The Accidental Human

by Dakota Cassidy

  Linda took a deep breath. The rise and fall of her chest made the pearls at her neck bounce. “You’re not gay.” Her statement was flat.

  “You say that like you’re disappointed,” Heath pointed out.

  Linda was all atwitter, her face changing with the recognition that this beautiful specimen of man-cake was heterosexual. Which meant fair game. “You seriously want to sell Bobbie-Sue, and you’re not gay?”

  Heath sighed while people meandered around them, gathering at the sound of the commotion to form a loose circle a few yards away. “I’ve already sold Bobbie-Sue, and may I just make mention of something? This skepticism among you ladies is beginning to beat me down, if I’m being honest. I don’t get the big deal about me being a straight man, wanting to sell cosmetics, but all this astonishment—the gasping and the outright shock—will it pass soon? Because I’m feeling sorta like no matter what I do—no matter how much I sell—you’ll all always treat me differently. I’m just as good at this as you are—despite the fact that I’m a man.” He gave Linda a feigned look of pathetic-ness—so put upon, so beautifully executed, Wanda might have fallen for it if she didn’t know Heath didn’t give a crap what anyone else thought. He was many things, but insecure wasn’t one of them.

  Nice. That was very nice. Way to tug at Linda’s equal-rights-amendment heart. Hook, line, and sinker, he’d reeled Linda in.A roll of her eyes and the flick of her wrist at him were all Wanda had.

  Linda shuffled nearer to Heath, letting her breast graze his arm. “So are you telling me that Wanda’s treated you differently because you’re a man? Made you feel like less than an equal. Because the Bobbie-Sue creed does say every Bobbie-Sue representative is created equally—”

  “And each one is as unique as a snowflake,” Heath finished for her. “No, I’m not saying that exactly. I’m saying she had the same reservations as you, Ms. Fisher, and I was simply wondering out loud if everyone would question my mad color skills each time they realize I’m in this to win this—even if I’m just a mere man.”

  Wanda sent him a silent bravo. He really was good, playing the man card the way he had. She’d almost venture to say he was better at this than Marty.

  “Sold,” Linda said to Wanda, shooting her a smile of sly delight.

  “Sold?” Both she and Heath repeated.

  “Yep,” Linda answered as fast as her lips could move. “You don’t need to say another word. I’ll be glad to take Heath off your hands, Wanda. Just send me the paperwork for transference of a rep. And you,” she cooed to Heath, “can come with me. I’ll be over by the punch bowl with the lavender juice in it.” She winked before she sauntered her saggy yellow-clad ass off into the melee of women who had questions written all over their brightly painted faces.

  “They have lavender juice? For real?”

  Wanda would have chuckled if she didn’t feel so miserable. Linda was going to glom onto Heath like the cellulite that riddled her thighs, and it incited Wanda for some ungodly reason. Heath wasn’t hers in that way. He was her recruit, er, ex-recruit. “And lavender cups and lavender napkins and all things lavender,” she offered dejectedly.

  Heath rounded on her, forcing her to move back against the wall, the tall length of him but an inch away from her smaller frame. Shivers wended across her arms and along her scalp—the same reaction she had whenever he was near. Which was one of many reasons why he could no longer be near. She found it hard to focus on his words when he was in such close proximity, the heat he emanated, his size, his flippin’ yummy lips made her grit her teeth. “Forget the juice. Are we breaking up?”

  Wanda pursed her lips while trying to keep her face expressionless. “Yup.”

  “After we’ve come so far? I thought we’d finally bonded over color wheels and the transgender guys. Forgive me if I feel just a little blindsided.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Explanation?”

  Wanda tilted her chin upward, sending him a hard, determined stare. “Linda’s going to be your new regional rep.”

  “And the reason for that is?”

  “I’m resigning from Bobbie-Sue.”

  “Because?”

  “That’s my business.”

  “Is it the man thing again?”

  God, he was so arrogant. What made him think she’d up and leave a perfectly good income because of him? “Not everything’s about you. This is about me.”

  “You can’t believe the relief I feel knowing this isn’t about all about me,” he said with sarcasm. “So when did you plan to tell me you were giving me to whatsherface, who, by the way, should never wear yellow.”

