Authors: Olivia Jake
Thanksgiving had come and gone. Barb was too weak and uncomfortable to
do anything so we just stayed home together. I hadn’t put much thought into
Christmas. It had never been a big deal in our house. We were Jewish by culture
but I wasn’t raised with any religion so when I was little, I’d open presents
on Christmas day. As I got older and after my folks split, it was typically me
and Barb having a nice dinner together. Oftentimes, we’d travel over the
holidays so I never really had the sense of family and tradition that most
other people did.
It was the second week in December and I had avoided the yoga class.
Sherri texted me a few times and I blamed being too busy taking care of my mom
as to why I couldn’t get together with her. I was feeling like more and more of
a heel, but I couldn’t imagine facing her, much less hearing about her
relationship with Brad.
I’d retreated back to being practically anti-social at work and almost
didn’t even open the evite when I saw the subject “Put the OMG in More Egg Nog!”
I thought it was spam. But when I realized it was the invitation to our company
holiday party, I knew I couldn’t ignore it. It popped up in my inbox while I
was meeting with Tom.
“Tom, was that your headline on the holiday invite?” I knew the answer
before I asked, but Tom always seemed to need a pat on the back, and I tried to
give it even when his work was sub par, like now.
He blushed and looked at the floor like usual. “Yeah, um, too corny?”
“No! Not at all! It made me open it!”
“Really?”
I nodded and smiled and he seemed to relax a bit, though for Tom, there
was always a fine sheen of perspiration on his forehead and under his nose.
Poor guy wore an undershirt even on the hottest days because of the amount he
sweat.
“So, are you gonna go?” He asked a little too eagerly.
Other than that first poker party at Marty’s, I had avoided almost
every other social function, though most were unofficial get-togethers like
drinks after work. No one really questioned my excuse of needing to care for my
mom. In fact, the invitations pretty much stopped coming, not that I blamed
anyone. I never said yes, so they stopped asking.
But this wasn’t co-workers going out for drinks. This came from Marty
and it would have been poor form and disrespectful not to show. I knew I’d have
to go. And with everything else going on, the fear of being able to handle
myself at a function like this wasn’t nearly as threatening as it was before my
mom got sick. Funny how a little perspective could change things.
“Yeah, definitely! You?” I tried to feign enthusiasm.
“Totally! The holiday parties can get a little crazy. Everyone goes.
You’ll see!” He was so excited I felt like I knew what he looked like on
Christmas morning as a little boy, and couldn’t help but smile and laugh a
little.
The night of the party fell on Barb’s last chemo appointment before her
PET scan where we’d find out if all that she’d been going through had been
worth it. It was almost a month since Brad broke up with me and even though I
still missed him and thought about him whenever my mind was idle, I was trying
to move on as best I could, especially given the realization of who his wife
was.
As Barb started nodding off, I thought I was safe from seeing Brad. I
assumed if he saw her asleep, he wouldn’t come by. Once again, I was wrong.
“Stephanie.”
It was the first time he spoke to me in a month. If my body were a
separate being, I would have slapped it for the way it responded to his voice.
I tried to convince myself it was simply Pavlovian or something as I looked up
to encounter a typical Brad stare.
“Can I see you in my office?” He asked, no hint of mirth.
I made sure my mom was sleeping before I responded, but I still kept my
voice quiet. “You really think I’m going to fall for that?”
He clenched his jaw and bristled. “It’s not what you think. It’s not
that. I promise you.”
I rolled my eyes and bit my lip, not sure who I was more mad at, him or
me, as I got up in a huff and started following him down the hallway. When we
got inside, I kept my distance and he smirked.
“You don’t trust me.”
“You haven’t given me any reason to.”
He took a breath and paced a few steps. “I’m sorry for what I said
about Marty.”
I laughed once. “It’s taken you a month to apologize?”
“I realized I was only seeing it through my own experience. And I was
jealous. And hurt.”
“
You
were hurt?
You
broke up with
me
!”
“For what it’s worth, I didn’t want to.”
I smiled tightly and shook my head. “What, did Sherri have a gun to
your head?” He stopped in his tracks. Before he could speak, I continued.
“Yeah, imagine what a complete ass I felt like when I put two and two together.
Oh, wait, that’s right, you don’t give a shit. My bad.” I turned and started
towards the door.
“Wait,” was all he said, but it was enough to stop me. “I wanted to
give you this.” He held out a blue Tiffany’s box. I stared at it, but refused
to reach for it. “Take it, please. Open it.”
