She knew the signs. Irritability, loss of appetite,
jumpiness. He seemed to anticipate the
slightest sound, as if someone were sneaking up on him. It had to be love.
Holly kept a close eye on Elliot. She
noticed that he couldn’t keep his eyes off of the accounting supervisor,
Mallory. And why not? He confided that his loneliness since his break-up with
Perla two months prior was unendurable. He liked long hair. Mallory was
unattached and had hair past her shoulders. Perfect match!! Now to draw him
out.
“I watched those hilarious horse
pranks on You Tube that you mentioned. Who knew horses were so devious? You
should tell Mallory about them. I heard she rides.”
“What? Nah, I can’t just drop over
to her desk and order her to watch something. I barely know her.”
Shy. How cute.
“And speaking of horses, she’s got a
nice mane of hair herself. So thick and glossy, and long.”
Elliot rolled his eyes at her and
turned back to his spreadsheet.
That weekend, Holly confided to a
friend she’d known since college, Elizabeth, that she had just two real
friends, Elizabeth and Elliot. Elizabeth decided that this was her chance to
finally reset her thinking on this oft returned-to subject.
“Oh come on. You have more friends
than that.”
“No, I really don’t. I don’t know
how to get things started.”
“Okay, here’s something I heard on a
radio interview. You’re supposed to be fearless and unassuming when you
approach people. You know, like a friendly dog.”
“Is that right! Thanks for that! I
should be a dog.”
“Yeah,” said Elizabeth realizing
this wasn’t going well. “You know. Dogs aren’t stiff or competitive. They just
wanna get to know you.”
“So I’m stiff and competitive. Huh.
Thanks some more.”
“No, no, no. When you’re a dog you
can make someone like you right away, regardless of what you look like or say.
Not that dogs say anything…”
“I’m also not too good looking, and
I should not talk. Got it.”
Holly got off the phone shortly
after that. Elizabeth chewed her lip.
Back at work Holly mused that after
that noxious phone call with her supposed old friend it was a good thing she
had Elliot. She gave a warm hello when he arrived at his desk.
Elliot grunted in reply and buried
himself in his work.
This response convinced her to
execute her little plan. If Elizabeth was going to be unsympathetic, and Elliot
was too dam busy, she’d just have to branch out and find new people. She’d be bold
and daring yet unpretentious and down-to-earth. She took lunch early and ‘bumped
into’ Sherry from IT in the company ‘dinateria.’
“Hi Sherry, I noticed that you
usually eat alone at the corner table. Mind if I sit with you?”
“Sure. No. Not at all. Come sit.”
What Holly hadn’t noticed was that
Sherry always brought a section of the Times to lunch with her. Lunch proceeded
with short answers from Sherry in between longing looks at her crossword, and awkward
attempts at conversation by Holly.
As each went back to her own
department Holly thought Sherry needed some of that dog advice, and Sherry decided
to eat at her desk.
Holly saw Elliot talking to Mallory.
They were walking into the meeting room. Aha! Then she noticed a message from
her meet-up group on her phone mail.
“Hey Holly, we’re gonna meet at the
Bear Mountain trail, south of the turnpike this Saturday at 10 AM. Bring lunch
and binoculars. Western tanagers and Mountain chickadees are astir in the
woods. Don’t forget your tick spray! Bye!”
Holly smiled to herself. Now she had
plans; she didn’t need her less-than attentive friends.
Friday rolled around and Elliot,
used to the near-constant asides from Holly across the aisle, realized that she
hadn’t been as interactive as usual. He thought she was a typical needy single
woman. But now that she was silent, he missed her chatter. He got two coffees
and waved them under her nose. She started, so engrossed was she in her work.
“Let’s get some air,” he said.
Outside on Madison Avenue, breathing
the sweet, exhaust-congested air of temporary freedom, Elliot made attempts at
idle chatter. Holly seemed subdued.
“See that bird perched on the curved
street light?” she said. “He may look like a sea gull to you, but actually he’s
a drone commissioned by a talent scout to find the next new stars for the
‘Hunger Games’. Quick, suck in your cheeks. We may have a shot.”
At first, Elliot played along. Then
he caught on.
“Why are we talking about a sea
gull? You talk about incidentals when you’re avoiding something. What…”
“I just want to point out that we’re
being watched, that’s all,” said Holly a bit defensively.
“What’s really on your mind?”
“Did I ever tell you that my cat,
Sunshine, dips her paw into my glass of ice water and licks it off her fur? How
many times you think I didn’t know she did that and drank from that glass? Hasn’t
killed me yet!”
“Holly...”
“What time we got? If I smoked my
cigarette would be finished by now!”
She turned, tossing her paper coffee
cup into a trash can. Elliot followed her through the heavy glass doors of
Grassi and Co.
At home, Holly ignored three phone
calls from Elizabeth in succession, just as she had neglected to answer several
texts during the day. She began the Zen-preparations of baking an apple coconut
monkey bread to bring to share with her meet up group. A glass of wine
furthered the disconnect from minor disappointment, subtle rejection, and
loneliness that she often felt on Friday night.
She had a date with Terry Pratchett and Stephen Baxter after all. “The
Long Utopia”, their literary collaboration, had her transfixed.
On Saturday morning, Holly stuffed
her loden green pack with the essentials of a bird-watching hike, grabbed her
red sun visor and joined the bird lovers. She wore the club tee shirt which was
sapphire blue with white splotches across the shoulders, and the embroidered
bird with binoculars logo on the left side. She was completely surprised to see
Elliot standing to the side of the collective, conversing with the group leader.
When he saw her he strode over.
“I know you’re surprised to see me
here but I remembered that you joined this group and looked it up on line.”
Holly opened her mouth to speak, closed it without a sound and smiled up at
him. “Whoa, is that bird shit on your tee shirt?” he asked laughing as he
glanced around. “Looks great on you.”
Holly swatted his arm and said, “If
you prove yourself worthy you too may someday sport the colors of those who
have their eyes on the birds.”
The dulcet strains of Vivaldi’s lute
concerto in D, second movement, emitted from her phone. She waited and heard
the guitar riff that indicated the caller had left a voice mail. She listened
and heard, “Holly, I miss you. No one endures my crap like you do! Call me!”
“That was Elizabeth. She needs me.
Later. Ever see a mountain chickadee? It’s just breathtaking. Way better than
any old drone sea gull…”
(1,215 words)
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