by Megan Bryce
Delia said over his coughing fit, “You’d need to open and stir paint cans, carry things up and down an unnecessarily high ladder, move cover cloths, and wipe up spills.”
“I could do that in my sleep.”
Delia said wisely, “It is not the chore that is hard but the everlasting repetition that kills the spirit.”
“Is that a quote?”
“It should be.”
Jack cleared his throat loudly and Delia looked at him. “You going to make it?”
“I appreciate the thought, Delia. But working with you would not teach her the lessons I was hoping for.”
She raised an eyebrow at him but he merely said, “She’s already learned how to disrespect the CEO. And how to be late.”
“But has she learned how to do those things with flair?”
“I don’t want her to learn how to do those things with flair. I want her to learn how to show up and get the job done.”
Gus looked between them. “I’m sitting right here.”
Delia said to Jack, “Is your ceiling getting painted? The job’s getting done. I don’t know why getting there at the gong of a clock matters.”
“It shows respect.”
“It shows that you’re anal. And I respect my work. I may not respect you, I might not respect that pile of glass your money bought you, but every brush stroke on your ceiling is a part of my soul. You can see how I think, what I believe, who I am, who I wish I was in everything I paint. You could see that if you looked at it.”
Jack and Gus stared at her.
“Every bit of it has to come from within me, every bit of it open to five-second critiques, careless dismissals, and just flat-out dislike.”
She tried to hide it, she tried to hide what she really painted. But it was still there to be seen by any passing Joe if he cared to look hard enough.
She didn’t particularly want anyone to look hard enough. She especially didn’t want anyone looking too hard at the ceiling she was currently painting her soul into. It wasn’t a particularly flattering view of herself.
Jack said softly, “Why do you do it?”
“I can’t not do it. I’ve known what I wanted to do, what I had to do, forever.”
He nodded. “I’ve known what I was going to do, what I had to do, forever.”
Her gaze sharpened. “But it’s not what you want?”
“Want was never part of the equation.”
Gus ate her salad and flicked her eyes between them.
Delia said, “Want is always part of the equation.”
“Money is part of the equation, responsibility is part of the equation, duty is part of the equation.”
Delia looked down at the steak that money, responsibility, and duty had paid for.
She knew a lot of people would disagree with her, probably most people, but she thought too much money might be just as bad as not enough. She’d had plenty of experience with not enough. It was bad, she wouldn’t deny it. But there was a certain freedom in having nothing to lose.
She asked, “Do you think want is less important than money, responsibility, and duty?”
“Yes. Perhaps. I have always assumed so. Do you think it’s more important?”
“Yes. Maybe. I always have in the past.” Delia glanced at Gus. “But I live on my friend’s couch, so I might have been wrong. It might be just as important, not more than.”
Jack looked at Gus in her grown-up school uniform. “It might be just as important, not less than.”
Gus took a long drink, looking between the two of them with her eyebrows raised, then said, “Um, are we going to order dessert?”
Jack looked at her half-eaten salad and Delia’s half-eaten steak. “I don’t think so.”
Delia and Gus made faces at each other as their plates were cleared.
Jack handed over his card to the waiter and Delia perked up. “Expense account?”
He huffed a laugh. “No.”
They walked the short distance back to the offices and Delia breathed in the chill air. She said, “If you know anyone with a spare bedroom, let me know. I really miss sleeping in a room with a door.”
Gus nodded. “I’m looking for a place, too.”
Jack stared at her. “You are?”
“I can’t live with you and Mother forever.”
Jack looked like he’d thought that was exactly what she’d do. He’d looked like he’d expected to have to kick her out like Delia had told him to.
“And how are you going to pay for it?”
“I have a job.”
Delia and Jack stopped.
Gus turned slowly, trying so hard not to grin at them that her lips looked like little puckered berries. “I told you I was filling paperwork out all morning.”
Jack crossed his arms. “Who hired you?”
“HR. They needed someone to take applications and make copies and update the job openings. They wanted someone proficient in database but I told them I was quick with computers. I’ll learn.” She shrugged. “I told you they were looking for a best-case candidate. But they decided I’d do. I think they just wanted the ear of the CEO working in their office.”
“The ear of the CEO?”
“If I’m going to ride in with you every morning you’re going to be hearing about my work environment. I mean, really Jack, HR is the first place prospective employees see. Don’t you think it should look nice? Maybe a nice, painted ceiling?”
Delia looked at Jack and said, “I think she’s going to be just fine.”
Megan BryceSome Like It Perfect
Six
Monday morning, Jack was waiting for Delia when she entered the office. He rose, motioning her toward him. “Delia. There’s something I’d like to discuss with you.”
She peeled her coat off slowly and wondered if she was getting fired. And if she’d have to pay back the money.
He said, “You’re looking for an apartment?”
She cocked her head. “Yes.”
“Roommates?”
She stopped walking toward him. “Where is this going, Jack?”
“Gus wants to move out. She’s thinking about moving in with her boyfriend.”
