Chapter 16: Stage Four

"You're my new vendor clerk," I said.

"It's my first day," said the woman who had worn ivory lace. "I'm so glad I know someone."

I put my coffee down on her desk very gently.

"Which clinic is treating you for stage four?" I said.

She blinked at me.

"Which what?"

"Stage four. You told Desmond at his altar that you had it, and I decided you meant a different hospital."

"Oh," she said. "Oh, no."

She pulled her chair in and lowered her voice.

"Stage four of my landlord's process," she said. "Notice to vacate. It's on the sheet, there are four stages, and they gave me thirty days."

"You told a man you had stage four of an eviction."

"I told him I had stage four. Then I started crying, because the next thing was the street."

"He said, 'Oh, no,' and took my hand," she said. "He never asked of what."

"And at noon on Saturday you stood under an arch in lace."

"He proposed on Wednesday. Nobody has ever proposed to me." She looked at her stapler. "I was going to tell him after the cake."

"I took the cake," I said.

"I know. I was so upset about it."

I was angry in the particular way of a buyer who has been shorted a delivery.

I was not angry with her, though, and I was surprised to find it.

"Come to the cafeteria at noon," I said. "Sit by the window."

"Why?"

"Because I have a spare for this."

The hospital cafeteria seats two hundred.

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