7
‘As waiting rooms go,’ said Jay, ‘This one isn’t bad.’ He reposed himself upon the grass once more, shut his eyes, and apparently dozed off.
I stood watching him for a few minutes, undecided about whether or not to interrupt his nap. As opportunities for R&R went, the locale was ideal but the timing was pretty bad.
But he looked so comfortable lying stretched out in the verdure, with a tiny half-smile on his sunbathed face, that I didn’t have the heart.
He didn’t seem to mind that he was exhausted, yet expected to soldier on; nor that Milady kept him hopping, week in, week out. He never complained. Either he loved the job that much, or he had one hell of a work ethic.
Which made me wonder, once again, about the Jay behind the workhorse façade. Though we’d been working together for s