  Wanda came close to giggling, but she had to keep this as impersonal as she could. “I didn’t. I was going to let corporate notify you.”

  He mocked a hurt look, running a hand through his hair. “Is that any way to treat a new recruit? Just dump them without a word? I feel so snubbed.”

  She snorted up at him. “Oh, puuulease. Save the pity boloney for Linda. She fell for it. Me? Not so much.You’ve got it goin’ on, Heath Jefferson, and you know it. You don’t need me or anyone else to tell you so. My guidance wouldn’t be any different than Linda’s, it just probably would have been minus the goo-goo eyes she’s going to be flashing at you.”

  “Why would you subject me to goo-goo eyes? Isn’t that cruel and unusual punishment of a new recruit?”

  Wanda thinned her lips to keep another giggle in check. “Maybe, but it’s the way it has to be—unless you have a better alternative. I’m handing you over to the best—next to me, that is.”

  “Can I ask you something else?”

  “Go.”

  “You’re clearly very successful at what you do.Why would you give up a career like this?”

  Because the afterlife has no color wheels. “It’s a personal matter.” Jesus, with all the questions. He couldn’t be that attached to her. They’d only known each other a few days. Why was he being so difficult?

  “So personal you can afford to give up your primary source of income?”

  “I have alimony.” She slapped a hand over her mouth before she could stop it. Jesus. TMI. She didn’t need to defend what she was doing, or why. And that kind of info was hardly keeping things impersonal.

  He raised an eyebrow at her. A scathing one. “I see.”

  Wanda skirted out from the corner he’d backed her into and said, “N-no. You don’t see, and it doesn’t matter whether you do anyway. I-I have to go,” she stuttered. Squaring her shoulders, she fought to keep her shit together. “And do me a favor, please—keep the resignation thing between you and me for the time being. I didn’t tell Linda because she’d just find a reason to gloat, and I’m not up to that tonight. Now go find Linda. She’ll be the one holding court because she’s bested Wanda Schwartz. In fact”—Wanda tilted her head to the left—“I think I hear her cackling to the west now. Good luck, Heath.” She zipped around him, trotting past the group of women Linda had gathered, with feet she almost couldn’t keep up with in their haste to blow this joint. She had to, or she’d fall apart in front of everyone. She was eggshell fragile; telling Heath she was handing him over to Linda had scrambled her eggs.

  “Byyyyyyeeeee, Wanda, and thanks for the new rep. I think we’ll make a beautiful team,” Linda cooed sweetly.

  Linda’s tone, sticky and bubbling sugar, burned a hole in Wanda’s gut. It made her fume. It made her stop in her tracks, her heels screeching to a halt.

  What made her turn around and saunter up to Linda, parting the crowd of women, probably had a little something to do with retribution, and the fact that she’d never have to atone for her un-Bobbie-Sue-like behavior, because she wasn’t coming back.

  Which made her next words that much more satisfying. Popping her face in Linda’s line of vision, she grinned, letting her eyes flash some crazy Linda’s way. “Do me a favor, would ya, Linda? First, you remember who nailed the first ever male Bobbie-Sue recruit. That was me, honey—not you. And second, when you
teach Heath all about how to build his clientele—avoid the territory encroachment part of it, will ya? Because we both know—you’re aces at that.” Wanda winked and wiggled her fingers at the flabbergasted crowd of women. “TTFN, ladies!”

  She hightailed it out of Bobbie-Sue corporate, biting the inside of her cheek to keep from crying.The last glance over her shoulder was of Heath, surrounded by hordes of women doing what they did best where he was concerned, making googly eyes and tripping over their multicolored high heels to get near him.

  Wanda paused for a moment when she stepped out of the elevator doors in the parking garage and took several shuddering breaths. She dug around in her purse to find the list she’d made just this morning and crossed off Give Heath to Linda with a firm scratch of her pen, but she didn’t feel the typical sense of accomplishment in doing so.

  Tears stung her eyes.

