Adolph met Nancy at McGill’s. It wasn’t anything fancy, but it was suitable, and Nancy didn’t have much of an appetite to begin with.
She was nervous, her stomach twisted with tension. Her bowels…they were ‘irritable’. She ordered a clear broth, with extra soda crackers, and an herbal tea. Chamomile. She had to admit, it calmed her.
He settled for a club sandwich, but left it half-finished, out of deference to her, and had the bus boy clear his plate well before she was done. She needed time, and he had plenty of that. He didn’t need to rush her.
Finally, she sighed, a satisfied sigh, and was visibly relieved, as she touched the napkin to her lips, and set it down.
“Feeling better?” he asked.
“Much. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. It’s only ‘lunch’.”
“No. I mean thank you for your patience. It’s much appreciated. I…have troubles with…”
“It’s fine. Not to worry.”
“…and, thank you for lunch…and the company.”
“My pleasure. Please…”
“Very well. I guess we’d better address why you asked me here, in the first place.”
“If you’d like.”
“I would.”
“Very well. I am here to say, ‘Your Father Passed Away’. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I never knew my Father. Makes no difference to me.”
“He regretted that, in the end.”
“Well, that’s a fine time to regret, isn’t it?”
“I can’t defend…”
“I don’t expect you to. One hell of a goodbye note… What am I supposed to do with that information, file it under ‘Tidy’, and forgive him? HA!”
“Hardly…”
“What’s he done for me, ever?”
“Left a large void, I would imagine.”
“A void ? …a void? As in ‘avoid’ ? That’s right, he Avoided me.”
“He left you this.” He slid the folder across the table. She stared at it for awhile, before responding, “I have no strings to pull. He’s not getting me.”
“Maybe you deserve it, if it’s property or money…”
“Maybe it’s divisive…something left to haunt me…”
“It’s for you to decide.”
“Might I have more tea? Do you have the time to spend…?”
“Of course. It would be a pleasure.”
He gestured for the waitress and ordered two chamomiles. As the waitress was walking away, Nancy stopped her, “Excuse me, but, in your office, is there a shredder?”
“I think so,” she answered. “Why?”
“Do you think I might use it?”
“Well, I’d have to ask the Manager first.”
“Would you, please.”
A few minutes later she was back, “Manager says, ‘Help yourself.’”
“Shall we?”
The waitress led them to a closet of an office, so small the three of them could barely fit.
“It’s there,” the waitress pointed out, but it was hard to miss in the cramped quarters.
“It’s there,” the waitress pointed out, but it was hard to miss in the cramped quarters.
“I’ll leave you to it. Want a refill on the tea while I’m at it?”
“That would be great,” he responded.
Then they were alone, just them and the folder. She waited, maybe five beats, before inserting it and watching, as it got sucked down into the teeth, only to come out the other side in shreds.
“How’s it feel?” she said to the now-quiet machine,
"I think I could do with something stronger than tea.”
"Are you sure?"
"Never more so."
"I think I could do with something stronger than tea.”
"Are you sure?"
"Never more so."
“I shall see to it."
And that, was that.
V
