I’m watching Pandora make breakfast, her hands moving efficiently as she cracks eggs into a pan. It’s one of those moments where everything feels normal, but my mind starts to wander. I notice the way Mr Whiskers is sitting on John Mercer’s lap, purring loudly as John tries to watch TV. It’s not like that usually happens. Our cat doesn’t really tolerate John’s presence unless food is involved, and even then there’s usually a certain amount of suspicion on both sides. Maybe it’s just a coincidence, but something about seeing Mr Whiskers voluntarily curled up on John’s lap feels slightly off. I’m trying to think this through logically. Maybe Mr Whiskers is feeling extra affectionate today because John isn’t leaving for work, or maybe John has finally figured out exactly where to scratch him. But that doesn’t fully account for the fact that the cat isn’t swatting at him or glaring at him like he normally does whenever prolonged physical contact occurs. Mr Whiskers is just sitting there, perfectly content, as though some private agreement has been reached without my knowledge.
Normally, I probably wouldn’t think much more about it, except Karen and Dave were acting strangely at work yesterday. They’re both coworkers of mine, and I’d noticed them talking quietly near Karen’s desk when I walked by. There’s nothing unusual about two coworkers talking, obviously, but the conversation stopped almost immediately when they noticed me. Karen suddenly became extremely interested in something on her computer, while Dave gave me one of those casual little smiles people give you when they’re trying very hard to demonstrate that absolutely nothing suspicious has just happened. At the time I ignored it. Now, standing in my kitchen and watching my previously John-hating cat purr happily in his lap, I’m starting to reconsider whether ignoring things has been my biggest mistake.
The more I think about yesterday, the more details start coming back. Karen asked what Pandora and I were doing this weekend. That seemed like an innocent question at the time. Then Dave asked whether I planned on being home Saturday. I didn’t think anything of that either, because Dave asks random questions all the time, but now I’m wondering why both of them were suddenly so interested in my weekend. Maybe Karen mentioned something to Dave before I got there. Maybe they’re planning something at work and deliberately keeping me out of it. Maybe the questions about Pandora and my weekend weren’t casual conversation at all, but an attempt to establish exactly where I would be and when. That sounds ridiculous when I put it that way, but Karen and Dave whispering to each other and then immediately shutting up when I walked past them was definitely real. I didn’t imagine that part.
Pandora looks over from the stove and asks why I’m staring into my coffee. I tell her I’m thinking about something that happened at work, which is technically true and saves me from having to explain that Mr Whiskers’ sudden friendship with John Mercer has somehow become part of the same investigation. She goes back to making breakfast, apparently satisfied with the answer, while I look toward the living room again. John is still watching television and Mr Whiskers is still sitting on him. Neither appears concerned. In fact, everyone in the apartment seems remarkably unconcerned except me, which is exactly the sort of thing that makes me concerned.
I start wondering whether Pandora knows anything about Karen and Dave. I’ve mentioned both of them often enough that she knows who they are, and Karen has come up in conversation plenty of times when I’ve complained about work. Maybe I said something recently that Pandora remembers and I don’t. Maybe Karen asked me about Pandora because I’d previously mentioned our weekend plans and simply forgotten about it. That would be the reasonable explanation, but the reasonable explanation doesn’t account for Dave asking whether I’d be home Saturday. Unless Karen told Dave about whatever I told Karen, which means they were discussing me anyway. I’m not sure whether that makes the situation less suspicious or more suspicious.
Then my phone buzzes on the counter. It’s a message from Karen asking whether I remembered what she and Dave told me yesterday. I stare at the screen because I have absolutely no idea what she’s talking about. I scroll mentally through every conversation I had at work, but nothing comes to mind that involved both Karen and Dave telling me something important. I consider asking what she means, but before I can respond, another message appears telling me not to worry about it. That is considerably worse. There are few phrases in the English language more effective at making a person worry about something than don’t worry about it. If Karen had simply said she sent the message to the wrong person, I might have accepted that. Instead, she has now confirmed that there is something I apparently knew yesterday, something involving both her and Dave, and something she no longer wants me worrying about today.
Pandora notices me staring at my phone and asks if something happened at work. I tell her Karen sent me a strange message, and Pandora shrugs before telling me to ask Karen what she meant. It’s an annoyingly sensible suggestion. I explain that asking directly could alert Karen that I don’t remember whatever she thinks I remember, thereby giving her an opportunity to change the story. Pandora looks at me for several seconds before returning to the eggs without saying anything. I know that look. It’s the look she gives me when she has decided that allowing me to hear my own reasoning is more effective than arguing with it.
