Chapter 2

I got off work at four thirty on Tuesday and went straight to my polling place. There weren't any big lines like the media had been leading us to expect. I was in and out in about ten minutes. The bet I'd made with Evelyn had been constantly on my mind all day. I'd even gotten up early so I could spend some time on the internet, checking to see if any of the latest polls showed McCain pulling even with Obama. No joy there. If anything, it looked like Obama was widening the gap.

Having had a chance to think about the possible consequences of my statements the day before, I realized that the best outcome for me would be for Obama to win, me to pay off the bet, then for me to chalk up the whole dangerous episode I'd fallen into as a learning experience. I was too old to allow myself to get into such potentially harmful situations. I'd let my dislike for having my opinions challenged, especially in such a confrontational way, overcome my better sense and judgment. I could very easily have lost my job over something I should have been mature enough to avoid.

By seven o'clock, as I sat glued to my seat in front of the television, watching the Fox News Channel, there was no doubt about the election's outcome. McCain had failed to win in Pennsylvania, Ohio, Virginia or Florida. When the west coast polls closed, in another half hour, Obama would be the president elect.

I was a bit sad that the election had turned out like it had, but not really that surprised by it. After the big economic meltdown in the financial services sector, a lot of people were upset and afraid. It wasn't surprising that they'd vote for change.

I stayed tune and watched Obama's acceptance speech. When it was finished, I had to admit that it had been some very impressive oratory. I hoped his words had been sincere, but I wasn't willing to give up my doubts about him. In less than three months we'd all see if he'd meant what he'd just said.

I took quite a bit of kidding in the break room at work. Half the people seemed surprised that I was still employed by the company. The rest, mostly my friends, asked me how I'd managed to wiggle out from under the threat of being fired.

"Evelyn decided to give me a second chance. Only after I apologized for what I'd said though. It was a stupid thing for me to say to her. If I'd been in her position, well, I'm not sure I'd have been as generous."

I made no mention of what she'd said about accepting the bet. I waited around the break room only long enough to not seem like I was avoiding anything.

I didn't see Evelyn until about three thirty that afternoon. When I did see her, it was only for a few seconds. She stopped off at my cubicle and placed a small, folded piece of paper on the corner of my desk. After she left, not having said anything to me, I opened the note. It had her address and a phone number. Underneath, written in a neat cursive script were three words: "Seven Thursday night."

I was a little worried that she hadn't spoken to me. Not even a smile from her when she put the note down on my desk. I didn't think that portended well for me. My mind went back to the way her face had looked in the break room right after I'd said what I had. I began to seriously worry after I played that back in my head. Evelyn had always had a strong temper. I remembered several occasions when she'd put it on display in the past.

I felt like there was something very foreboding and sinister in the manner she'd delivered the note. Even the terse wording on it seemed to suggest her continuing anger. If things were okay between us after the incident, wouldn't she have at least spoken to me? Asked me if seven o'clock was convenient?

A bet was a bet though, and I'd be at her apartment at her appointed time. The last hour of work went slowly. To be honest, all I did was worry. I didn't accomplish anything productive after Evelyn's brief visit.

Things had settled back to normal by Thursday, although everyone was still talking about the election. There was a lot of speculating about what might happen now that the Democrats had won the White House, and had increased their control both in the House and in the Senate. No one mentioned my run in with Evelyn. For that, I was extremely grateful. I wanted to put the incident behind me.

Evelyn stopped by my little cubicle on her way out of the building at around four fifteen that afternoon.

"Are we on for tonight?" She wasn't smiling when she said it, but her voice had a normal tone to it. She didn't seem upset or anything.

"I'll be there. I already bought my cleaning supplies."

"Are you upset that McCain lost so badly?" It seemed like a real question to me, not some attempt to get my goat or anything like that. An honest question, a curious one.

"I'm disappointed. Not really upset, but I'm still worried about what Obama's going to do. I don't really trust him to be the President."

