Page 60 of Not Bad for a Girl
I cleared my throat. “Hi, everyone,” I said.
There was silence. Finally, Mike broke it. “Can you go get your dad?”
“Wait a second,” Bruce said. “I recognize you. We saw you at the bar when we all came to Denver, didn’t we? Oh! And we saw you hidingbehindthe bar when Melvin played Waffle Wars. You’re Indiana? You were Indiana then, too, weren’t you?”
“I’m Indiana Aaron. I always have been,” I said, with as much authority as I could muster. “But you can call me ‘Ana.’”
Again, another long pause. Then what sounded like a disappointed sigh from Allen. “For real?”
“Yes, for real,” I said.
“I kind of had a crush on Indiana,” Allen said. “He sounded so cool.”
“You and the rest of the world. I’m not a pilot, or a lion tamer, or a race car driver. None of which have anything to do with my job. I’m a coder, and I let Melvin and the rest of you believe what you wanted. Is this going to be a problem?”
They all shook their heads politely.
“Absolutely not,” Bruce said. “Frankly, I’m far less intimidated than I was before. Not because you’re a girl,” he added hastily, “but because Indiana was, like,tooperfect. Even a little bit scary.”
“Yes,” Mike added emphatically. “Nobody’s that cool. It was unnerving. Not that you’re not cool,” he said to me, looking embarrassed. “I just mean—”
“It’s okay,” I told them. “I understand what you meant. And I feel the same way. Indiana is a lot to live up to. But I’m Ana, and I put together the interface idea for S.J. Sporting. And you were right; Melvin tried to steal my idea and cut me out.”
“I knew it!” Bruce yelled, pointing at me. “I called it. Everyone owes me a beer.”
“But I was able to meet with S.J. before Melvin could, and I secured the account for Artemis.”
“Yessssssss,” Evan cried and sprang out of his seat. “You didn’t tell me that! That makes things so much easier!”
“Wooooooo!” Allen whooped. “You rock, Ana!”
A lump welled in my throat, and I swallowed hard.Thiswas what I’d been missing and craving. Comradery, support, being part of a team in more than name only.
“What about the pottery?” Allen asked tentatively. “Someone keeps outbidding me on one of Indiana’s pieces about his time in a war. Is that real?”
I blinked at him. “I made the pottery, Allen. But it doesn’t reflect my time in a war. I wasn’t in a war. And neither was Indiana—” I stopped. What was the point in policing a fictional narrative? It was weird how people, as accepting as the team might be of me personally, refused to completely let go of the idea of Indiana, even, apparently, me. And someone was outbidding him? What was wrong with people?
“So what comes next?” Mike asked.
“Well, obviously Melvin is going to fire me,” I said. “I think he’ll wait until after the project is complete because he needs me, but he’s frozen me out, so I’m not totally sure. I debated just peacing out—”
“No!” Mike exclaimed. “Please don’t. We can’t make this without you. And I need this job. Violet and I are trying IVF, and it’s so freaking expensive, and I can’t afford to lose this job.”
“I can’t either,” Allen added. “I just hired an at-home hospice nurse for my mom. She really doesn’t want to go to a home.”
“That’s super sad,” Bruce threw in. “I want to keep my job because I want a sweet car.”
Boy, they knew how to tug at the heartstrings. Except Bruce. “I’m going to stay on and see this project through,” I told them. “I need this on my résumé, and I would hate to leave you all in that situation. The only potential issue is Melvin.”
“He sent me to Denver to find out what I could about the famous Indiana Aaron,” Evan said. “And I found her.” He laughed.
“And Melvin doesn’t know Indiana’s really his own daughter?” Bruce asked.
Like, what?
Evan grinned. “Nope.”
They all laughed this time, and even I joined in because it wasn’t malicious; it was joy in having secret information that Melvin didn’t share.