Delia’s breath rushed out. “Ohhh.”
“Her friends have all gone off to college. She doesn’t want to live alone and I don’t want her living with her boyfriend.”
She blinked wildly. “And you thought of me?”
He nodded and sat back down. He twisted his computer screen around to show her a two-bedroom apartment not far from Justine’s.
Her eyes popped when she saw the rent. “I can’t afford that.”
He turned the screen back around to look at it again. “No?”
“No.”
“What can you afford?”
“Probably what you spend on toilet paper every month.”
He thought for a long moment, then said, “I have no idea what I spend on toilet paper in a month.”
Delia closed her eyes. “I meant, I can afford a pittance. To you it would be a pittance.”
“I don’t want my sister living in some crack den.”
“It’s not on my top ten, either. Surely there’s someone you know who she can live with. She doesn’t have to live with me.”
“There’s no one I know I would want her to live with. Except you.”
A little bubbly warmness filled Delia’s heart, and then she remembered the last time she’d gotten all warm and bubbly around him.
She narrowed her eyes. “Because?”
“I think you would be a good influence on her.”
“I distinctly remember you not wanting her to work with me because I wouldn’t be.”
“As a professional influence, no. As a personal influence, yes.”
Delia sucked in a deep breath and whispered, “I think that’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.”
He looked surprised. “It is?”
“You think I’m a good personal influence?”
“I would be very happy if Gus became a little more like you as a person. You’re outspoken, brave, optimistic, and unrepentant.”
“How do you know I’m optimistic?”
“You were Pippi Longstocking for Halloween. And you’re painting happy clouds on my ceiling.”
Delia looked up. “Do they look happy?”
“They look happy and purposeful.” When she tilted her head back down, he was looking right at her.
Delia started smiling stupidly, Jack’s lips started curving. She sat down with a thump.
“You don’t know me all that well. What if I’m just waiting for some young impressionable teenager to lure in.”
“Are you?”
“Not really. Living with a teenager doesn’t sound all that fun to me.”
“It’s not. Which is why I will help with your share of the rent.”
“Wait, wait, wait.” Delia held her hand up. “You want to pay me to live with your sister?”
“I want to pay you to live in a neighborhood I won’t worry about my sister living in.”
“I can’t decide which one of us should be more insulted.”
Jack said, “I don’t know why either one of you should be insulted. I would like my sister to live in a safe neighborhood. And I’d like to pay you to make it happen.”
“And what are you really paying me for? I’m not going to be spying on her and reporting to you.”
“Thank you. I’d prefer not to know what she was getting up to. I assume if her boyfriend is as bad as I fear, you’ll make your opinion known. Probably to the both of us.”
Well. He might know her a little better than she’d expected.
She said, “You think I’m going to be her babysitter?”
“Just an older, wiser female figure.” He saw her expression and said, “Like an older sister. Like a hip, older sister.”
“Just stop.”
He nodded and sat back in his chair.
Delia said, “What if I like him?”
“If you meet him, I would like a report.”
“You haven’t met him?”
He shook his head and she said, “Then how do you know he’s a bad influence?”
“Because she comes home drunk and high and–” He waved his hand around his face. “Mussed.”
“She’s eighteen. I think that’s the uniform.”
“And he rides a motorcycle.”
“Mmm. The siren song of a hog, luring innocent young women to their pleasurable destruction.”
Jack closed his eyes in pain and Delia took the opportunity to just look her fill. Maybe if she could freeze him for ten minutes a day, it would be enough. She could get over it and stop getting blindsided every time she looked at him.
He opened his eyes; googly time was over. She said, “Reporting on him instead of her feels like it’s splitting hairs, but I can see the distinction. I can tattle on him.”
He took a deep breath and the pinched look disappeared. She hadn’t realized it was there until it was gone.
“Thank you, Delia. I just couldn’t stand it if she moved in with him.”
“You’ve got a real prejudice against motorcyclists. And I didn’t say I’d live with her, just if I did I’d be willing to nark on him.”
“I’ve got a real prejudice about wild boys dating my younger sister.”
Delia crossed her arms and looked out the window behind him, trying to decide if this violated any of her principles.
She thought of Justine and what she’d say when she heard about this development and flicked her eyes back to Jack. “This isn’t some weird scheme to get in my pants, is it? You’re not going to be popping in unannounced to ‘get your money’s worth’, right?”
He blinked, then laughed. “No. There will be no dubious strings attached.” He laughed again, closing his eyes and shaking his head. “I’m not expecting anything from you except to live with my sister and help her become an adult. She needs a woman she can emulate.”
“You’re really making it hard to say no. And you’re really making it sound like work.”
“Gus needs to be around someone who treats her like an adult. Someone who doesn’t want anything from her.”
“You don’t think paying me to live with her counts?”
“No. Because I don’t think paying you will affect how you act toward her. When she’s ready to move on, you’ll tell her without a thought for the money.”
