“The Meeting,” by Alix Ohlin

Fiction faculty member Alix Ohlin was recently featured in the Virginia Quarterly Review. Read an excerpt of “The Meeting” below:

Fiction writer and faculty member Alix Ohlin.

The Meeting

In the meeting, James Halliday announced the company was being sold and then he couldn’t stop coughing. This was bad timing—both the sale of the company and the coughing— because everyone, including Mallory, had a lot of questions about the sale and the coughing fit seemed a little too prolonged to be real, theatrically timed and thus suspect, though James was well-liked overall and thought to be a straight shooter by the kind of people who used the term straight shooter and believed in such a thing. Mallory was also sick, though she wasn’t coughing. She had multiple doctor’s appointments scheduled but she kept canceling them and coming to work instead, because she, like everyone else, knew the sale was coming and wanted to be there when the news came out. She poured James a glass of water. He drank, his eyes wild and red and teary, then said, “As I was saying—” and started coughing all over again.

Mallory exchanged glances with Simone across the table. Simone looked panicked. Technically she was second in command because a sudden string of executive departures had left her there, designated-survivor style, but she was twenty-five and had confided to Mallory in the restroom, after asking her for a tampon, that she was applying to law school.

“I think what James was saying,” said Shyama from HR, “is that we deeply value everyone’s contributions here and the company will be looking to make this transition as smooth as it possibly can be.”

There was a silence strewn with James’s continued, though quieter, coughing.

“When?” Mallory said.

“When what?” Shyama said.

“When is the smooth transition? When is the sale? When is our last day of work?”

James Halliday finally subdued his cough. “It’s today,” he said. “It’s happening. It’s now.”

Some facts about James Halliday: He was exquisitely good-looking. He had high cheekbones and green eyes with notably long eyelashes. His mother was a Peruvian human-rights activist and his father was a cardiac surgeon who had met her while volunteering in the Peace Corps and the whole family, including James, returned to Peru for a period of time each year to do good works. Everyone at the company knew this from reading media profiles of him, though he never discussed it himself. When he was in Peru doing good works with his family, he was still accessible by email. He was always accessible by email. Mallory had never known anyone to return emails faster, on a regular basis, than James. On the evening she received her diagnosis, she wrote him at 10 p.m. to say that she would be taking a couple of personal days. She didn’t say why. He replied at eleven. I hope everything is right with you and the world, his email said, a message Mallory archived immediately so she’d never have to look at it again.

Read the story in its entirety here: https://www.vqronline.org/fiction/2021/03/meeting