Come with me."

"Come with you where?" she asked, puzzled.

"After work. I'm bored. Let's do something."

"Oh, I see... so you're operating on the assumption that if I have nothing planned, naturally what I want to do is entertain you where you're bored?"

"Of course."

"This isn't going to be the kind of date where you take me to your apartment, lock the door, and say 'Now you get to clean my kitchen'?"

"Nope... This is the kind of date where I take you to my apartment and seduce you, Lizzy."

"Oh, I see," she said archly.

"Naaaah... just a friends with nothing better to do thing."

"Yeah, I knew that. So, what are we doing?"

I thought. "Surprise."

"Hmmm. Oh, by the way, Colin, there's something I want to talk to you about... about Will..."

"Really?"

"Yes, the strangest thing. Good though, we might finally have a breakthrough."

"Great," I said, not asking her what the breakthrough was about.

*"Everything She Does" -- the Police
**Til I Hear it From You -- Gin Blossoms

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