"Over sixty million of us voted for him. It seems to me he has more than enough trust and support from the majority to get the job done."

"We'll see. I accept that he won the election. After he's sworn in, I'll watch and see what he does."

"He wouldn't have to do much to be better than what we have now."

"Given enough time for historian's to get a real perspective, Bush's two terms will fare better than the way he's perceived today. He happened to be in office at a time when he inherited a lot of older problems from previous presidents. He shouldn't be blamed for the mortgage mess, or for what happened on September eleventh. I don't think he handled the wars in Iraq or Afghanistan as well as he might have. I'm not sure anyone else would have done better. Bush was unlucky mostly."

"We're lucky to have survived two terms of him being president. Things will be a lot better with Obama in charge."

"I'm sure they will be. My only question is: better for who? Like I said, I'll wait and see."

After Evelyn left, Rick, my friend who works in the cubicle right next to mine, got up from where he'd been sitting, and, obviously, listening, and started talking to me over the five foot high partition that separated our two cubicles.

"Denny, what was that all about? You said you'd bring cleaning supplies. Did the two of you actually make that bet she challenged you to?"

"Drop it, Rick. You shouldn't be listening in on people's private conversations."

"Like I had a choice. These cheap little partitions don't exactly deaden noise you know? You can tell me, man. Did she make the bet for what you said? Is that why she didn't can your butt?"

"I said to drop it. The only thing that would probably come of you asking me questions would be getting me fired. I apologized to her for what I'd said. That was the end of it. There was no bet."

"Hey, I know what I heard, Denny. She asked if the two of you were on for tonight, and you told her you'd bring the cleaning supplies. If there wasn't any bet, then why are you bringing the cleaning supplies?" Rick had deliberately raised his voice as he was saying this. He was trying to put pressure on me so I'd tell him what he wanted to know.

"Shut up, Rick, and I mean it. I already told you all I'm going to. You're acting very immature." It was very close to four thirty, quitting time, so I got up from my chair and left my cubicle. Rick had to get up from his and go around the other cubicles on his side in order to get to the elevators. I managed to get in the waiting elevator just before the door closed and we started down to the parking garage beneath our building. Rick didn't make it fast enough to ride down with me. I was walking up to my car when my cell rang. Of course, it was Rick. I didn't answer the phone. I'd already told him I didn't want to talk about any of that. Rick needed to just let it go before he ended up getting my ass in a worse sling that the one I'd already put it in.

Before I managed to drive home, Rick had called me twice more and had texted me a "WTF?" message another two times. He was my best buddy from work, but he didn't know when to back off and keep his mouth shut about things. Maybe that was why he and I got along so well, we were alike in many ways. I called him when I had my front door opened.

"Why are you being such a dick, Rick? Can't you listen to what I've asked and just do what I've told you I want?"

"Tell me about the bet. You made one with her, right?"

"You've got to keep this to yourself, man. We made a bet. I lost. I'm going to do her windows, and then it's all over. Nothing else. It wasn't like you're fantasizing either. If I won, she was going to do my windows."

"My bull shit detector just got pegged to the max, Denny. I know you're lying. It was a blow job if you won, right?"

One thing about my man, Rick. Once he got fixated on an idea, he was tenacious. He wasn't going to change his mind now, no matter what I said to him.

"What does it matter? Blow job or windows, I didn't win the bet, so nothing like that is going to happen. You keep fucking around and talking about things, sure as hell I'm going to end up being fired. If not by Evelyn, then by one of the other bosses who'll find out about what was said in the break room. If the whole thing dies down, maybe I'll manage to squeak through this one time. You keep jabbering, and my chances get to be less and less."

"If you're really worried, maybe you should just tell me the real truth and that would be the end of it."

What he said was so logical. The problem with it was that Rick didn't have much control over what came out of his mouth. Sure as hell, he'd blurt something out to someone. He wouldn't mean to do it, but he would.

