Page 15 of Salty Pickle

Dawn sobers instantly. It’s about time she remembers who signs her checks. She hands Lucy the cups she’s holding. “I have to go. Please, do come find me if you need anything else. I have a baby girl, six months old. I know exactly what you’re going through.”

The two women hug like they’re old friends. It’s been precisely four minutes since Dawn entered the room.

What is with this instant bonding?

Dawn releases Lucy and hustles out to the hall.

Lucy sets down one of the cups and inspects the other. “What did she ever do to you?”

I glower at her, but Lucy pays no attention. She lifts the blankets from my desk and turns to the sofa, then back to me. “Were these for me?”

“The air conditioning is strong.”

“Huh.” She sets them on a chair, instantly drawing the goat.

“She’s going to eat that.”

Lucy ignores me to pop the lid off the top of the cup and sniff inside. “Nice. No petroleum products. I can work with these.” She fills her arms with a half-dozen of the cups. “Watch Matilda while I wash them.”

It’s not a question.

She disappears into the bathroom.

I stare at the goat, who has decided the blankets are not worth trying to eat. She looks at me, then in a wild, unexpected lunge, she jumps onto the desk.

I leap backward. What’s happening here? “Lucy!”

She pops her head into the room. “Oh, goats like to find high spots. She’s commanding the space.”

Then she disappears again.

I snatch up my keyboard before it gets trampled.

The goat walks across the surface, slipping occasionally, leaving scratches on the wood and tearing loose papers. So much for my reports.

Then she stands stock still, like she’s a statue guarding a town square.

She doesn’t move.

I don’t move.

I’m no longer sure whose office this is anymore.

5

LUCY

That man is a real peach. And by peach, I mean the hard, sour ones that never ripen.

Grandma BeeBee compared people to produce all the time.

Skinnier than a string bean.

Bitter as a winter lemon.

Hard-headed as a coconut.

Do I really want to be saddled with that man for eighteen to life?

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