He saw her name and smiled.
“Evelyn Price.”
“Daniel.”
Her voice erased the smile.
“What happened?”
Silence.
Then, “They’re letting people go.”
Daniel leaned the rake against the fence.
“Who?”
She named six employees.
Each name was familiar.
One had spent eighteen years in shipping.
Another had joined customer service fifteen years earlier.
A maintenance coordinator had been with the company since his twenties.
Daniel walked toward the patio and sat.
“Why?”
“Restructuring.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means consulting reports and severance packages.”
“Are you included?”
A pause.
“My position is being eliminated at the end of the quarter.”
Daniel closed his eyes.
Evelyn had been preparing to retire eventually.
But that was different.
“Are you all right?”
“I’ll manage.”
“I know you will.”
She was quiet.
Then she said, “That’s not why I called.”
Daniel waited.
“I’m worried about what the place is becoming.”
He looked across the yard.
Autumn leaves covered the grass Margaret used to complain he raked too early every year.
“What do you mean?”
“People are scared.”
“Of layoffs?”
“Of becoming numbers.”
Daniel said nothing.