Chapter 11

"Jane, let's go down to the canteen," Jen said.

Tim had again treated them to lunch. He had sent Jen to a deli, and Jane had again ordered whatever Tim was eating, this time a turkey and bacon double-decker with potato salad. She had taken a huge bite of the oversized sandwich when Jen made her request. She looked at the phone.

"Don't worry about that," Jen said. "Tim said to hold all of his calls so we'll just have everything go to voicemail."

Jane wrapped up her sandwich and followed Jen not sure if they shouldn't at least tell Tim that they'd be in the canteen.

"I needed a break from him," Jen confessed once they were in the elevator. "I'm going to be spending days putting together his legal notebook for his next case, and frankly the man's scribbling is impossible to read! Plus, if he gives me one more tape recording to transcribe I'm going to go nuts!" Jane noticed that Tim talked into a tape recorder. It seemed better than writing everything down in shorthand, so she didn't know why Jen found so much to complain about.

The elevators opened up on a floor that wasn't much different from their own. But at the end of the hall was an open area with vending machines, microwaves, and several tables and chairs. It was crowded, but she followed Jen to a table where three other women were talking and eating.

"Hey there, where have you been hiding?" an older, white-haired woman said.

"Mr. Singleton has court this entire week," Jen said.

They all went "ahh" at the same time, as if that statement held special significance.

Jen gestured to Jane and introduced her. Everyone at the table told their names, and she discovered that each worked as an assistant to one of the partners. Jane found it hard to eat her sandwich under their scrutiny.

"You didn't come out of AdWork Temp Service?" Lois, the white-haired woman, asked.

"No," Jane said.

"How did you get in as an assistant?" a black woman named Claudette asked.

Jane was unsure how to proceed. She remembered what Tim had said about being dropped into the position and about how others worked hard to get a chance at being an assistant. "Sister Louise helped me."

"Sister?" Lois asked.

"Well … I …" Jane knew from past experience that people looked at girls that live in convents strangely. "Sister Louise is a nun." She looked at her potato salad with nothing else to say.

After a moment Jen filled in the prolonged quiet with a story about her deadbeat boyfriend and his juvenile delinquent son. Jane felt out of place and sat listening as she nibbled her potato salad.

"Where are you from, Jane?" Claudette asked. "You have a beautiful accent."

"Africa."

"Wow, girl, you're really from Africa?" Claudette asked.

Jen blushed. "I thought you were from the Middle East."

Claudette gave Jen a sharp, disapproving look before turning her attention back to Jane. "Where in Africa?"

"Outside of Kigali."

Claudette stared at her, but Lois gushed about Africa and asked her questions about how long she'd lived in the States.

Jane was relieved when Jen interrupted to indicate that they had better get back up before the grumpy bear moved out of his den.?

Lois shook her head. "Tim hasn't gotten over his wife's death."

"Well, that doesn't mean that he should take out his frustrations on me and Jane," Jen said.

Jane stumbled when she heard what Lois said. The picture of the pretty lady … the ever-present look of anger. She should have recognized that look. She'd seen it time and time again in the faces of the girls at St. Bartholoma.

"When did … when did she die?" Jane asked.

"Almost a year ago," Claudette said. "Breast cancer. She used to be his assistant. She actually did what a lot of girls think they can do—marry the boss." Claudette glanced at Jen and then looked away.

Jen covered her mouth. "Oh God. I didn't realize. I mean, I knew she had died, but no one told me she used to be his assistant!" Jen's face turned red. "Oh my God. I made the stupidest comment about the filing system. No one said she was the assistant! Why didn't you all tell me?"

No one even bothered to look at Jen, and Jane knew something that Jen hadn't figured out. They didn't like her, and they hadn't told her anything—they'd told Jane.

"Nice to meet you,"?Jane said shyly.

"Come down anytime, Jane," Claudette said. "We always sit at this table if we're not outside enjoying the sun."

Jane smiled. "Okay, I will."

Jane was stunned by what she'd learned. Tim came to work every day, passed the desk where his wife had worked, stared at the picture of her, and went through each day wearing her loss like a mask on his face. Her heart ached for his pain.

The week moved swiftly. She soon became comfortable with the routine that she and Jen come up with. It allowed her to focus on the typing and Jen to work more closely with Tim. As much as she complained about him, Jen certainly made sure she was the one that was always in Tim's company. Jane liked what she did, but it did feel awkward when it became obvious that Jane was referring to him as Tim, and Jen was still formally referring to him as Mr. Singleton.

Jen chided her for it, and Jane confided that he'd told her to do so. After that Jen began referring to him as Tim as well.

II

When Friday arrived, Jane was excited. She could barely wait to meet the love of Dhakiya's life. Her friend would pick her up from work, and they would visit for a while before Rodney arrived.

Since Friday was dress-down day and she wanted to look nice for dinner, Jane wore black slacks instead of her customary skirt and a colorful blouse that flowed to mid-thigh. She put on bangles, six on each wrist, and she replaced her crucifix with a fine gold chain. In her ears dangled gold loops. And instead of her customary bun, Jane sectioned her hair and twisted each into intricate designs. At first she was afraid that she might get into trouble for dressing so vibrantly. But then she decided that no one would have the nerve to tell an African not to dress like an African. And that thought made her laugh.