Excerpt

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but hasn’t the fine line between sanity and madness gotten finer?”

George Price

1

Olivia squinted through the foggy windshield as she tried to make out the worn median. Just what I need. Another pea-soup day. Olivia gagged, as the memory of her mother’s thick, lumpy, homemade pea soup came to mind. I am definitely swimming upstream in a sea of pea soup. The exit for Smithville slid by and disappeared into the darkness. Hmm. That’s where that therapist lives. She doubted she would ever make the call. I don’t need a therapist. I was perfect until Susan came along. It’s Susan who needs a therapist. Olivia’s grip tightened on the wheel, her fingers turning white.

As she circled her head to loosen up her stiff neck, she nearly missed the Johnstown exit. She swung the wheel sharply, sliding sideways onto the ramp and barely missing the small guardrail. As her car spun, Olivia’s gaze was drawn down the fifty-foot embankment. She could barely make out the craggy outcroppings of the hillside before it disappeared into blackness. Another of those tiny thoughts slipped through her mind. What if I just keep going over the side?

Soon she began to make out the muted outline of the old brick building that had recently been converted to the national headquarters of her current employer, Image Tech. She passed the front lot where the employees parked and drove around to the back. Few lights reflected activity, and all Olivia could see were the dark shadows of overflowing dumpsters. But she knew the door was there.

Olivia parked her white Toyota Corolla, then sat back staring at the old building. She pulled down the visor to check her makeup, tucking a lock of dark, shiny hair behind her ear as she examined her smooth olive complexion, noting the dark circles under her eyes that her makeup didn’t quite hide.

Time to get in there. Her mouth suddenly felt dry and her stomach queasy. I can do this. I survived the pea soup and I can survive Susan. I will just ignore her and go on with my life.

She grabbed her purse, looking for her pack of sugarless peppermint gum. “Oh no,” she snapped, as she noticed grey and white cat hairs on her new dark forest-green suit. She grabbed her sticky roller from the glove compartment, cleaned off the hairs, and glanced around for any additional hairs or anything on the seat she might need to pick up. Seeing none, she ran the roller over the seat anyway, and then put it back in its designated spot.

Olivia would have never gotten a cat, because they were too messy and the litter box needed to be changed every day if you didn’t want that awful cat smell all over the house. But her last boy friend had gotten the cute little grey and white tabby for her birthday, and she didn’t have the heart to tell him she didn’t like cats. She figured she would get rid of the dumb thing if they broke up.

Then the unexpected happened. Olivia became hopelessly attached to the stupid cat, and she couldn’t part with him even after she and Jeff broke up. She bought a new heavy duty vacuum with all the attachments, and put sticky rollers in every room, as well as in the car.

Olivia stuffed a stick of gum into her mouth, putting the wrapper neatly in the special waste container on the floor. She pushed the car door open with her foot, quickly wiping away the small smudge on her shoe, and hurried into the mist. As she reached for the knob on the old door, Olivia glanced up at the heavy iron bars on the windows. She felt a tiny prickling at the back of her neck as she stepped inside.

The back door let Olivia slip invisibly into her office and avoid walking past Susan. Once in her office, Olivia usually felt better, more organized and in control. She had gotten into the habit of taking a few extra minutes at the end of each day to straighten her desk, putting every knickknack in order and wiping the bookshelves with lemon Pledge, giving the room a clean, inviting aroma. Professional books and journals were lined up neatly on the worn oak shelves. The order soothed her nerves and helped get her day off to a good start.

A thread of light spread from underneath the closed door that led to the main offices. “Darn,” Olivia said in a whisper. Her early morning coffee fought the acid drip in her empty stomach. She pictured Susan sitting at Olivia’s old desk, which she had commandeered, waiting for an opportunity to walk the floor, mercilessly criticizing and demeaning her chosen victims.

It may not be Susan, she told herself as she took a deep breath and closed her eyes, grasping the door handle.

Without warning, the door flew back, tearing the knob from her hand. Olivia yelped and jumped backward, knocking into the door frame and nearly peeing in her pantyhose. There stood Susan, her full five-foot-ten-inch frame towering over Olivia, her pinched piranha mouth ready to rip a jugular.

Olivia stood paralyzed as Susan’s scathing eyes appraised her from head to toe. “Sneaking in the back door again?” she hissed. “Where did you learn to be a sneak, high school?”

Olivia knew she should say something, but she couldn’t get her mouth to work. Everything that came to mind was totally unprofessional. Her big brown eyes just gazed helplessly at Susan like a doe in the headlights.

“Old habits die hard, I guess.” Susan’s darkly smooth voice continued. “It’s a wonder you ever made it through school at all.” Then, as if to make sure everyone in the entire office could hear, she said loudly, “You never can trust a sneak. You are probably stealing money from the company too, for all I know.”

Olivia searched madly for an intelligent response. Heat began to creep up her neck. She said nothing.

Susan turned abruptly and walked toward her office, leaving Olivia immobile, a mere bug to be squashed and ground into the floor.