Page 23 of Dead Serious with Benefits
So yes, ‘long enough’ fit just fine, though I suppose ‘too long’ was the other option. We might have saved both of us a lot of heartache and bitterness if we had been thinking clearly.
Relationships had always been...difficult for me. Relationships required communication and understanding; the first, I strove to achieve but rarely managed. I tried to communicate as best as possible, but there always seemed to be some...gap between myself and others—something missing from the connection. As for understanding, again, that gap, that absence of...something, prevented understanding. People never understood me, and I could never quite get anyone to understand me.
There were exceptions, of course, as there were to any rule. So far, those exceptions existed only with my family. They did not understand me, and communication wasn’t the easiest at times, but they accepted me without question. They were the one reason I still had faith insomethingmeaningful.
“Sometimes I feel if I were able to read your mind, I would have enough information to fill book after book,” Mitchell said with a laugh, cocking his head. “I can practically see the thoughts racing through that head of yours, but I don’t have any idea what they might be.”
“There are books’ worth of stories and information locked away in every person,” I told him with a snort. “I am nothing special in that regard.”
“Not me,” he said with a shrug. “I’m pretty much an open book.”
“An open book does not contain more or less information than a closed one. I’m sure you have stories to tell, even if you don’t think of it that way.”
“You’re so difficult,” he said with a laugh that I hoped was full of fondness. Mitchell and I may never become true friends, but it would be nice to know there were more people than just my family who could at least accept me as I was. “It’s part of your charm.”
“I notice people talk about my ‘charm’ in ways that are never quite complimentary,” I noted as I opened the file and looked it over.
“Everyone has their own charm, yours is just unique.”
“You’re not saying anything that disproves my point.”
“Well, maybe one day someone will tell you what your charm is in a way that makes it feel like a compliment,” he said with a laugh, scooting forward. “Anything good today?”
“Do I need to point out that most people frown on referring to a death or a body as ‘anything good’?”
“Most people don’t have their professional lives saturated in death and grieving. After a while, if you don’t find some humor, or make it, you’ll get as uptight as Elaine, or uh, as weird as you...no offense.”
“None taken,” I said with a shrug. It wasn’t as if I didn’t realize I was weird. “And humor when surrounded by dark things is a normal human response. I was just pointing out that if you do that around others, say...Elaine.”
“We both know I could sneeze funny around her and she’d hate me,” Mitchell said with a laugh. “But fine, I get the hint thatI need to get out of your hair. I’ll leave you to work, I know you hate being distracted.”
“Order something for lunch,” I told him, grabbing my wallet from the drawer, sliding my card out, and handing it to him. “For all of us. Pick whatever, but let me know where you’re ordering from so I can choose.”
“You’re such a great boss,” he said with a grin, taking the card and sauntering off. “No matter what other people say.”
“The only thing people say about me is some variation of how weird I am and how cold I can be. They’re not talking about whether or not I’m good at my job, which I am...good try though.”
“One day, I’ll get you, I swear it.”
“I await the day.”
Mitchell chuckled as he walked out, and I listened for the sound of the hinges on the door, hearing the latch as he pulled, and then the sound of it closing. I waited several heartbeats before I shook my head, sure he was gone. I wouldn’t have put it past him to linger to make another attempt at startling me, but that was what the card and lunch were for. He might be determined to get one over on me, but he was also easily distracted by the promise of food, particularly free food.
I could say I understood people well enough to manipulate them into giving me some peace now and then.
I turned back to the file before getting paper and a pen from one of the desks. There was plenty of technology I could use to get the job done, but something about manually writing notes and thoughts appealed to me.
Setting the pad down, I opened my phone and flipped through Spotify before settling on a playlist with a little bit of everything. As much as I enjoyed quiet time, there was such a thing as too much quiet. The music was background noise; I could block out the emptiness that filled the preparation rooms.
My eyes lingered on my phone for a moment before I shook my head, returned to the file, and began to look it over. It had been put together by Elaine and Mitchell, and I appreciated the work they put into it.
Elaine had put together the part that dealt with the damage done to the body and compiled the coroner’s report so I would know what physically needed to be addressed. Mitchell had gone through the process of talking to what loved ones of the deceased could be reached and were willing to talk. That way, we had a good idea what to include with the service, or at least to suggest to the people in charge of the arrangements. Sometimes, even those in charge of setting things up were too frazzled with grief to think of the details, and having this kind of information made it easier for us to help them.
By all accounts, she was a normal woman. Twenty-three years old, had graduated the year before from the local college with a double major in political science and sociology. According to her family, she didn’t have a lot of friends, but she was apparently a friendly, outgoing girl from middle school onward. I thought it was telling that she didn’t have close friends anymore, but I suppose I didn’t have much room to talk. It wasn’t like I had many friends other than my siblings, and most people didn’t count sibling relationships.
She graduated with a 3.8 and became an aide to the mayor. According to accounts from the rest of the office, she had also been perfectly ‘normal’ and friendly. She’d lived by herself in a nice apartment in a decent part of the city, with a couple of cats, apparently citing that her two boys were all she needed when it came to love and dating.
She was a knitter, enjoying sitcoms from the nineties despite being young enough to have missed them at their peak. She was apparently big on finding nature trails dotted around the city’s outskirts and exploring them. Apparently, she was fond ofbringing her cats with her on those excursions, equipped with leashes and harnesses and a specialized carrier that allowed her to put them into a backpack whenever the cats were tired or it was too dangerous for them.
