Page 43 of Nerdplay
“I’d rather not. The service up here is spotty.”
“Sounds fine to me.”
“It’s unreliable. The call might get cut off, and then she’ll worry.”
“Call your mother, Charlie. It’ll take two minutes and you’ll both feel better.”
My mother only wants to ask me about the promotion. She’s probably preparing the speech for their anniversary party and wants to know which impressive details to include.
Unfortunately, I have no impressive details to share at the moment.
By the time I finish my call with Jeannie, leave a voicemail for my mother, and review all my outstanding messages, I realize it’s five minutes to six. Great. I’ve missed dinner and I’m about to be late for the movie.
My hand hovers over the knob as I reach the door. If Courtney is in the movie cabin with everybody else, maybe now would be a good time to search her office.
No. Too risky. Courtney isn’t stupid. She’ll notice if I’m the only one not in attendance and probably come looking for me. If she catches me rooting through her files, she’ll send me packing. Then again, if I never look because I’m scared of getting caught, how do I expect to find anything?
My heart starts to race again. I wasn’t cut out for this sort of work. I’m great in an office setting, complimenting the morning pastries or charming a new client. What I’m not great at is infiltrating what is essentially a family in order to destroy their lives. If I wanted to do that, I would’ve become a divorce lawyer.
I delay my plan until tomorrow and walk to the cabin designated for movie night.
“You-hoo, Charles. There’s a free seat next to me.”
My gaze swings to the left, where Angela is patting the empty chair beside her. An older gentleman tries to sit, and Angela pushes his leg, her predatory smile still fixed on me.
“I’ve got you, boo,” Courtney says, sweeping in and steering me to another row. She sits and hands me a bag of popcorn. “I thought you might be hungry. Missed you at dinner.”
“Yeah, I fell asleep,” I lie.
“Fresh air will do that to you.”
I stare down at the popcorn and, on cue, my stomach rumbles. “Thank you.”
“Welcome.”
Someone switches off the lights and darkness blankets the room. I’d fully intended to look up the movie in advance, but between my mad dash to the cabin and my catchup conversations, I’d completely forgotten. I remain buried in thoughts until colorful animated characters appear on the screen.
“Hey, this is a kids’ movie,” I whisper.
“No, Inside Out is a movie for all ages. You’ll see.”
The characters are personified emotions like Anger, Fear, Disgust, and Sadness.
And Joy. The only one I can’t relate to.
Everything in my life has always been so serious. So Very Important. I prefer the version of childhood that’s on the screen.
As the credits roll, I wipe a stray tear from my eye and hope I was discreet enough that no one notices.
“Hits you in the feels, right?” Courtney’s smile tells me that she didn’t miss it. Of course not. The woman notices everything. She’s like Poirot, Miss Marple, and Nancy Drew all rolled into one adorable package.
Did I call her adorable? Thank God that was in my head and not out loud or I’d never live it down.
“I enjoyed it. Thanks for inviting me.”
“You’re a camper now, Charlie. Everyone’s invited.”
The campers file from the building to head to the firepit, but I’m not in the mood to be social. I decide on an early night and head into the darkness.