"Rick, I'm asking you, as a friend, to stop talking about this. I know you like giving me the business, but by talking about it, you really are increasing my chances of being fired. The bet was for window cleaning, that's it."

"I know you're lying, dude. It hurts my feelings that you don't trust me with the straight poop."

"If I get fired because of your big mouth, you moron, I'm going to look you up and kick your ass. Fantasize however you please, but keep your mouth shut. I've already told you what the bet was. If you don't believe me, then fuck you!"

"You don't have to get all pissy about it, Denny. You should have just told me right from the beginning. Why were you being so coy about it?"

I told him I needed to get off the phone and change into some 'grunge' clothes for my trip over to Evelyn's, to clean her windows. After we hung up, I just hoped that Rick would stop talking about the bet.

It took me about twenty minutes to drive over to Evelyn's apartment from my place. She lived in a different part of town than she had back when we were still seeing each other. Back then, she'd been making a lot less money. So had I. I was doing much better financially now, but I knew Evelyn must make considerably more than I did. I was still doing the same job I'd been originally hired to do, while Evelyn had been fast tracked and promoted several times that I was aware of. I hadn't kept in close touch with her career, but I'd read announcements of her upward movement from time to time in the company newsletters.

Her apartment was in one of the taller and larger new buildings that had gone up a few years before, during the last great housing boom. It even had a door person when you walked into the lobby of the building. I had to give my name and Evelyn's, then wait while they called her to see if I was expected.

Standing there, with a plastic shopping bag in each hand while I waited for permission to go up to her apartment, I couldn't help being a little self conscious and embarrassed. The paper towels I'd bought were clearly visible due to their size. The Windex bottles were visible as well, because the plastic bag was fairly clear, and so thin you could see whatever was contained inside. Finally though, the door person must have gotten approval for sending me up since she hung up the phone and pointed me towards an open waiting elevator.

"Sixth floor. Get off the elevator and turn right. Her apartment is the third one down on the left, number 6551. She's expecting you."

When I got off on the sixth floor and turned right, I could see Evelyn standing in her open doorway, a little smile on her face, and a glass of what looked like red wine in her hand. I'd wondered if the wine was for me as I walked towards her. She lifted her glass and took a small sip from it as I approached, standing aside enough so I'd have room to enter her apartment.

The first thing I noticed as I walked into her apartment was the wall to wall windows. There had to be more than thirty feet of windows running all the way along the back wall. It was six separate panels, each at least five feet wide and about ten feet tall. I'd never seen such big windows in an apartment before. I stopped walking forward as soon as my mind processed the amount of window surface I was expected to clean.

"Upstairs that wall is the same, except there are two fewer panels. It's lucky for you that I only have windows on that one wall."

I didn't want to give her the satisfaction of appearing to be intimidated. I wondered if I'd be able to finish even the windows on this level. My windows at home, even the sliding glass on the back door was only about four feet by seven feet times two. The next biggest windows were half that size or less. I needed to get one of those window squeegee things, like they had at the gas stations, for cleaning your car windows.

"You clean these yourself?"

"I have a service just like you do, but I couldn't resist seeing the look on your face when you saw the windows you'd have to clean."

I thought she meant I didn't need to clean her windows, but that isn't what she meant, as I soon found out. To make a long story shorter, it took me four hours to clean all those big windows on the first floor, to the point where she was satisfied.

The whole time I was up on her ladder working, she was standing there watching me. She kept refilling her wine glass too. That was another thing, her drinking while I worked. She offered me water to drink. Said she didn't want to take a chance that I'd have some wine and fall off the damn ladder. Didn't want to open herself up to a lawsuit she said.

After I was done downstairs, she made some comment about how late it was getting, and told me it was okay with her if I knocked off for then and came back to finish the upstairs on Friday night. I was tired enough already to accept her offer. The drive back to my place gave me a chance to privately vent some of my anger at how I was being treated by Evelyn. She hadn't spoken but a few words to me the whole time I was in her apartment. Most of that was to point out spots that I'd missed, or some streaks she wanted rubbed away.

