The Girl Who Couldn't Come
“He’s used to making strange living rooms his home. She clears her throat and turns to the door. “In here,” she says. She’s not going to be intimidated by his notepad filled with numbers. There’s nothing to numbers, no substance. It’s all one through ten. She can count and she knows better than to be scared of some man who counts for a living. He gets up and joins her at the table. “This shouldn’t take long,” he tells her. “We’ll just go over your expenses. Do you have your receipts?” He has... a degree in accounting, she guesses, which he probably thinks is math. It isn’t. The word counting is right there, inside it. They all think that counting is math. Rose never got higher than a C- in high school math and that was good enough for the school boards and good enough for her. It wasn’t math, either. He probably got an A. The first time she ever saw math, real math, was in that used bookstore, when she opened an old book and let her breath catch inside of her.MoreLess
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