Page 8 of Becoming Johanna

I would have grabbed more, but some juvenile delinquent—who should have been in school, I might add—beat me to the other bills.

  Johanna sighed but didn’t speak.

  “I’m running down to the sandwich shop in the strip mall. What do you want?” Derrick asked.

  “I’ll take a BLT and a diet soda,” Amaranda answered.

  “Nothing for me,” Johanna mumbled, closing her eyes.

  “Wrong answer. It’s my get-well gift to you—a sandwich and a soda. What will it be?”

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  “Okay. Then I’ll decide for you.” Derrick walked out the door with his keys in his hand.

  “Does it hurt?”

  Johanna opened her eyes. “Only when I breathe.”

  “Did they give you any painkillers?”

  “I guess that’s what they are. Look in my coat pocket.” Her coat lay in a heap on the floor where she had shrugged out of it.

  Amaranda picked it up and removed a pill bottle from the pocket. “This is pretty heavy duty stuff.”

  “I’m sure I wouldn’t know.”

  “You’d better wait till Derrick gets back and eat first. Then take one of these and we’ll leave you so you can get a good night’s sleep.”

  “I hope it works. I need to get up early, because I think it’s probably going to take me twice as long to walk to work.”

  “Walk to work! Are you crazy? You need to rest a couple of days. And even then, you can’t walk there. It’s too much, too soon.”

  “I have to go. I don’t get sick days, and if I don’t work, I don’t get paid. Not to mention, I could lose my job.” An image of Lucinda’s angry face popped into her mind.

  “It doesn’t sound like much of a loss, if you ask me.”

  Johanna clammed up. She knew Amaranda would counter everything she said. It would be better not to argue and just to let her friend think she had won this round. The next thing she knew, Derrick woke her up to eat.

  “I wasn’t sure what you’d like,” he said, “so I got you a turkey and cheese hero, and a BLT like I got Amaranda, and a chicken salad sandwich in case you didn’t want either of the other two.”

  Amaranda dragged over the folding table and chair. She unwrapped her sandwich and took a bite. “Love … B … L … Ts,” she said between chews.

  “Which sandwich do you want?” Derrick asked Johanna.

  “Take whichever one you want.”

  “I’ve got rare roast beef on rye with Russian dressing.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “I’ll take the chicken salad, I guess.”

  He unwrapped it for her and opened a can of soda. Then he sat down and dug into his own food.

  Amaranda stopped eating and held up her hand. “I’ll bet this is your first dinner party.”

  Johanna gave her a crooked smile. “It’s more like Derrick’s dinner party.”

  “He’s just the caterer. It’s your home, so it’s your dinner party.”

  Derrick pulled out his cell phone and took a picture. “ For the society pages … ”

  Johanna took a pain killer for dessert, while Derrick put the extra sandwiches and soda in her fridge.

  “It’s there when you get hungry.” He kissed her forehead.

  Amaranda gave her a hug. “We’ll come by after work tomorrow. And don’t get any ideas about walking there in the morning. You’ve got to stay home with your leg elevated so the swelling goes down. If you do that, it won’t hurt as much, and you won’t need painkillers, and then you’ll be able to return to work. But. Not. Tomorrow.”

  “My boss. I have no phone.”

  “I’ll pop in and tell him,” Amaranda said as she pulled the door closed.

  The next morning, Johanna slept through the alarm. She dragged herself into the kitchen, and made a pot of coffee. She was going to make a peanut butter sandwich until she saw the sandwiches Derrick had left behind. She ate half the turkey hero instead, and it felt good to have a full stomach.

  Her leg began to throb and she took another painkiller. She sat on the futon with her leg on the folding chair and alternated between reading and dozing off all day. At five o’clock, she pulled herself together so she’d look presentable when Derrick and Amaranda arrived.

  A short time later, the three of them shared a pizza while Amaranda recounted her conversation with Johanna’s boss about her broken leg. “He’s such a jerk. He went on and on about how you’re not entitled to sick days and said he’d almost asked management to fire you when you ‘failed to’ return to work yesterday afternoon. He seemed to know all about the accident, just not that you were the victim.”

  “Really, Johanna,” Derrick said between chews, “you should look for a job somewhere else, where they treat their employees with respect.”

  Amaranda laughed. “Does such a place even exist?”