I'm not sure what I'd been expecting, but it wasn't that I'd be treated like some menial hireling, some stranger. She could have been a lot friendlier, or at least a better hostess for my visit. I had come over to pay my debt. She didn't have to make it such an unfriendly visit. Maybe unfriendly is the wrong word. Maybe impersonal would be a better way of describing her attitude. I was glad I was more than halfway finished. I had to admit that I thought this experience would go a long ways toward teaching me to keep a tighter rein on my mouth from now on. I wasn't looking forward to coming back the following night.

At eleven thirty that night, Rick called me, wanting all the down and dirty details about my visit to Evelyn. I took out some of my frustrations on him. After I was done yelling at him, I had little doubt that he believed all I'd done was clean her big ass windows. I went to bed, angry and sore. In the morning, I was still sore. Both my arms felt like I'd been carrying something over my head for a week. I wasn't looking forward to paying the rest of my lost bet. Only my small sense of pride kept me from going to Evelyn's office that day to ask for a postponement. After the way she'd treated me the night before, I didn't want to give her that satisfaction.

I figured it wouldn't take more than two or three hours to finish up her windows. After that, we'd be even again. I could put up with her attitude for that length of time. Maybe I deserved what she was giving me. No, I did deserve it. Realizing that, I resolved to complete my penalty and put the whole thing behind me.

At four o'clock on Friday I received a phone call from Evelyn, asking me to come to her office.

"Are we all set for tonight? Seven again, right?"

"Seven is good. I'm thinking about two more hours should do it. You think that's about right?"

"Two or three, depending on how hard you work. Four more big panels to go, but you have to be careful on each of the end panels, because of the drapes and the shears. Did you have plans for after you finished?"

"Not really plans. Rick and I usually go out for a few drinks and some clubbing on Friday's. If it takes three hours, I'll probably just go home after. He and I can set something up for Saturday if I bag it tonight."

"I'm surprised you like going out like that. From what I remember from the old days, you mostly liked to stay at home and watch the tube. It was like pulling teeth to get you to go out and do something."

"Different time, different circumstances. I make a lot more money for one thing, and my student loans are all paid now. Clubbing isn't too expensive if you don't drink that much. We usually only stay at one place, for one drink, unless there's something interesting going on. Most of the time, we're in and out in less than half an hour."

"I doubt that you'd have too much luck finding anything interesting if you plan on wearing the same kind of clothes there that you had on last night."

"I plan on going back home and getting cleaned up. Things don't really get going at the clubs much before eleven or so. It takes awhile for people to drink enough to start feeling loose and relaxed."

"You mean the girls won't give you what you're after until they're falling down drunk?"

"No, it's usually the guys who drink the most. Girls can be intimidating if you don't have a little buzz going. I don't have that particular problem, but having a few drinks tends to make me more sociable."

I left her office after that and went back to clear off my desk for the weekend. I'd been doing the same job for so long that everything had settled into an easy routine for me. I could handle my responsibilities in my sleep. There was nothing either new or challenging about my job.

I left my condo at six thirty, new squeegee in hand, determined to make short work of those last four window panels. This time when I entered Evelyn's lobby, the door person told me to go right up. I liked that. No waiting around while she called up to get permission, leaving me feeling like a doofus while I waited.

This time I had to knock at Evelyn's door. It didn't take long for her to open it. When she saw my new squeegee in my hand, she started laughing. She led me upstairs. There was one room up there, and it was a big one. Against the far wall was a large curtain. Evelyn went over near her bed and pushed two buttons. In a second, the dark curtain and this thin white other curtain inside began to open. When they stopped, I could see the four window panels I needed to clean. I noticed the ladder from last night was set up next to the first panel. For some reason, I hadn't noticed it before.