Fall
Fall (Aka The Repairman)
“It’s only eighty degrees!” Karen rolls her eyes playfully at Foggy.
“Only eighty degrees!?! Only eighty! Karen -” Foggy holds up a limp piece of paper from the copier. “It’s so hot in here the paper is molting!”
“Alright! Alright! I’ll call the air conditioning guy back.” She spins on her black heels as if she can’t escape the break room fast enough.
Foggy sighs, wiping the sheen of sweat off his brow. He wishes Matt hadn’t stayed on vacation in LA after that swanky legal conference was over. He needs those super senses right now.
Something is going on with Karen and he can’t figure out what it is…
…Or why the air conditioner is such a point of contention.
When the AC went out in mid-June, Karen jumped on the task of getting it repaired.
Combed through Yelp and Google reviews like she was their office manager again - not the firm’s PI. After she’d narrowed it down to her top choice, Karen did what any self-respecting millennial would do: She made an appointment with the AC company online.
Foggy was sure he’d return from LA to a cool and comfy office - not a humid, oppressive Amazon jungle.
It was…weird. Karen’s not the type of person to let things fall by the wayside.
(Though he was impressed with the indoor plants Karen bought to decorate Nelson, Murdock, & Page in his absence. There’s a tall fiddle leaf fig tree in the waiting area, some pathos hanging from the bookshelf, and the vase of white roses on Karen’s desk is a nice touch.)
“Thank you,” he calls out to her closing office door. Silence except the sound of Karen rummaging through her purse for her cell phone. Then…
“Hey…”
He can hear her talking to someone, but the tone sounds…odd. How he wishes Matt was here to eavesdrop.
Two days later, Foggy walks into the office at 7am and practically dies of shock. Karen is already there: She’s leaning against the break room counter watering the nearby spider plant. An iced coffee and a single white rose are shielded by her purse – as though she tucked them away in hopes he wouldn’t notice.
He pretends not to; he has more important things to discuss…like the state-of-the-art Dyson Pure Cool fan in the corner.
“Where did that…Why…Why are you here so early?”
“The air conditioning guy came by. He needs a part to fix our unit. Left us the fan in the meantime.”
“But it’s seven in the morning.”
“He had a full schedule.”
She says it so matter-of-factly that Foggy decides to drop his interrogation. He just nods and goes over to the filing cabinet to look up the notes for his upcoming deposition. It isn’t until an hour later – as he’s basking in the blessedly cool breeze of the Dyson – that he realizes how early the repairman must have stopped by.
“Karen…?”
“Hmmm?” She’s sipping her iced coffee, scanning through a stack of files.
“Nothing.”
He returns to his case preparation. So what if his friend flirts to get the AC fixed. Who is he to judge.
***
It isn’t until later that evening – when he pops in the bodega by Marci’s apartment to get some tomatoes for the spaghetti sauce he’s making her – that Foggy begins to suspect the cause of Karen’s absentmindedness.
Whatever Happened to the Punisher?
The New York Bulletin headline glares up at Foggy from beside the register.
Suddenly he remembers that summer day Frank Castle’s face was all over the news for escaping Metro General. He remembers Karen walking into the office half a day late with no shoes on. It’s been…however long it’s been since then doesn’t matter. The day still holds significance for Karen. Maybe Foggy should quit whining about the AC.
***
Two nights later, he runs three blocks back to the office; he almost forgot his apartment key in his desk drawer. Foggy can feel the humidity sticking to his skin and it makes him irritable. The new silk shirt Marci bought him will need to be cleaned and not even stepping back into the office will provide relief.
When the hell is that air conditioning guy going to –
-
-
-
Foggy stops short as he opens the door to the lobby. The first thing that hits him is the cold feeling of circulating air. The second thing is the sight of tools strewn by the AC unit. The third thing…is the realization that a broad-shouldered man in a black t-shirt and jeans is cradling Karen’s hand to his cheek.
Upon hearing the door open, Karen and the man both jump up from the couch.
“Foggy! I…this…our AC is fixed!” Karen’s face is so red she might as well have been at the beach all day.
He bobs his head, eyes blinking at the air conditioning guy.
“Counselor. Good to see you.” Frank Castle’s deep voice is still as scary as ever, but the slight pink blush of his neck helps Foggy relax some.
“I…you. The papers said you’re dead. But you’re not…You’re…here…with Karen.” And now Foggy wants to die.
Castle gives a small chuckle. “I made a…big career change…couple months back. Buddy of mine who's good with tech stuff help me set up my website…And…yeah. I’m with her as long as she’ll let me be.”
Foggy doesn’t miss the hopeful look the former vigilante shoots Karen.
Karen – composure regained – smiles. “Give me a ten percent discount and you’ve got yourself a deal.”
To Foggy’s surprise they both laugh. He smiles at Karen – happy to see her happy – as he pulls up a chair. There’s a story behind all this. One Foggy wants to hear.
At least he has a cool, comfy spot to sit and to listen.