I looked down at the rag and cleaner in my hands, as Kristy pushed out the door.
"Um," I said. Through the still open door, I could see Monica down on the floor, slowly picking up pieces of broken glass as the hostess of the party stood by, watching. "I'm not—"
"Good," Delia said, pushing me through the door. "Go to it!" She'd given me such a nudge I actually stumbled over the threshold: luckily, I was able to catch myself right before doing a face plant into a nearby end table. I caught my breath, then crossed the room over to Monica, who'd made what looked like very little headway in the cleaning up effort.
"Hey," I said, starting to kneel down beside her. "You okay?"
"Mmm-hmmm," she said. But then she stood up, wiping her hands on her apron and starting across the floor to the kitchen, leaving me and the tray behind her. So much for teamwork, I thought, as I dropped the cloth and cleaner beside me and began to pick up the broken glass as fast as I could. I'd just gotten what I hoped was all of it and begun spraying the carpet when I heard a voice.
"Macy? Is that you?"
For a second, I just kept spraying, as if doing so long enough might remove not only the stain, but me and this entire situation as well. After I gave the carpet a good dousing, though, it was clear I had no choice but to look up.
"Hi," I said to Mrs. Talbot, who was standing over me holding a napkin piled with shrimp. "How are you?"
"We're well," she said, glancing a bit hesitantly over at Mr. Talbot, who was helping himself to shrimp from Kristy's tray as she tried, unsuccessfully, to move on. "Are you… working here?"
Even though I knew this was a valid question, the fact that I was wearing a Wish Catering apron, holding a rag, and on my knees on the carpet fighting a stain made me wonder if Mrs. Talbot was really all that smart after all. "Yes," I said, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear. "I, um, just started."
"But you're still at the information desk," she said, suddenly serious, and I could see Jason in her features, this automatic concern that all be As It Should. "Aren't you?"
I nodded. "I'm just doing this occasionally," I said. "For extra money."
"Oh." She glanced over again at Mr. Talbot, who was standing in place chewing, his napkin piled with what, to my eye, looked like a lot more than two shrimp. "Well. That's wonderful."
I ducked my head back down, and after a second a woman came up to her, asking about some research trip, and thankfully, they moved on. I'd been dousing, then patting, then dousing for a good five minutes when a pair of motorcycle boots appeared right at my eye level, foot tapping.
"You know," Kristy said, her voice low, "it doesn't look so good for you to be on the floor like this."
"There's a stain," I said. "And Monica just abandoned me to deal with it."
She squatted down across from me, moving her knees to one side in a surprisingly ladylike way. "It's very hard for her." she said to me, her voice serious. "She's self-conscious about her clumsiness, so a lot of the times rather than acknowledge it she just shuts down. It's a defense mechanism. You know, she's very emotional, Monica. She really is."
As she said this, Monica pushed through the door from the kitchen, carrying a trayful of goat cheese toasts. She started across the room, her face flat and expressionless, walking right past us without even a glance.
"See?" Kristy said. "She's upset."
"Macy," a man's voice boomed from over our heads. "Hello down there!"
Kristy and I both looked up at the same time. It was Mr. Talbot, of course, and he was smiling widely, although I assumed it had more to do with Kristy's shrimp tray than us reuniting. As she and I both stood, he proved me right by immediately reaching for one and popping it into his mouth.
"Hi, Mr. Talbot," I said, as Kristy looked on, annoyed. "It's good to see you."
"And you," he replied. "Martha tells me you've taken on this job in addition to your library work. That's very ambitious of you. I know Jason finds the information desk to be a full-time commitment."
"Oh, well," I said, bending down to retrieve my cleaner and rag, as the stain looked, miraculously, like it was actually fading, "I'm sure for him, it is."
Mr. Talbot, reaching for another shrimp, raised his eyebrows.
"I mean," I said, quickly, as Kristy switched her tray to the other hand, "that Jason just gives such a big commitment to everything. He's very, you know, focused."
"Ah, yes, he really is," he said, nodding. Then he lowered his voice, adding, "I'm so glad that you understand that, considering the decision he had to make recently about your relationship." He dabbed his lips with a napkin. "I mean, he is fond of you. But Jason just has so much on his plate. He has to be very careful not to get distracted from his goals."
I just stood there, wondering how, exactly, he expected me to react to this. I was a distraction from his goals? I felt my face flush.