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to talk about besides work, I asked, “How long
have you had this job?”
    Click. “Awhile.” Click. “I don’t remember.”
Click. “I lose track of time.”
    “So do I. Can’t believe I’ve been here almost
six months already.” I fished for something not job related to talk
about and then wondered why I was having this conversation with the
janitor, who probably had things he was supposed to be doing. “I
suppose I should get going and let you get to work.”
    There was a brief rap on the door, and Cindy
stuck her head in. “Anna, you’re still here.”
    “Uh, yeah.” I bolted up from the chair as if
my butt had been burned.
    Her gaze shot between me and Jason. Back to
me. Back to Jason. It was almost comical, but not.
    “I was just showing him the stuck drawer in
the, uh, file cabinet.”
    Back to Jason. Back to me. “Okay. So, some of
us are going to Flamenco’s for drinks. Wanna come?”
    “Sure. I’ll be right there.”
    “Great.” Back to Jason. “If you have time,
could you clean the window in my office? I know windows probably
aren’t part of your job, but there’s a big puddle of bird crap on
the glass, and who knows when they’ll get a window washer in to
take care of it.”
    Jason dropped the pen on my desk and rose.
“Sure. Which office?”
    “Two doors down on the right.”
    “I’ll take care of it.” He moved from behind
my desk and toward the door. Cindy stepped aside as he walked past
and gave me what-the-hell? eyes behind his back.
    I shrugged. I was second-guessing that drink
at Flamenco’s. Cindy was not going to drop this without questioning
me, and I had no intention of explaining anything. Hell, I couldn’t
even find a good explanation for myself.
     

Chapter Three
    That night, as I scrubbed bird poo off a
windowpane, the nip of ammonia stinging my nose, I felt pretty
good. I’d hoped to catch a glimpse of Anna and maybe exchange
hellos. Having an entire conversation exceeded my expectations.
    I had a hard time focusing on work, though,
and jerked from an Anna-induced trance about five minutes later,
still rubbing the same pane of glass. This was exactly why I was
stuck doing an undemanding job. Sometimes I had trouble keeping on
task. Give me the pressure of working in a fast-food joint and I
was liable to lose my shit. I was sure as hell never going to take
over the family business as my dad had once envisioned.
    My dad liked to point out that there’s honor
in any work so long as you do it to the best of your ability. I
once told him maybe I should work in the porn industry since it was
something I had an affinity for. He wasn’t amused.
    With the pane sparkling, I closed the window
and returned to my regular routine. It should’ve been like
breathing, I’d done it so many times, but that evening I had to
refer to the laminated sheet on my cart a few times in order to
remember all the tasks on my list.
    I was starting on the second-story offices
when my cell phone rang. Mom. I didn’t want to talk to her, but
guilt won out, so I answered. She wasted no time getting down to
business.
    “Jason, I wish you’d quit ignoring my texts.
You know I worry when you don’t check in.”
    “Still here, Mom. Nothing new to say.”
    “Did it ever occur to you maybe I have
things to say? Maybe I’d like to hear your voice once in a while
without having to hound you? Never mind. I called to remind you
about your dad’s birthday party. Write it down, and I’ll remind you
again on the day.”
    “It’s already written down. You don’t need to
remind me. I’ll be there.” I’d be there gritting my teeth and
smiling no matter what. It was the least I could do.
    “Also, Katie misses you. Even if you don’t
want to spend time with your father and me, you owe it to your
little sister to be there for her. You haven’t gone to any of her
soccer games. There’s one coming up on Sunday.”
    Guilt upon guilt. “Okay. Text me the
information. I’ll make a game unless