Handled
"Mr. Truman! Finally!" Oops. Angela lowered the phone to curse herself; she hadn't meant to be rude...
But Truman didn't seem to notice. As usual, he snapped right through the business at hand. "Sorry, Angela. I've been busy. I got your message about the rent. I'm terribly sorry. An incompetent clerk screwed up a dozen major transactions before the office manager realized what was going on. She's been fired. I'm terribly sorry it affected you; I know you have enough to worry about. The good news is I have a new girl starting with me Monday who's very good -- and for the salary she asked for, she better be. I'll get her to call and do a wire transfer first thing Monday, all right?"
"Um, okay. How come your phone was disconnected?"
"Disconnected? Absurd. He must have mis-dialed."
"He said he didn't."
"Of course; everyone says that. He mis-dialed. Or perhaps he just read it wrong..." He trailed off, apparently thinking back on something. "Wait a minute. Janet -- the clerk I had to let go -- she filled in your paperwork. I wouldn't put it past her to get the phone number wrong."
"Well, I gave him your number."
"The office number?"
"No, the private number you gave me. I figured you'd want them calling that number, you know, so your assistant doesn't find out."
"Sharp girl. It's been quite an adventure keeping you a secret."
"I'm sorry."
"Don't apologize. It's actually something of a game, now."
"Oh."
"In any case, the matter with the apartment should be resolved by Monday noon. All right?" It sounded like he was in a hurry; but he'd been so hard to get a hold of, she wanted to get what she could while she had him.
"Any news on the house?" she asked.
"Not yet."
Angela sighed. "Oh."
"It's only been four days, Angela. And not much happens on the weekend." Angela didn't appreciate his attempt at humor.
"Yeah, I guess."
Truman changed the subject.
"How's the job hunt going?"
"I haven't found anything yet. I'm going out later to get the Sunday paper."
"You don't sound very enthusiastic."
"Well, it's hard. I don't have any experience at anything."
"That may be, but you'll never get hired anywhere if you whine like that."
"I know..." she pouted.
"Are you okay? You sound upset."
Angela wondered if maybe that was his way of saying "quit whining."
"I guess. I'm just kinda tired all the time."
"How can you be tired?"
"I don't know. Maybe it's the Xanax."
"Are you still taking it?"
"Yeah, but I think maybe I should stop."
"Angela, we don't want any more episodes, do we?"
She was whiney, like a small child. "No..."
"Good. So you're going to go get that Sunday paper now, right?"
"Yeah. Um, Mr. Truman..."
"Jason."
"Yeah. Um..." She trailed off. This was awkward.
Truman knew what it was about. "You need money."
"Well..."
"Look, Angela, I don't mind lending you money, but you've got to show a little initiative, or I'm doing to start to wonder if maybe you're conning me..."
Angela was overcome with guilt. He was right. He was already doing so much for her. She had to learn to stand on her own two feet. "No, that's all right. I'll get by. I'm okay."
Truman seemed satisfied. "Well all right then. I'll talk to you soon. And don't worry about the rent -- it's handled."
"Bye," Angela sighed, but he was already off the line.