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‘Is that why he dressed like that?’ George asks.
‘He’s coming back, right?’ Chase asks.
‘I’m coming back,’ I call as I reach the stairs.
‘Oh. Cool.’
A minute later, I lay what I’d been working on since I woke hungover yesterday on the coffee table.
Chase is nearest. He flips it open, turning it to make sure everyone can see.
As they all lean over and look, it feels as if ants are crawling up my spine.
Chase straightens. ‘The pictures are… great.’ He bares his teeth in a grimace. ‘But I'm not gonna lie. This could either come off very sweet or extremely creepy.’
Bell smacks his arm. ‘I think it’s sweet.’ Her smile wavers. ‘I mean, as long as you know Thomas, it’s not creepy.’
George bites his lower lip. ‘I vote it’s creepy.’
I drop my chin to my chest. After Mother told me to find what I’m good at, the only thing I could come up with was photography. I went through all my archives, putting together an album with all the pictures I ever took of Alice. I was astounded by the amount of them. They aren’t all of just her, like Chase said, that would be creepy. There are group shots. Work shots. Some she isn’t even in, they’re just pictures of some of the floor displays she designed that I told myself would make a good picture. But when you put them all together – it’s overwhelming.
Mother collects the album. ‘I’ll make sure she gets it.’
‘You?’ Chase asks. ‘I’m not sure this is the time Thomas should be delegating. This is groveling time.’
‘This will work to soften her up. Think of it as your dancing Elvises.’
Chase looks like someone insulted his cat. ‘You’re comparing my flash mob of Elvises in a honky-tonk bar to a stalker—’
Bell elbows him in his gut.
‘Okay, okay.’ Chase rubs his stomach. ‘What else you got?’
I stare at them.
‘Anything?’ Bell asks, looking hopeful.
‘I…’ Sweat breaks out on my brow. ‘I love her.’
Their expressions all shout ‘duh’.
‘That’s a great start, dear,’ Mother says. ‘Now try to sound as if it isn’t killing you to say it.’
Chase flops on the sofa. ‘What Thomas needs is a way to say something without saying something. Like the photo album but less creepy.’
‘But it needs to be something important to Alice,’ Bell adds. ‘It can’t just be about Thomas.’
‘And what about Mary?’ George asks. ‘Should she be a part of this too?’
As they bounce ideas back and forth, an idea forms, but it’s... I shift in my seat, uncomfortable at the thought.
Ignoring it, I power through. ‘George.’
‘Yes?’
‘I need you to call Human Resources and do three things for me.’
‘You got it.’