  “Don’t worry about it. I’m feeling much better,” Johanna lied. “I guess I’ll face his wrath tomorrow.”

  Amaranda shook her head. “Absolutely not. I know you don’t get paid for staying home and all, but you really need to take one more day.”

  “I’m bored,” Johanna replied. “I might as well be bored at work. I can sit with my leg up there just as well as I can do it here. I owe both of you money and my landlady just raised my rent.”

  “Okay,” Derrick broke in, “but don’t walk. I’ll pick you up in the morning.”

  “Thanks. I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you.”

  “Oh, I can think of a few ways.”

  Johanna felt her stomach lurch. She liked Derrick as a friend. Nothing more.

  Amaranda sighed deeply.

  Johanna fidgeted. “You’re upset that I’m returning to work?”

  “Christmas is next week. I’m upset because I’d hoped you would pay me back before then. Now I see it’s impossible.”

  “I’m sorry. I had Derrick’s money in my hand when the car struck me, and I was going to run to the store after work and return the dress and shoes I bought, so I could pay you back.”

  “You bought a dress? Without me? Where is it?”

  “Hanging in the bag on the bathroom door.”

  Amaranda slipped away, leaving Johanna alone with Derrick.

  “Don’t worry about paying me back,” he said. “Consider it a combination house warming and get well gift.”

  “I do worry, and I will pay you back. We’re friends, Derrick. And friends don’t take advantage of friends.” She hoped he got the message.

  Amaranda walked in and modeled the dress. “How do I look? You don’t have a full length mirror, so I can’t tell.”

  “Nice!” Derrick said appreciatively.

  Johanna’s eyes opened wide. “It looks spectacular on you.”

  “The holiday party where I work is this Friday. Would you consider lending it to me?”

  How can I say no? “Sure.”

  “The shoes are a little tight,” Amaranda continued, “but they go so well with the dress, I don’t mind suffering a little.”

  Johanna shrugged. Amaranda was bigger than Johanna and had more curves, so she undoubtedly weighed more. By the time she returned the dress and shoes, they would no longer be pristine and would probably be stretched out. Then a little light bulb went off in Johanna’s head.

  “That dress and those shoes add up to almost what I owe you. I also bought a small purse that will actually make the outfit worth more than that. Would you be willing to take the entire ensemble as payment for my debt?”

  “Where’s the purse?”

  “Open the top drawer of the chest. It should still be in the bag.”

  Amaranda ripped open the bag like a kid at Christmas. “Ohhh. This is perfect.” She turned to Derrick. “You’re sure it looks all right?”

  “You look like a million bucks,” he said.

  Amaranda gave Johanna a dazzling smile. “It’s a deal!”

  The next morning, Derrick knocked on Johanna’s door right on time. He helped her navigate the two steps
down to the sidewalk and held her crutches while she got into the car. They made small talk until they got to LOI Book Services. “Will you be able to get inside by yourself? I thought it would be better to drop you off here before I park the car.”

  “I’m fine, Derrick. Thanks.”

  “I’ll pick you up here at five-oh-five, unless you want me to bring you lunch?”

  “You already did.”

  “Huh?”

  She took a half turkey hero out of her bag. “I’m still stocked with food you brought over the other night. I’ll see you at five. Five-oh-five.” She shuffled to the front door and someone held it open for her as she disappeared inside.

  Johanna found her desk PILED with work—not only her regular work, but also the pile of invoices Lucinda had foisted upon her a few days before. She sat, turned her empty trashcan upside down, and hoisted her broken leg on top to keep it elevated. It throbbed because she refused to take a painkiller before going to work. She started entering invoices and didn’t look up until she heard people leaving for lunch. That’s when she realized everyone, except her, had gone out. Not one person asked if they could bring anything back for her. They didn’t know she brought lunch from home. The least they could have done was ask.

  The clock struck one, but the room remained empty. Johanna didn’t let her curiosity stop her from working. By the time the other employees trickled back in, she had finished her paperwork and started returning the phone calls that had come in over the past day and a half. Her co-workers seemed to be in a good mood, even if the clients who had been waiting for their return calls did not.

  “Where did everyone go?” she asked Lucinda.

  “Office holiday party.”

  “Oh,” Johanna gasped. “I forgot all about it.”

  “You weren’t
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