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I held in my sobbing long enough to reply, “Yeah?”“Are you okay?”“I’m fine, go away.”“Can, can I get you something?”“No, I’m in the bathroom.”“Sorry, it’s just ... Mr. Wainwright sent me to look for you. Do you want me to tell him you’re sick?”“Yeah. Tell him I’m sick,” I muttered the rest to myself, “tell him I’m dead.”“Uhm, okay. You stay right here okay?”Shit. Well that was the last thing I could do. I forced myself up and over to the mirror. Damage control time. I didn’t even have makeup to hide my puffy eyes. I washed with cold water and breathed to calm down the best I could. I hurried out to get to the trailer. It was still between classes and still a quiet time, but to me it felt more like a jailbreak than isolation.Mr. Wainwright had a look of concern when I got back. In fact everybody was staring at me. God Mellissa, you bitch. She probably came back yell, “Bailey’s crying” at the top of her lungs. “Eight oh two fourteen, cancel that,” he said into his walkie talkie.I sat. "Your cell phone wasn't on," he said."The battery's dying," she answered. "What did I miss?" Only a split second after she asked, she caught her breath, the distress she felt surely reflected in her expression.Her Gunny nodded. "About an hour ago, Barbara called me at work. We'll need to go see Deb," he said, characteristically concerned about others, and Lenore loved him for it, even as her grief began to rise, threatening to overwhelm her. "Just put your shoes on, Lenore, it'll be appropriate that you're in your SDBs." Oh, Deb..." Lenore trailed off.The Gunny shot her a sympathetic look, and nodded.Deb returned from the coroner's office. Barbara brought Lenore and Deb tea, while Harry and the Gunny wordlessly drank Bourbon, at six-thirty in the evening. Barbara had ordered a pizza, now cooling, as no one was rushing to eat a second slice."You're the beneficiary of everything he had, Lenore," Deb told her, seriously. "I'm the executrix, and he left provision for me to be paid, but.
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