âMidge, it's me. Pulpy.'
âI know who it is.'
âI just wanted to call.' He took two tiny steps forward and two tiny steps back. âDid anything neat happen on your route today?'
âI was sleeping,' she said. âYou woke me up.'
âBut it's lunchtime.'
âSo? I make my own schedule around here, in case you didn't know.'
Neither of them spoke for a moment, and then Midge said, âHow's the
receptionist
?'
The food court was bustling behind Pulpy but he tuned it out. He felt like the two of them were in a cocoon. He reached out a fingertip and pushed the gum wrapper to the edge. âShe's not in today.'
âWell, la-di-da for her, then.'
âI think Dan and Beatrice are going to fire her.'
âWhy are you telling me this?' she said. âYou think I care about her?'
He shuffled his feet. âDid you talk to anybody else this morning?'
âWhat do you mean? I told you I just woke up.'
âI slept at Dan's last night. I slept at Dan's and I don't know what happened.' Pulpy loosened the unfamiliar tie around his neck. âHe wanted me to eat steak for breakfast.'
âI think Beatrice stayed over at our place.' She made a sniffing noise. âIt smells like her in here.'
âShe did stay over.' He gave the wrapper the tiniest nudge and it fell off the side and floated to the floor. âEverything's all mixed up.'
Midge let out a sob. âYou went drinking with the receptionist!'
â
Friendly
drinking!'
âThat's the worst part!'
âShh,' he said. âMidge, it's okay.'
âIt's
not
okay!' She hiccupped and then made rummaging sounds. âI can't find my clamdiggers!'
He cleared his throat. âThat's because Beatrice is wearing them.'
There was silence on the other line.
âBut I'm wearing Dan's clothes,' he said, âso we're even.'
âWhat is going
on
here?' she shouted.
âI don't know. But I'll be home soon.'
âMeet me at the mall after work,' said Midge. âI have to buy some new shoes.'
When Pulpy came back from lunch, Dan was sitting on the receptionist's desk. âI'm glad you're back, Pulpy,' he said. âThere's been a development.'
Beatrice was making photocopies. âWe're assembling an official record.'
âWhat are you talking about?' said Pulpy.
âWe know where she went today,' said Dan.
â“Don't look for easy answers to hard questions,”' said Beatrice. âSound familiar? And she left the evidence in the recycling bin, in case you were wondering.'
âBeatrice says you were snooping around her desk earlier today,' said Dan. âWhy were you doing that, Pulpy?'
âI needed a file.'
âAre you sure about that?'
Pulpy's hands opened and closed. âAnd it's not Beatrice's desk.'
âIsn't it, now?' said Dan. âI think it is. Because first thing tomorrow, when the
receptionist
walks in here with all her new performance-improvement knowledge, she's going to find out she doesn't have anywhere to sit in this office anymore.'
âMeaning she won't have a job,' said Beatrice.
Pulpy looked between them. âCan't you give her another chance?'
âShe
lied,
Pulpy,' said Dan.
âWhat kind of an eager envoy behaves that way?' said Beatrice.
Dan shook his rectangular head. âSo much for the “Samaritan pretense.”'
Pulpy moved past them and climbed the first step. âI have to get back to work.'
Beatrice snickered and sat down at the desk. âYou have a soft spot for that secretary, don't you?'
âI don't.' He stood there with one foot in the air. âI don't have any spot for her.'
The three of them were quiet for a moment, and then Dan jogged over and slung an arm around Pulpy's shoulders. âLeave the man alone, will you?' he said to Beatrice, and gave Pulpy a squeeze. âWhy don't we switch gears and go have a talk, you and me? Just give me a minute here, and you go on up to my office and grab yourself a piece of that soft hide you like so much.'
Beatrice smirked. âHe means the loungers.'
âI know what he means.' Pulpy climbed the rest of the stairs and then hurried into Dan's office.
He folded himself into one of the deep leather chairs and crossed his legs. Then he uncrossed them and put his hands on his knees. He looked at the receptionist's duck mug sitting on Dan's mouse pad, which had a cartoon of a lion wearing a business suit with a word bubble that said, âI'd rather be at the watering hole!'
