Peggy was headed towards the laundry room when she spotted Angie, who was leaning against a wall outside her apartment. She walked up behind her. "Are you alright? You look a little...distracted."
"I'm fine, just got a lot on my plate lately." That wasn't a complete lie. Truth be told, Angie had been thinking about the night she spent with Dottie while Peggy was gone. It had started out innocently enough, with Angie inviting Dottie to her room to share a bottle of bourbon. However, as the night went on, Dottie had tried to proposition her. Angie had refused, but that wasn't what bothered her. While they were talking, Angie told Dottie about how one of Peggy's coworkers had died. Dottie asked how he had died, which Angie didn't know because Peggy hadn't told her. Dottie suggested that maybe he had died on the job and the phone company had forced Peggy to stay silent.
Once Angie had sobered up, she realized that this was just ridiculous. It made perfect sense that Peggy wouldn't tell her how her coworker died. Angie didn't know the man. Why should she know how he died? Sure, Peggy would act defensive whenever Angie asked about him, but losing someone you know could be hard on a person. It wasn't right to bring those feelings up. Angie's mind was at ease, or at least until Peggy had come home. She noticed that Peggy started to act more distant than usual. She told Angie less about her days at the phone company and seemed like she was preoccupied with something. Dottie's theory was making more and more sense. If the phone company was being sued and Peggy was caught in the middle of things, it would explain her secretive behavior and why she looked stressed. Angie didn't even necessarily believe Dottie's theory. What bothered her was that there was something in Peggy's life that was causing her this much distress, and she wouldn't tell Angie.
Angie followed Peggy down the hall. "Hey, how are things at the phone company?"
"Same as usual," said Peggy. "Still getting asked for coffee."
"So nothing interesting happened there?" said Angie.
Peggy stopped to pick up a blouse she had accidently dropped. "Someone's been stealing pens. Is that interesting enough for you?"
"Not really," said Angie.
"You know," said Peggy. "While I was with my family, I managed to get my hands on a bottle of scotch. Do you want me to come over and let you have some?"
Angie thought about it for a moment. "Sure, why not?"
"Good," said Peggy. "See you tonight."
Angie lay on her bed, thinking about Peggy. Angie figured she had a basic understanding of right and wrong. A company that tried to cover up someone's death so they wouldn't have to pay his family compensation, was undoubtedly wrong. However, Angie knew from personal experience that good people could do bad things in the right circumstances. A good person who was being pressured by their boss and getting attacked by lawyers could easily be forced to lie for some greedy fat cat. So in theory, Angie didn't have a problem with Peggy getting involved in some corporate conspiracy. The thing was, Angie didn't really know Peggy that much. Sure, out of all the people who lived at the Griffith, Angie was the closest with Peggy, but that wasn't really saying much. The few times Peggy had opened up, Angie was still not sure how genuine she was being. Was Peggy the kind of person who would lie about a friend's death without a second thought? Maybe. The point was Angie didn't know and it was eating her up inside.
Angie heard a knock on her door. "Come in, it's unlocked."
It was Peggy. "Hey. Here's the scotch."
"Great," said Angie.
Peggy took out the bottle of scotch, opened it, and handed it to Angie. "Here, try it out."
"Gladly." Angie grabbed the bottle and took a sip. She had decided not to get as drunk as she did with Dottie. If she was going to get to the bottom of this, she would have to be sober. Angie would take little sips of scotch, while Peggy got drunk. When the moment was right, she would find a way to bring up the death of Peggy's coworker. Hopefully, all the alcohol in her system would get Peggy to tell the truth and Angie would finally get an honest answer. Or at least that was the plan. In reality, Angie took bigger and bigger sips until her hands started to shake, while Peggy seemed perfectly fine.
"Angie, are you okay?" said Peggy.
"Oh, I'm fine English," said Angie.
"Are you sure?" said Peggy.
"Of course," said Angie as she accidently dropped the bottle.
Peggy grabbed the bottle before it hit the floor. "Maybe you should lay down."
"Yeah, maybe I should." Angie laid down on her bed and started giggling.
"What's so funny?" said Peggy.
"Oh nothing," said Angie. "It's just that while you were gone, I got this bottle of bourbon I thought we could share, but I ended up drinking it without you."
"An entire bottle of bourbon?" said Peggy. "You finished an entire bottle of bourbon all by yourself?"
"Not by myself," said Angie. "Dottie helped me out."
"Dottie?" said Peggy. "So you invited her over?"
"Yeah," said Angie.
"How was she?" said Peggy.
"Not how I'd expect," said Angie. "We talked mostly."
"About what?" said Peggy.
"You," said Angie. "We talked about you a lot."
"What about me?" said Peggy, a concerned tone creeping into her voice. "Anything I should worry about?"
"I told Dottie about your dead friend." For some reason, Angie figured this was the appropriate time to bring that up.
Peggy was silent for a moment. "What did you tell her?"
"Exactly what you told me," said Angie. "Nothing. Though, Dottie had this crazy theory. That you weren't telling me what happened because he died on the job and the phone company didn't want to pay compensation."
Peggy let out a fake laugh. "Really? How could anyone die at the phone company?"
"Electrocution?" said Angie. "Maybe he fell off a telephone pole? I don't know, it was just something Dottie thought. It's not true, right?"
"No, of course not." Peggy hesitated while she said it. Angie could see in her eyes that she was nervous. Dottie was right.
"English, you can tell me if Dottie's right," said Angie. "Did your friend die on the job?"
"No!" said Peggy, this time more forcefully.
"That's the truth?" said Angie.
"Yes," said Peggy.
"Then why are you so secretive?" said Angie.
"I'm not secretive," said Peggy.
Angie laughed. "Really? Then what happened to your friend? Come on tell me."
"I can't," said Peggy. "But not for the reasons you think."
"Okay," said Angie. "Then how about his name. You know, I don't think you ever told me his name. Why? What's so secret that-"
"Ray," said Peggy. "His name was Ray Krzeminski. As to why I didn't tell you how he died, that's because I don't know. No one told me. The only thing I know is just gossip. Someone told me he died in a car accident. Someone else told me he was mugged. I can't really know for sure. Do you believe me?"
Angie just stared at Peggy. "Yes. I believe you."
"Thanks," said Peggy.
"Look English...I'm so sorry," said Angie. "I get it. This was hard on you and I should have tried to force you to open up."
"No, it's fine." Peggy hugged Angie and kissed her on the lips.
Angie started to feel light headed and yawned. "Sorry, I guess the scotch is making me sleepy."
"I'll leave. Good night." Peggy pulled the covers over Angie and left through the door. She put what remained of the scotch on Angie's nightstand. Something for Angie to drink tomorrow.