The Cupel Recruits by Susan Willshire Page A

her own. At least she was used to that, though she was used to having her family there when she did need them, though it was more often a situation of wanting their company than needing it.
    Lela had continued to stay at her house and had not yet ventured over to her parent’s house since the day they died. At least by Gretchen and Gabriel living together, she wouldn’t have to pack up Gabriel’s house, too. It was Gretchen’s now and Lela would allow her to deal with his belongings as she saw fit. Anything else would be intrusive. She had received two calls from her parent’s lawyer. That was the funny thing about the world: mortgages, property insurance, and other such practicalities left little room for grief. So, Lela was returning to work and moving into cleanup mode on all those practical details suffocating her thoughts at night.
    She wore a dark grey wrap dress with professional accessories, but nothing too flashy. She still felt as if bright colors would be disrespectful, though there were no official rules on it. It was just her own personal discomfort that governed her selections. Despite her efforts to look plain, she was still stunning and did fulfill her true aim, to appear capable to the new project team members arriving that day-Yet another aspect of the world that would not wait for her to catch her breath. Lela grabbed her keys and grey patent leather laptop case while holding a letter to mail between her teeth as she picked up 3 boxes with a prong-like finger arrangement on her free hand. She pulled the door swiftly behind her with her foot and scurried quickly out of the way so it could lock properly without her involvement.
    Lela drove up the mountain road to the sparkling new project facility and saw the temporary patch on the break in the guardrail along the mountainside road. She felt nauseated and gripped by grief rising up in the form of a huge lump in her throat. She focused on the road ahead, trying hard not to look at the guardrail or the view over the side and forced herself to take deep, even breaths. If she had to come here every day, she thought, she’d have to quit her job. She had discussed this with the new Secretary, replacing Madame, and the two concluded Lela should accompany the core team to Africa and work from there starting next week. If not for this development, she could not have continued. It was hard enough without driving this road every day.
    The new Secretary, Mr. Pfister, must have been watching for her because he greeted her as soon as she entered the building. At that moment, it struck her that she’d never seen the finished interior. She had seen the structure, yes, but not with all the phones, equipment, decorations and people. Bright flowers in glass vases were evenly spaced down a long table against the wall in the entry alcove, with large glass walls behind. A beautiful, tapestry-style rug combined with the flowers to provide some symmetry to the space and avoid the clinical feel which would have otherwise prevailed. It really had turned out well, and within budget. As soon as they exited the alcove, however, it was clean glass lines and white walls, with the occasional generic print artwork to break up the landscape. They obviously ran out of decorating money after twenty feet, not uncommon on a government project, but the difference stood out. She was also struck by the bright line contrast between Mr. Pfister, and his predecessor. Madame Secretary, as Lela called her, was cold and shallow to the core. Mr.Pfister immediately took her coat and offered to get her a coffee. Though his nurturing qualities were no doubt enhanced by the circumstances, his behavior was still something that never would have even occurred to Madame. Lela felt slightly guilty for being glad that she was gone. She didn’t want the woman dead, of course, but off the project certainly did make her life easier, hence the guilty mixed feelings.
    “I’m sorry the Governor cannot be here,”