Pulpy missed the old boss and his quiet nature statuettes. He wished he'd rescued them â especially the camel â from the garbage when Dan threw them out, but he'd missed his chance and now they were all long gone. He hoped at least that they were still together, keeping each other company.
He glanced toward the door then and reached out quickly to grab the receptionist's mug by the handle. He stuck it under Dan's big shirt and whispered, âNot another crisis â you're safe with me, duck.' He checked to see if the small bulge was noticeable but he couldn't be sure, so he hunched over a little.
Dan bounded into his office then and launched himself backward into his chair. He looked at his mouse pad for a
second, then shrugged and smiled at Pulpy. âI told Beatrice to lay off. Sometimes my wife gets a little hyperactive.'
âOh no, that's ⦠she's fine.'
Dan's grin widened. âI'm glad you noticed.' Then he frowned. âPlease don't abuse our trust, Pulpy.'
He felt the cool ceramic heating up against his skin. âSorry?'
âTrust is all we have. Once it's gone, you might as well forget it.'
Pulpy felt the mug roll across his stomach. He stiffened and grabbed it through the shirt.
âYou all right over there?' said Dan.
âYes. Ow. I had a pain. But it's gone now.'
âGood stuff, good stuff.' Dan crossed his arms and nodded. âOh, the joy of it, eh, Pulpy?'
He tried to sit as naturally as he could without exposing the mug. âUm, the joy of what, exactly?'
âOf this! Of me and you, here. Doing work. Doing
our jobs.
If it wasn't for men like us, being in offices, accomplishing things, then where would we be?'
âI guess nowhere.'
âNowhere is right! Nowhere is absolutely â Hold on one minute.' Dan picked up his phone and punched zero. âBeatrice? Can you come up here, please?' He listened. âForget about the front desk. The front desk can wait.' He hung up and fixed his gaze on Pulpy. âAnd that is terrifying, isn't it? Being nowhere. Not belonging, when it comes down to it. Not having a community to call your own.'
âI suppose that might be scary, yes,' said Pulpy, âbut I'd have Midge, so it wouldn't be so bad.'
Dan scowled for a second, and then beamed at his doorway. âThere she is!'
Pulpy turned to see Beatrice leaning against the doorframe.
âHello again, gents,' she said.
âNow, Pulpy,' said Dan. âAl told me before he left that you're in line for a promotion, is that right?'
Pulpy straightened in the chair, struggling against the softness, and swallowed. âYes?'
âDon't say, “Yes?” like that, like a question. Say it like you mean it!'
âYes!'
Beatrice stepped into the office and closed the door behind her.
âYou've been doing good work around here, Pulpy.' Dan put his arms in the air and stretched. âBut not quite good enough. You were late again today, for example.'
Pulpy pushed his neck back against the slick leather behind him. âBut I came in with you. And you gave me flex hours.'
âThe flex hours only come into effect if you get all your work done. And I don't see you organizing the company Frisbee tournament, now do I?'
âFrisbee?'
Dan crossed his big arms over his massive chest. âDo I?'
âWell no, I suppose not. But I didn't â What Frisbee tournament?'
âFor the company. How are you at Frisbee, Pulpy?'
âI bet he's a whiz!' said Beatrice.
Pulpy's eyes widened. âWell, I think I've played it once or twice, when I was younger.'
âI'll bet you have,' said Dan. âAnd you've got the physique for it too.'
âYou really do!' said Beatrice, and sat down on the arm of his chair.
Pulpy reddened and quickly looked down at himself. Only the tips of his fingers were visible outside the voluminous sleeves of Dan's suit jacket. âI don't know. I've never heard that before.'
âBut people have
thought
it before,' said Dan. âAnd that's why you're the team captain.'
He looked from Dan to Beatrice and back to Dan again. âBut it's winter.'
âIt's never too early to be prepared. We'll round everybody up in the boardroom tomorrow so you can choose the teams. Now go ahead, Pulpy.' Dan leaned forward. âYou can tell us. Who's your first pick?'
âI â I don't know.'
Beatrice rested a hand on the top of his head. âHow about me?'
