The two women squared up.
“I could say the same thing about you,” the woman I knew as Cathy, but was really named Angela, said with equal intensity.
This was where discretion was required, and not get between them. Perhaps a pitcher of cold water might come in handy though.
A thought occurred to me, one that should have come to me a lot earlier.
“What’s the name of Joseph’s wife?”
Both women suspended glaring at each other and turned it on me. “What that got to do with this,” Miriam asked.
“Do you know what her name is, or not?”
“Where is she?”
“Home, where she always is.”
“Joseph said she was having an affair with Al.”
Miriam laughed harshly. “How could she?” And realized the implication of that statement the moment it left her mouth.
“Why would Joseph think she was?”
“Why ask me? I only saw the woman twice the whole time I’ve been working in the office and that was the day after they got married and their first anniversary.”
She looked thoughtful for a moment and then said, “Damn. I forgot about that.”
And abruptly turned and ran out of the office.
Leaving me with a sudden thought, I was standing in front of what could be Joseph and Edwina Jones daughter, Angela, and why did she have the surname Morrison?
© Charles Heath 2016-2019