“I dropped this. Can you get me a new screen in-house?”
She swallows, nodding three or four times. Her fingers drum nervously on the edge of the iPad.
“Is something wrong?” I ask her carefully.
“You’re… Irving Galloway. Irving. Galloway.”
I smile tightly. I should’ve known someone would recognize me.
“I’m Tabby… Tabitha.”
She looks so frightened, I almost feel bad for her.
“I’m Opal’s best friend,” she explains, her voice hoarse.
“Oh!” I exclaim. “Yes, of course. I think I’ve seen you in the garden. With Opal. It’s nice to meet you.”
Her face brightens considerably. “Nice to meet you too!” she squeaks.
Searching my eyes, she seems eager to say something. I just wait, wondering what the proper protocol is. Without shame, she looks me over in detail. I can practically feel her eyes tracing the lines of my face, my neck, my shoulders, my chest, and then downward.
“So, do you think you can fix it?”
“Well, nobody knows—wait. You mean the iPad?”
“Of course I mean the iPad,” I scowl. “What did you think I meant?”
“Oh, nothing!” she sings out. “Yes, of course. I mean, not me personally. But yes. I can get Miguel to do it in a few minutes. He’s busy. But he can do it. I promise.”
She drums her fingers on the front of the iPad, blissfully unaware of the tiny shards of glass.
“Okay, so…” I start, trying to back away.
“She’s amazing, right? I mean… I’m biased. Of course I am. But isn’t she?”
“Oh, okay. You want to talk about Opal.”
She shrugs, but doesn’t drop the subject. “She was always smarter than everybody,” she explains. “But she’s the last person who would ever tell you that. Like, has she ever said that? Has she ever said anything about herself?”
“Oh, no. Now that you mention it. I don’t believe she has.”
Tabby smiles knowingly. “That’s just Opal. She doesn’t think about herself that way. She doesn’t think about herself first. And even when she does… Think about herself, I mean. Even when she does that she’s, I don’t know, nice?”
I nod. But this doesn’t seem to be enough for her.
“Isn’t she? Nice?” she persists.
“She is,” I agree softly.
“Right! So, you noticed. Everybody notices. But Opal… I think when her parents passed, Opal figured that was it. A door had closed or something. She was cut off from the future. You know what I mean?”
Actually, I do,I think but do not say.
“She wants to do things for everybody else,” Tabby continues undeterred. “And she’s brilliant. She’s going to do amazing things. You should know that.”
The insistent tone in her voice rankles me. Doesn’t she think I noticed all those things? After all, I’m the one who found her. I’m the one who created the opportunity for her. I’m the one who hired her, and the one who let her underachieve all this time while she got comfortable in the environment of our company. I did that. For her.
And it suddenly occurs to me that I blame her for not noticing.