Waiting For Ethan Read Online Free PDF

was so confused by the dichotomy between her name, accent, and appearance that I couldn’t concentrate on the questions she was asking. Finally she slammed her hand on the desk. “What the matter?” she asked, sounding more Chinese than ever.
    â€œI’m sorry. You just look so Irish.”
    A strand of hair had fallen across her eye. Instead of swiping it away with her hand, she blew it back in place before speaking. “My accent’s pretty good, isn’t it? It’s an imitation of my mother-in-law. I love doing that to people.” She laughed.
    I gave her my best look of disapproval, but I was trying really hard not to laugh. “How old are you?”
    She laughed but didn’t answer.
    Two years ago Luci and her husband, Kip, divorced. We all assumed she’d go back to her maiden name, Corrigan. I swear the only reason she hasn’t is so that she can keep playing her childish prank on new employees.
    When Kip and Luci separated, she called in sick for a week. When she returned to work, she was no longer wearing her rings. “Is everything all right with Kip?” I asked.
    There wasn’t a hint of emotion in Luci’s voice when she answered, “Kip moved out and is no longer an acceptable subject of conversation.”
    â€œWhat happened?”
    â€œThat’s between Kip and I.”
    â€œMe. Between Kip and me.” Sometimes I just can’t help myself.
    Luci rolled her chair back from her desk so hard that it hit the wall behind her and stormed out of the office. We’ve barely talked about Kip since.
    Despite her reluctance to talk about herself, Luci is the best friend I have had since Neesha moved. In fact, sharing an office with her is much how I imagine sharing a room with a sister would have been. Today, when I get to work, I notice a keyboard stained with coffee in the trash next to Luci’s desk, yet Luci sits behind her computer, typing away. When I look at my desk, I see that my keyboard is missing. “Give me back my keyboard.”
    â€œJust go to IT and get a new one.” I walk to her desk and rip the keyboard cord out of the monitor. Luci picks up the keyboard and hugs it tightly to her chest. “Just go to IT.”
    I yank on the cord. “You go!”
    Our manager, Jamie, walks in on our argument. “Gina’s trying to steal my keyboard,” Luci whines.
    â€œIt’s my keyboard.”
    Jamie ignores us. “Cooper Allen submitted a report that needs to be at Apple by three today. Which one of you has the bandwidth?” Luci points at me, and just like that, I’m stuck with the rush job.
    Â 
    I’m so engrossed editing the report that I don’t notice what’s happening outside until just after 1 p.m., when Luci stands before me, dressed in her coat, hat, and gloves. “It’s snowing really hard.” She uses her keys to point to the window behind me. “I’m leaving before it gets worse. You should, too.”
    I turn toward the window. Luci’s right. Flakes the size of cotton balls pour from the sky, and a thick white blanket covers the ground. Honest to God, I have no business living in New England. I hate snow, and I especially hate driving in it. I should be in Florida for the winter with my parents.
    â€œThey’re predicting seventeen inches,” Luci says.
    The forecast I heard this morning was two to three inches, but I can see that there is already at least four or five inches out there. Imagine being a meteorologist and everyone knowing when you screw up at work? Of course, if I was wrong as often as our local meteorologists, I certainly wouldn’t have a job anymore. “I’ll leave as soon as I finish editing Cooper’s report.”
    â€œWell, be careful.” Luci leaves without offering to help. That’s Luci Chin, my best friend.
    Three hours later, the snow comes halfway up my shins as I trudge through the parking lot to my car.