  The problem with those tears? She wasn’t sure if they were all because she was leaving Bobbie-Sue—her livelihood, her recruits, the place where she’d sprouted wings—or if one or two involved the fact that she’d just sent Heath packing.

  Her heart clenched and then let go, leaving behind a hollow, empty ache.

  The chilled air of the parking garage finally hit her, making her move with speed to her car. Wanda ran a hand over the smooth surface of the door before clicking the key fob to open it. She’d never regret being a part of Bobbie-Sue, no matter how rabid Nina thought the company and its reps were. It had given her her self-esteem back, her sense of self-worth, and it had also facilitated her friendship with Marty and Nina.

  Convertibles aside, for that, she’d always be grateful.

  Wanda pulled her bathrobe tighter around her chest and ripped a sheet of paper from the spiral bound notebook, poising her pen over it. She sat at her kitchen table with only the light from her stove on, doing what calmed her, brought order to her world—a world that felt very chaotic right now.

  She was making a list.

  Of all the lists she’d ever made—this was the most important. Of all the things she’d wanted to do in her lifetime, she’d never expected they’d have to be crammed into such a short span of time. And there was no telling how long that time would be. Four months—maybe six . . .

  For now, except for the occasional twinges, aches, and pains, she felt okay. Dead tired sometimes, but okay. In fact, she’d never know her prognosis was so bleak if she hadn’t seen the test results with her own eyes.

  Yet, her resignation from Bobbie-Sue tonight, leaving Heath in Linda’s care, had made her fate abundantly clear—final. She’d quit her job—it didn’t get much more terminal than that.

  Over the weekend, she’d given far more thought to Heath than she should have. But after the day they’d spent together at the Miss TransAmerica pageant, and its aftermath, she’d found herself going over their time together. There were things he’d done—maybe unnoticeable to most who didn’t have a defined time frame for the rest of their existence on Earth. Those things might appear subtle to someone who wasn’t clinging to life—but they were definitely clear to her, knowing now how fragile life was.

  His exuberance for one. She’d literally felt his love of life. It’d seeped beneath her skin and burrowed in her consciousness, leaving her incredibly aware in its wake. The vibes he gave off pulsed in life-affirming waves, washing over her. He was jobless—which couldn’t be pleasant in this day and age.Yet he’d found great pleasure in such simple things.

  Heath had an uncommon zest for living, and it showed in the way he’d eaten the hot dog with extra relish, eyes closed, his lightly tanned throat exposed when he swallowed, head thrown back while he grunted in pleasure.

  It was in the way even the coldest day of the year didn’t make him mutter that he wished he were somewhere warm. She’d caught him lifting his face to the weak sun more than once.

  And it had taken her breath away when she’d reflected on it. Not just because he was a hottie, and he made her twitch with awareness when he was near her, but because he seemed to take such unadulterated joy in the smallest of things. She’d forgotten what it was to do that—and as cliché as it was, as often as she’d heard it said, noted it, planned to practice the theory, she’d lost sight of the little things.

  It was what inspired her to savor every last nanosecond left, and why she was writing this list.

  The “Fuck It” list.

  The title represented exactly how she felt about what was going to happen to her. Fuck this shit called dying. Fuck this being forced to leave her friends and family before she was good and ready. Fuck Linda Fisher for snatching Heath up like he was an ice cream sundae, and that Linda’d spend endless hours with him. Fuck this notion that she was going to let it all slip away before she at least tried to grab what was left of her life by the horns, before she had the chance to take care of some old hurts, heal some old wounds, cleanse the ones that remained open.

  Wanda hovered for a moment, the pen in midair, before she wrote the number one, filling in the blank space with a crazy desire she knew she’d never fulfill. But if wish lists required honesty with yourself, number one on her list, while now elusive, had become a ridiculous yearning. If she were to ever experience that one act again, it’d be with number one on her list.

  So it was time to live like she was dying.

  Because she was.

  Entries two through ten had been easy—writing number one, actually putting it on paper, seeing the words in black and white, made her heart skip a beat.

