The Planck Factor

I should’ve walked away then, but I froze in place, staring at them. The older man’s spotlight gaze swept around, until it locked with mine. His expression never changed, but the spark of recognition in his eyes told me I’d been made. He tapped the younger man’s arm, nodded and moved into the crowd.

I pushed my way out of the group, drawing several annoyed glances and one exasperated, “Ouch! Watch it!”

“Sorry,” I called over my shoulder. Whatever I’d done, I had no time for extensive apologies. All I could think of was to find a place to hide. Quickly.

“Jess!”

I didn’t have to look to recognize the voice. Cynthia again. What were the odds I’d see her twice in one day? Not that long, actually, given Boulder’s small size. I pretended not to hear and kept going.

“Jess! Hold on!”

I felt a hand on my shoulder and jumped, not sure who I’d see. Cyn stood there, wearing that scarf of hers and looking annoyed.

“I was just a few feet from you. Didn’t you hear me?”

This opened the door to a host of potential sarcastic replies. But I said, “I’m sorry. I’m a bit preoccupied.”

Cyn eyed me for a moment, then chuckled. “It’s that novel, right? Were you gripped with inspiration? Communicating with your muse?”

I wanted to tell her that the only thing inspiring me at the moment was fear and that my muse, if I had one, never deigned to call on me. “Just thinking.” I grabbed her arm. “Would you like to have something to eat? My treat.”

Cyn’s mouth dropped open. “Sure!”

Scanning the crowd for any sign of the Dynamic Duo—and finding little comfort in not seeing them—I steered us toward the nearest restaurant, a trendy pizza place on the corner. Cyn was babbling something and I tried to smile and nod at the right points. I glanced over my shoulder once more before ducking into the restaurant. Caught a glimpse of Red and his friend, Flattop, heading in our direction.

The restaurant was in the usual lull between lunch and dinner, so the place was nearly empty. We were seated right away at a table against the wall. Needless to say, I sat with my back toward it.

“I don’t normally eat pizza,” Cyn said. “So many carbs.”

“Uh huh.”

She pointed at me and wrinkled her nose. “But, in your case, I’ll make an exception.”

“Good.”

As I flipped through the menu, the two men wandered in. Given the few others present, it didn’t take them long to make me. I ducked behind the menu. What did these guys want?

Cyn kept chattering, but nothing registered. Eventually, she gave me a pointed look.

“You are distracted, aren’t you?”

“Just a little.”

She closed her menu and placed it before her. “Jess, you know what your problem is?”

It was a rhetorical question.

“You’re so wrapped up in yourself. People in your life are like props, placed there to serve you.”

The two men took a table.

“I’m sorry if I seem that way. I’m going through a difficult time.”

She dismissed me with the wave of a hand. “It’s always something, Jess.” She paused. “God knows, Fred feels that way, too.”

The mere mention of Fred’s name made my pulse race. I wanted to reach across the table and grab her by her stupid scarf. “What do you know about how Fred feels?” I still spoke of him in the present tense.

Cyn bestowed a pitying gaze. “He’s never told you this, and it’s really not my place to say anything.”