The Holdovers

Watching Cory Fowler sniffling out of the corner of her eye, Brook couldn’t think of another person more accident prone. In the short space of time she had been here he had already tripped over the threshold and accidentally knocked a pile of magazines over, not to mention that he had scraped his knees some time ago. It wouldn’t surprise her if he had accidentally walked into the waiting room while looking for the restroom and was now too embarrassed to leave. It’d been fifteen minutes since his clumsy entrance but he remained seated a couple of chairs away from her, dabbing his nose with a sad wad of tissue paper.

They were the only two people in the waiting room. Occasionally, someone would pass by, delivering papers or in search of possible wayward children. Brook sighed and rested her elbows on her knees. She hadn’t eaten anything for breakfast and was now beginning to regret it. How much longer was this going to take? Regretfully, the door to Major’s office was doing a fine job guarding the meeting within from curious ears.

“Miss Brooklyn?” Cory asked, his own curiosity finally getting the best of him.

“Yes?”

“Does this mean that you’re coming back?”

Looking at the closed door, she made a vague gesture but said,

“I hope so.”

“Why? Did you get into a fight?” Cory asked, picking at a scab on his right knee.

“No. It just didn’t work out.”

Even though he was only eight years old, and a major klutz, Cory wasn’t a fool. His green eyes watched her from under his dark blond fringe.

“It would have been nice, wouldn’t it?” he asked softy. “If everything had worked out fine and you could stay with them.”

“…Yeah, it would have been great.”