Meanwhile, Mr Whiskers finally jumps down from John’s lap and strolls into the kitchen. I watch him carefully as he passes me without so much as a glance and goes directly to Pandora, who reaches down and scratches him behind the ears. That’s another interesting development. Five minutes ago he was inexplicably affectionate with John, and now he’s reporting directly to Pandora. Obviously, I understand that he’s a cat and therefore probably not reporting anything to anybody, but I also understand that I have underestimated Mr Whiskers before. He has a remarkable ability to appear completely uninvolved while somehow being present whenever something strange happens.
My thoughts return to Karen and Dave. Maybe they’re planning some kind of surprise at work. That would explain the whispering, the questions about my schedule, and why they stopped talking when I approached. It would also explain why Karen doesn’t want to clarify her message. A surprise is the obvious answer, except I can’t think of anything happening that would justify one. It isn’t my birthday. I’m not leaving the office. I haven’t won anything. As far as I know, nobody is celebrating anything involving me. Unless the surprise isn’t for me at all. Maybe they’re planning something involving someone else and are worried I’ll accidentally ruin it. That would make sense, except then why were they asking about Pandora and whether I would be home Saturday?
I begin reconstructing the entire previous afternoon. Karen and Dave talked quietly. They stopped when I approached. Karen asked about Pandora. Dave asked about Saturday. Later, I saw the two of them heading toward the elevators at roughly the same time. None of those things is suspicious individually, but together they form a pattern. Admittedly, the pattern might simply be two coworkers finishing work and asking another coworker what he’s doing over the weekend, but patterns always look innocent before you understand what they mean.
I decide John might provide an objective opinion, so I ask him whether he thinks two people abruptly ending a conversation when a third person approaches means they were talking about that person. John asks whether this is about Karen and Dave. I hadn’t mentioned their names, which immediately gets my attention until he reminds me that I spent ten minutes complaining about them yesterday after work. Apparently I told him Karen and Dave had been acting weird, which means this mystery has been bothering me longer than I realized. I ask whether I told him what Karen and Dave said to me, but John says no. Then he adds that I probably forgot because whatever happened wasn’t important. I don’t see how that follows logically. Forgetting something could just as easily mean somebody wanted me to forget it.
That’s when another possibility occurs to me. What if Karen and Dave aren’t hiding something from me? What if they think they already told me and are now hiding the fact that something has changed? Maybe yesterday they included me in whatever they were planning, but overnight something happened and now they’re trying to quietly back out of it. That would explain Karen’s message. She wanted to make sure I remembered, then Dave said something to her, and suddenly I wasn’t supposed to worry about it anymore. I don’t know what happened between those two messages, but something did. Messages don’t change their meaning spontaneously.
Pandora sets a plate of eggs in front of me and tells me to eat before they get cold. I ask whether she thinks Karen and Dave could be planning something behind my back. She asks what evidence I have, so I explain the whispering, the questions about Saturday, the message, the second message, and Dave’s suspiciously casual smile. Pandora listens patiently before pointing out that Dave always smiles like that. I admit this is true, but argue that consistency of suspicious behavior doesn’t make the behavior less suspicious. She tells me that sentence doesn’t mean what I think it means. I disagree.
Mr Whiskers jumps onto the chair beside Pandora and stares at me. John is back on the couch pretending not to listen, although I can tell from the slight grin on his face that he’s following every word. Pandora eats her breakfast. Mr Whiskers watches me. My phone sits silently on the counter, containing the only direct evidence I have that Karen and Dave are involved in something I apparently knew about yesterday and inexplicably don’t remember today.
Maybe it’s nothing. Maybe Karen sent a confusing message, Dave asked an innocent question, and two coworkers happened to stop talking at exactly the moment I approached them. Maybe Mr Whiskers suddenly likes John because John finally figured out that cats can be bribed. Maybe Pandora’s right and I should simply ask Karen what she meant instead of constructing an elaborate theory before breakfast. All of those explanations are reasonable.
But there’s one thing I can’t ignore.
Karen still hasn’t told me what I’m supposed to forget.
And now I’m definitely going to remember it.