is crazy, she told herself. But her heart wasn’t listening. It was bouncing off her ribs. It’s a crowded place. Nothing can happen here. He was coming right up to her.
She felt the blood drain from her face. “Tina …”
It was a pager he was going for. The Latino man came directly up to her, stopped in front of her table. She almost jumped out of her chair.
“You work for Packer, don’t you?”
“What?”
“It’s Kate, isn’t it?” The Latino guy broke into a smile. “I was up in your office about a month ago. I work for Thermagen. You remember? I sell you the Dioxitribe.”
“Yeah.” Kate smiled, relieved. “It’s Kate …”
This was getting out of hand.
Later Kate was in the cramped computer room they called the library, copying over the results notes onto a CD. There was a knock. She turned around and saw Tina at the door. Looking puzzled and a bit concerned.
“You want to tell me what was going on back there?”
“You mean downstairs?” Kate shrugged guiltily.
“No. Italy. Junior year. Yes, of course downstairs. What’s going on, Kate? Some random guy comes up to you and you pretty much lose it—right in the cafeteria. You’ve been a little off all week. Lymphoblastic—the other day you filed it under cyclosporic. Is everything okay?”
“I’m not sure.” Kate wheeled her chair away from the computer. She took a breath. “I’m feeling a little weird. I don’t know, like I’m imagining things. You know, related to my dad.”
“Your dad?” Tina pushed herself up onto the counter. She didn’t have to have that explained to her. “Why now?”
“I don’t know. Something triggered it the other day.” She told Tina about the guy in the park with Fergus. “Maybe it’s just the trial being over and the fact that he’s out now. It’s like I’m imagining things, Teen. I feel a little like I’m going nuts.…”
“You’re not nuts, Kate. You lost your family. Anyone would understand that. So what does the good doctor have to say?”
“Greg? He says I’m just jumpy. And maybe he’s right. I mean, the other day I pretty well had myself convinced someone had toyed with our locks and broken into our apartment. Even Fergus was staring at me a little strangely.”
“I’ve heard they’re doing good work in acute schizophrenic paranoia at the medical center. Maybe Packer can get you a discount,” said Tina, holding back a smile.
“Thanks.” Kate scrunched her face in mock appreciation. “Maybe I’m just missing my family, Tina. It’s been over a year now.”
“I know what it is,” Tina said.
Kate looked at her friend. “What?”
“Labrafuckingphobia,” Tina said.
“Huh?”
“Labrafuckingphobia. Basically, you’re spending too much of your time in this goddamn place.”
“Right.” Kate laughed. “Thank God we caught it early. Symptoms?”
“Look in the mirror, honey. But fortunately I know the cure. You gotta get the hell out of here, Kate. Go home. Have a nice, romantic night with your honey. I’ll finish up tonight.”
“I’m sure you’re right.” Kate sighed, wheeling her chair back over to her workstation. “But I just have a little more work to do tonight.”
“I mean it.” Tina grabbed her arm. “Remember, I trump you. I’m a year closer to my Ph.D. Just get yourself home, Kate. You’re not crazy. You’re missing your family. Who wouldn’t be? Everyone knows what you’ve been through.”
Kate smiled. Maybe Tina was right. Maybe that was all she needed. Clear her head, curl up in bed with some Chinese food and some stupid Adam Sandler movie on pay-per-view. Do something romantic. Greg had even mentioned that he had the night off tonight.
“It wouldn’t exactly be torture to get out of here for a night.”
“Damn right. So do it, girl, before I renege. I’ll close up the place.”
Kate stood up and gave her friend a hug. “You’re a doll. Thanks.”
“I know. And, Kate …”
Kate turned at the door. “Yeah?”
Tina winked. “Try your best not to have a meltdown if the wrong guy sits next to you on the bus home.”
When Kate got home, there were candles lit all around the loft. The stereo was playing. Something soothing and romantic—Norah Jones.
Greg slid out to meet her, wearing his cheesy tuxedo T-shirt with a tie around his neck. “Signora Kate …” Fergus wagged his way up, a necktie wrapped around his collar, too.
Kate eyed Greg suspiciously. “Tina got to you, right?”
“Not me.” Greg winked, gesturing with his chin toward Fergus. “Him.”
Kate giggled, removing her jacket. “Okay, Casanova, what is it you have in mind?”
Greg led her over to the folding card table they had found at a thrift shop for five bucks, which he had centered in front of the windows. The Williamsburg Bridge was lit up beautifully. There was a flickering candle on the table and a bottle of wine.
“I waz about to pour ze 1990 Mazis-Chambertin,” Greg said in a silly, Clouseau-like accent, more his native Spanish than French, “but eenstead zere is its distant cousin, ze Two-Buck Chuck.” He poured. “All a third-year resident can afford.”
“Vintage 2006. July. Nice!” Kate giggled. Greg draped a paper napkin across her lap. “And to go with it …?”
“To go with it”—Greg made a flourish toward the kitchen—“our chef’s signature dish … the Beef in Green Curry and the Shrimp Pad Thai, served, as always, in their ceremonial tureens.”
Kate spotted a couple of take-out containers from their favorite local Thai restaurant still on a tray, chopsticks to the side.
She laughed approvingly. “Is that all?”
“‘Is that all?’” Greg sniffed derisively. “And for later, to make your romantic dream date complete …” From behind his back, he produced a DVD case.
Jack Black. School of Rock.
“Perfect!” Kate couldn’t help but laugh. Truth was, she could use something
