Thread Reckoning
“He was excited and playful. I hung up my coat and then threw his tennis ball down the hall for him time after time until he calmed down a little.When he was relaxed enough to lie at my feet and chew on a rubber bone, I checked my phone messages. I’d heard back from Ted. He said he’d try to reach me again later but that if he didn’t, he’d see me tomorrow.Mom had called. I knew I should call her back, but I put it off until tomorrow. I dreaded telling her about Francesca Ortega. After all, Mom was in New York, and I didn’t want her to catch the first plane out when there was nothing she could do, anyway.I called David, and he answered on the first ring.“David Frist,” he said.“You sound very official,” I said.“Sorry.” He chuckled. “I didn’t recognize your number, and I thought it might be someone calling me about a job. You wouldn’t believe how many résumés I’ve sent out.”“Why didn’t you tell me you used to work with Frederic Ortega?” I asked.“Um .
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