The house seemed nice enough. A neat, well maintained Colonial on the small side. The kind of place you see in ads for towns named to a “Best Places to Live “ list. The lawn was manicured, the hedges trimmed, the only indication that it was the site of a dog reunion were the signs. They were everywhere, directing you to the walkway along the side of the house.
I overheard Terri’s end of the phone conversation because I felt like eavesdropping. She sounded excited, but at the same time she was all business.
“Yes, I’d like to take a little more off the sides this time, but not too short. Does that make sense?”
It did and it didn’t to me, but no one was asking.
“It’s going to be a blast,” she said. “There’ll be so many new faces, but old faces too, know what I mean? It’s kind of hard to explain.”
It was late, after eleven when I heard giggling coming from the kitchen. Being the curious sort I went downstairs, tiptoeing through the hallway and stood just outside the entrance to the room and listened.
There was another burst of chuckles. It was Terri, and I immediately assumed she had a bit too much wine. I peered into the kitchen to see her at the table, watching something on her computer. She was smiling, the kind of smile you have when you’re having a nice, relaxing time.
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I walked by Wilson’s office and did a double-take. I stopped, backed it up a few steps and
stood looking in. Then I stepped inside and tried to make sense of what I was seeing.
“Are you…”
“Knitting,” Wilson said, with pride. A level of pride that was disturbing.
It was the big day. Episode number one of “The Pulse,” our exciting new corporate podcast that I had been ordered, forced, and asked to host.
I was sitting at a table across from Ashley Coldwell, vice-president of Culture and Workplace Life. We both had old-school radio microphones set up in front of us. Wilson was at a little table in the corner behind Ashley with a headset on, checking dials and such, on an audio board.