Pulpy felt the warmth of her palm through his hair to his scalp. âWell, sure. Okay.'
Dan clapped his hands together, once, and the
crack
they made filled the room. âSleep on it,' he said. âYou've got some big decisions to make.'
âI'm looking for something open-toed,' Midge told the shoe clerk. She already had her boots off. âBut they have to be wide, and they can't show
too
much toe. Just a hint.'
âJust a hint of toe.' The clerk was wearing a jaunty cardigan. He fingered one of the large, colourful buttons that ran down the front and appraised Midge's pantyhosed feet.
âBut it's the winter,' said Pulpy loudly. âYour toes will be cold in shoes like that.'
She gave him a look that was as close to a sneer as Midge got. âThe summer's coming.'
âI suppose it is.' He watched the clerk kneel down with a measuring device and guide Midge's foot into the metal hollow.
âEight.' The clerk smiled. âThat's a good size.'
Midge bowed her head. âThank you.'
Pulpy poked at a pair of loafers on display. They were burgundy and canoe-shaped, with a jagged ridge on the sole.
The clerk swivelled his efficient oval head. âDid you want to try those on?'
âNo.' He shoved his hands into his coat pockets, and in the left one he felt the reassuring shape of the receptionist's duck mug.
âI need to make sure my heel is tightly held in,' said Midge. âI need a snug fit.'
âWe have a full range of strappies.' The clerk motioned her to a rack where several pairs of brownish open-toed shoes were lined up next to a high price tag. âThey're leatherette.'
âOoh!' she said. âI'd like to try on a pair of those.'
âI'll be right back.' The shoe clerk disappeared into the rear storage space.
âI'll be right here,' she said, and sat on the cushioned bench next to the foot mirror.
Pulpy rested a hand on her shoulder.
Midge flicked a glance his way and dislodged him with a hard shrug. âIt's a beautiful strappy. I hope it fits me.'
âI'll have to see it on you. It's a lot of money for not very much shoe.' He stood back and looked at her feet with their delicate ribbons of blue veins showing through her nude hose. She was pointing and unpointing her toes while she waited.
The clerk reappeared with an open white box and handed Midge a shoe from inside. âThere was only one size eight left,' he said. âLooks like fate to me.'
Midge reddened and wedged her foot into the proffered sandal.
âThey're perfect,' said the clerk.
âHmm,' said Pulpy. âYour skin is sort of sticking out of the holes.'
âIt's supposed to do that,' she said in a mean voice, and then blinked up at the clerk. âIsn't it?'
âOh yes,' he said.
âI don't know,' said Pulpy.
âThey're very supportive, with the straps.' Midge pushed her finger against the three small triangles of her soft, white flesh that bulged out between the thin strips of leather.
Then the clerk reached out and touched them too.
âAll right,' said Pulpy. âThat's it.'
âExcuse me?' said the other man, his stubby finger still on Midge's skin.
Pulpy felt acutely aware of every corner of the room. The shelves and racks of shoes and boots stood at attention all around him. âGet your hands off my wife. Right now.'
âPulpy!' Midge's mouth was a perfect circle.
The clerk retracted his hand in a rush, almost falling backward with the effort, and pocketed it in his cardigan. âI'm sorry,' he said, âI didn't mean â'
âCome on, Midge,' said Pulpy. âWe're leaving.'
She stared at him and for a moment she just sat there. But then she said, âOkay,' and pulled on her boots. She moistened her lips and hopped to her feet and they left the store together.
âOh, Pulpy!' said Midge.
âOh, Midge!' said Pulpy, but it came out more like âMmft, Mmdge!' with her ear filling his mouth. He was frantic for her.
Midge had wide, downy ears that Pulpy liked to pretend to eat. He liked her to feel him humming around those ears.
She pressed her fingertips against his neck and he felt all five of them â small, circular points of even pressure, cool at first but then warming.
They were half on, half off the loveseat, both delighted that they hadn't made it to the bedroom.
âThe way you talked to him,' said Midge. âI loved the way you talked to him!'
He released her ear with a slurp. âI loved it too!'
She tugged at Dan's belt, which Pulpy had buckled to the tightest hole.