The corners of Sally’s lips quirked upward as she wrote. It had been a very productive day, already. So far she had not only relayed a few calls, dodged some near-disasters, and cleaned up her emails, but had also successfully booby trapped the bathroom so that it would pour a small bucket of water on whoever went in first. Feeling accomplished, Sally stuffed what she’d been writing in an envelope and stamped it with Colin Adams’ home address (no handwriting samples, no fingerprints - she had to think like a criminal, now). Lacing her fingers together, Sally pushed her hands outwards to crack her knuckles in a gesture of success and got up from her desk to go mail the latest cat postcard during her lunch break. She was cut short when Ward strolled in.
“Here comes trouble,” she greeted, wryly, placing the card back on the desk. It seemed she’d have to send it another time. Her grin drooped slightly when he mentioned the lunch and she rubbed between her eyebrows. Sally would deny it, of course, any chance she might get, but she was nervous about the whole affair. Lying to a dying woman seemed pretty low, little less her own mother. But it was for her mother’s own good, right? Besides, she’d been lying for quite awhile now about her imaginary boyfriend...it simply seemed more likely that she’d get found out now.
When John had brought their mom in to see Sally’s work, she’d been startled and even more so when her mom, seeing Ward, had asked if this was her boyfriend. She’d been even more surprised when the first thing out of Sally’s mouth was, ‘yes.’ Ward had displayed a tremendous amount of grace in going along with it, but one short chance encounter was completely different from this complete luncheon meeting. As Ward asked if she’d put much thought into the lunch, Sally winced and answered ruefully: “Oh, believe me, I’ve thought about it.” Dropping her hands, she came around to lean on her desk beside him. His point still stood and, despite everything, she found herself laughing about it. “This is going to be such a disaster, isn’t it?”
Rolling her neck to look at him, Sally narrowed her eyes before straightening. “Oh, I made you some flashcards,” she said, suddenly. On second thought, that notion had probably been ill-conceived, seeing as Ward didn’t strike her as a studier, but she went back around the desk to dig them out of the drawers, anyway. For good measure, she decided to tell him what was on the cards.
“So, we met through Nick, which should be easy to remember,” she added, drolly. “Our first date was two months ago, I think,” she added, shuffling through the cards. “Yeah, here’s the date,” she said, presenting him with the card in question. “We went to Valerie’s. Ummm, so basically any time I didn’t want to go to something lame, we had a date,” she continued, grinning. “You haven’t been able to meet mom before now, though, due to your busy schedule of philanthropic work.”
As he said, ‘all of this,’ Sally smirked. He wasn’t wrong, really. If they were dating she would most definitely be hitting that, but one thing Ward didn’t need was anyone fanning his ego so, instead, she said, “Please,” and moved on. Sally gaped at Ward in horror. “Hey! You can never have too many cats!” That was definitely hyperbole, but Sally was indeed a cat lover. At her apartment there lived two cats and two humans and that struck Sally as exactly enough. Sally often told Birdie that they worked to support their cats’ lifestyles, but it was honestly worth every penny.
Chuckling when he asked about his wealth, Sally shrugged. “Oh, trust me. She already knows. When she asked how I’d met you, I said through Nick because...if we’re being honest that’s the only way I meet people and so mom instantly said, ‘Oh, honey, is he rich?’” She laughed. “I made you rich. But I don’t actually know anything about all that,” she added. “So I panicked and made you a snail farmer? Yeah...I’m sorry and good luck, honestly. I have no idea what a snail tycoon would do, but on the bright side, I guarantee you neither does mom. I just remember phrases like, ‘There’s a lot of money in snails.’” She shook her head, ruefully.
Coming to stand in front of him, again, Sally handed him the cards she still doubted he’d ever read and frowned. “Oh boy. Well, we’ve only been dating two months since, you know, I made you up two months ago, so...you haven’t said anything yet, but I’m sure mom will starting hinting about that soon,” she added, unable to stop herself from rolling her eyes. “I’ll keep you posted on that front, but I’m really glad to hear you’re committed to this relationship,” she added, wryly.
Laughing, Sally sat down beside him, “Ummm, yeah, I think we need a relationship name, honestly,” she responded. The thought amused her, and she’d been joking, but she realized it would also - strangely enough - probably be practical, as her mother would definitely be searching social media to scope things out. “Honey, I am a celebrity in the high-tech security executive assistant world,” she teased. “I think it’s clear we have to have one.” She smirked when he gave her the options. “Oh my God, why do our names sound like a bad sitcom when mashed together? Ok, I’m more of feeling Easters. I think it sets the right tone of religious awe that we clearly inspire,” she added, sardonically.
“Wow, we are never naming any children - even imaginary children - Wally Easters. I’m just putting that out there right now. In fact, if that’s what we come up with, we should probably never name any children. Ever.” Rolling her eyes, Sally reached behind her to pick up the postcard and waved it with a bemused air. “Please. I was about to send a cat postcard to a friend,” she said, lightly, her tone jocular. “Would a boring person do that?”
