I did.
I'd forgotten to pack lunch.
And for the first time since the funeral, I cried in front of someone who wasn't family.
He didn't try to fix it. He just sat there, letting me, as if that was enough.
And it was.
***
One Monday, Charles didn't come in.
I noticed right away. Eleven years of noon lunches will do that.
I cried in front of someone who wasn't family.
I told myself he was probably sick, that I'd see him Tuesday, that everything was fine.
Tuesday came and went.
Wednesday too.
On Thursday, my manager mentioned it almost as an afterthought, the way people mention things that don't feel like they belong to them.
"Oh, did you hear about the janitor? Charles, I think that was his name. Passed away over the weekend. Heart attack, I guess."
I told myself he was probably sick.
I sat there for a moment, not understanding the sentence even though every word in it was simple.