Oh, God. Sometimes he could say beautiful things to her. She wasn’t sure he knew they were beautiful.
Maybe she just hadn’t looked at him enough yet today and it was coloring his words.
Maybe he was doing it on purpose.
“I’ll think about it.” When she wasn’t looking at him.
Jack nodded. “I haven’t said anything to her about it yet. I thought you could bring it up at lunch.”
She stood, heading to her paints and saying over her shoulder, “I’ll think about it.”
But all she thought about was Jack telling her she would be a good influence on his sister.
When the three of them sat down to lunch, Delia said to Jack, “Before you order for me, I’d like chicken today.”
Gus said, “The chicken club is good. That’s what I want.”
Jack lifted an eyebrow at Delia and she nodded. He ordered three chicken clubs and Delia didn’t have to even glance at the menu.
Jack stared at her without blinking. Delia took a sip of water. She wasn’t going to just bring it up.
Jack tapped her with his shoe under the table.
Delia shook her head and he said, “Delia is looking for an apartment. What if you roomed with her instead of with Nate?”
Delia was impressed he was able to say the boy’s name without sounding like he wanted to vomit. She was not real impressed with his subtlety.
Gus looked at Delia. “Would you want to?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. You’re looking for somewhere to live, I’m looking for somewhere to live.”
Gus sat up. “The two of us? In a real apartment?”
She sounded excited about it. Maybe Nate didn’t live in a real apartment?
Delia narrowed her eyes. “I wouldn’t mind sharing an apartment with you. I don’t want to share an apartment with you and your boyfriend. I don’t mind him staying overnight once in a while, maybe just on the weekends. But if I ever see him in his underwear, or less than his underwear, he’s gone.”
Jack cleared his throat and Delia ignored him. “And no parties. I need my beauty sleep.”
Gus thought about it. She said, “You can’t say when I come home.”
“I don’t care when you come home. You’re an adult. Just don’t wake me up at three in the morning.”
“I can do that. Or not do that.”
Delia leaned forward. “Now, this is important. Have you ever cleaned your own bathroom?”
Gus wrinkled her nose. “No.”
“You will have to learn.”
“Can’t we just get a maid?”
“Can you afford a maid? Because I can’t. I don’t think peons who work in human resources can usually afford a maid.”
Jack said, “She’s not a peon. She owns part of the company.”
Gus said, “Only ten percent. Mother gifted me some of her shares when I turned eighteen. And I don’t even get the income, it goes into a trust.”
“Only ten percent?” Delia glanced up, shaking her head at the woman upstairs. “Why didn’t I get born into a family company? I, at least, would be grateful.”
Jack said to Gus, “I can release some of the funds for you. The restrictions are you must be in college or be gainfully employed. Partying every night isn’t gainful.”
Delia kicked Jack’s leg under the table and said, “Why aren’t you off at college? Even I went for a year. It was fun. It was a place to go to learn how not to be a kid. How to clean your own bathroom.”
Jack took a bite of chicken club, using his fork a
nd knife. “That’s what you learned in college?”
“I said I only went for a year. I also learned how to pour beer without too much foam.”
“Delia, she’s only eighteen. Don’t put ideas in her head.”
Gus said with a smirk, “I learned that in high school,” and Delia chuckled.
“Kids these days. They grow up so fast.”
Jack closed his eyes. “I paid way too much for that high school. And you wonder why she isn’t off at college?”
“Yep. Still wondering. I just doubt that all colleges would reject her because she already knows how to pour a beer.”
Gus said softly, “I didn’t get into Harvard.” She hung her head and whispered, “Not even waitlisted.”
Delia laughed at her obvious pain. “Don’t most people not get into Harvard?”
Gus looked up. “Do you know how embarrassing it is to not get accepted to a school that has your mother’s name and your brother’s name on buildings? Do you know how much money Jack gives them every year? I couldn’t even buy my way into a school.”
Jack said before Delia could even ask, “I’m an alumni.”
“Of course you are.” Delia crunched into a perfectly crisp, light and fluffy, golden french fry and said to Gus, “So you’re not going to go anywhere? That’ll show ‘em.”
“I’m just…reevaluating my options.”
“It’s not a bad idea. See how the regular people live. Maybe you should try to live on a regular people salary instead of being subsidized by your piddly ten percent.”
And okay, it would be good for the girl, but mostly Delia didn’t want to be subsidized either. It just felt wrong.
Jack said, “Only if it’s safe.”
Delia said, “It’s not like the choices are Beacon Hill or a crack den. We can find a regular apartment in a regular part of town.”
Gus sniffed. “I’d like just a regular apartment in a regular part of town like a regular person.”
Delia nodded. “Okay.”
Gus nodded. “Okay.”
Jack smiled at them, then he nodded. “Okay.”
When Jack handed his card to the waiter to pay for lunch, Delia caught a glance at it. “John F. Cabot. Not Jack?”
“My family calls me Jack.”
“What does the ‘F’ stand for.”