  A knock on her door startled her. Her eyes flew to the microwave’s clock. It was almost eleven. Who the frig was banging on her door at this hour? Stuffing her list in her bathrobe pocket, Wanda made her way to the door, grabbing the bat she kept in the umbrella stand, just in case. The way she saw it, only she could be murdered when she was due to bite the big one anyway, and right when she was in the middle of making her list of things to do before she bit it. “Who is it?”

  “It’s Heath, Wanda. I know it’s late, but we need to talk.” His silky voice was muted by the heavy front door, but it didn’t thwart the effect it had on her.

  She looked down at her bathrobe and fuzzy matching slippers, and let her head fall back on her neck. She was a far cry from the composed woman of this evening at Bobbie-Sue. “Aren’t you all talked out from Linda and gang?”

  “Open the door, Wanda—please,” he tacked on for obvious courtesy’s sake.

  She put the bat back and turned the heavy locks on her door, pulling it open to a very haggard, oddly ruffled looking Heath. “What’s wrong?”

  He made a face at her. “Can I come in? I’ll explain everything.”

  Wanda waved a hand, motioning him inside. “Have a seat.”

  Heath plopped on her couch, grunting, his long legs crossing at the ankles. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”

  Wanda slumped down in the chair opposite him. “Me?”

  “Yeah, you,Wanda.That Linda—that Linda’s a—hold on”—he held up a hand—“let me think. I’m going to try and remain a gentleman here.” He sighed as though gathering his words, the deep release of breath drawing her eyes to his hard chest, his expression playfully pained. “That woman’s not interested in teaching me anything, Wanda. How could you leave me with her?” He said the word her on a high-pitched keen.

  Hoo boy. “Oh, c’mon.You’re kidding, right? Big, bad you can’t handle scrawny Linda Fisher? I’m sad to hear I underestimated you,” she joked.

  He shook a finger at her and boomed,“Oh, no, no, no. Don’t even go there. Don’t start attacking my manhood—no one’s safe with her. She’s a piranha.That woman’s like an octopus—an octopus—all tentacles. After the meeting, where everyone kept petting me and treating me like I was the well-oiled pool boy, I offered to walk Linda to her car. It’s what any gentleman would do. It was late, and dark, and okay, so she mentioned about a hundred times it was late and dark. I can take a hint. But, Jesus, she’s grabby. It was all I could do to
fend her off. She’s my superior—I didn’t want to insult her. But she was babbling about divorce and being lonely and something I can’t remember and then wham—she went in for the kill. Laid one right on me.” He narrowed his hazel eyes at her. “And you knew she was man hungry. I feel so cheap so dirty, so—so—thrown to the she-wolves.This is on you,Wanda Schwartz.”

  Wanda’s snort burst from her open lips, and she had to clamp down on her knuckle to avoid rolling around on the floor in a fit of laughter at his woeful expression. “You’re kidding me? Okay, yeah, I knew she was man hungry because she’s recently divorced, and it seems us divorcées go one way or the other after the end to a long marriage. You know—totally swearing off men or chasing after them like we’re still in high school and it’s cool to make a list of the guys you bedded down. But I swear, I never thought she’d behave like that at Bobbie-Sue. Linda’s done some unscrupulous things in her time as a rep, but this was totally unexpected. I really was only joking about the goo-goo eyes . . .”

  His mood went from dark to light in a half a second. “You made a list of the guys you—you know . . . in high school?”

  Yeah. Cause there were soooo many. There’d just been one. George, and he was hardly worth noting on a list. “Um, no. I wasn’t referring to me. I just meant in general.”

  “So you went the other way after your divorce?”

  Oy. She squirmed uncomfortably, folding and unfolding her hands. “I—I didn’t go any way. Look, I’m really sorry—do you want to file a complaint? I don’t know that the reps have any harassment rules that involve men and women, because we’re all women. But I’m sure corporate has some. Corporate’s run by a lot of men.”

  “How long have you been divorced?”

  Her eyes strayed to her hands. “How many more personal questions do you have?”

  Heath gave his broad shoulders a lift and followed it with one of those confident grins. “I dunno. I figure, seeing as you’re not my supervisor anymore, you’re fair game. Now we’re just acquaintances, and acquaintances make small talk, don’t they?”