Begrudgingly, I did. It had been a month of no contact. A month of
mental torture, and now he was giving me something from Tiffany’s? I decided
not to mind-fuck myself any more than necessary as I pulled one end of the
small white satin ribbon and lifted the lid. Inside a tiny blue cloth pouch was
an engraved heart locket necklace. One side read
Mom
, the other
Barb
.
“So you can carry a picture of her with you close to your heart. Always.”
I didn’t know who this man was. Whether he was fucking with my head or
genuinely cared but was too screwed up to make things right. I didn’t thank
him. I couldn’t speak. I wanted to believe what he said, that he didn’t want to
break up with me, but what did that make me? It didn’t matter. I took the
little blue box and once again left his office close to tears.
****
I knew I shouldn’t have, but I had a drink before the company party as
I was getting dressed in my new little black dress, new because nothing I owned
fit anymore. I’d had such a screwed up body image growing up that I still
believed one couldn’t ever be too thin, though looking at my reflection, my
cheeks were hollow and my chest bones were a little too pronounced, even to me,
giving me one more thing to be anxious about. Which prompted me to pour myself
my second drink before leaving. It was also probably what compelled me to wear
the damn locket out of some misplaced sense of I’m not even sure what. Love?
Between seeing Brad earlier that day, receiving his gift and then the thought
of having to be social, I felt like I deserved those cocktails, so by the time
I got to the party I was slightly numbed. At least I had the wherewithal to
take a taxi there.
Marty had rented out a small French restaurant. The twinkly Christmas
lights outside made it feel warm and welcoming, and when I walked in, the
decorations of more white lights, deep red tablecloths, a roaring fire and
holiday music made the entire scene perfect. Typical Marty. Naturally, with him
on my mind, he was the first person I saw when I walked in.
“Marty! Merry Christmas!” I said a little too enthusiastically as
I hugged him.
“Merry Christmas, Steph.” He said with reservation. His brows pulled
together, “You drive here?” I didn’t want Marty’s avuncular side. I didn’t know
what I wanted, but being judged wasn’t on the list. I just shook my head.
“Taxi.”
He immediately relaxed.
“Where’s the bar?” I asked, which made him stiffen again.
“You wanna eat something first?”
I tried to laugh it off, “Awww, come on Marty, now where’s the fun in
that?” With that, I walked away. I didn’t need a lecture and I didn’t want to
piss off my boss any more than I already might have, so I strode confidently to
the bar and proceeded to drink way more than I should have. It was the first
time in years that I’d done that, but I didn’t care. After so much shit I just
wanted to be numb and feel nothing. I wanted to forget. That’s what I had with
Brad. We helped each other forget. And now I wanted to try to forget him too.
Throughout the night I could feel Marty’s watchful eyes on me. I didn’t
get out of control, but I was laughing and talking more with my coworkers than
I ever had. I danced with Tom which, as drunk as I was, I had a feeling was the
highlight of his evening. We even dirty danced a little. I figured, what the
hell, give the poor guy a thrill.
By the end of the night, I’m not sure how many vodkas I’d had, but I
was wasted. I was slurring my words, badly. But most everyone else was also
pretty far gone, and I just couldn’t care. As the crowd thinned out, Marty came
over. I hadn’t talked with him at all, but saw him watching me whenever I
looked over to him.
“Can I give you a ride home?”
I giggled at nothing and grinned at him. “Sure!”
He clenched his jaw, making me regret accepting for a second, but it
was late and I didn’t want to deal with calling a cab. After we said goodbye to
everyone else, I followed him out to his car.
“You know what, Marty. You’re the best boss, ever. And I’m not just
saying that ‘cause I’m drunk. You are.” I hiccupped. “You really are.”
“Thanks, Steph.” He seemed unconvinced.
“No, really! Plus, you’ve got that dimple. Oh my God, do you know how
cute that dimple is? Seriously!” Something about that made me giggle for
minutes. Each time I tried to stop, I’d start up again.
The rest of the ride was a blur, and I mostly heard ringing in my ears.
When we finally got to my house, Marty walked me to the door, which I thought
meant he was going to kiss me. I licked my lips and leaned in. Instead of
leaning towards me, he held up his hand and leaned back. “Whoa, Steph.”
Being rebuffed wasn’t bad enough. In my heels, I stumbled and almost
fell into him, but grabbed the doorjamb just in time. My face was tingling from
all the alcohol, but it didn’t prevent me from feeling the warmth in my cheeks.
I was so embarrassed.
“I thought you liked me.” I slurred.
“I do like you. But I’m your boss.”
“So if you weren’t my boss you’d kiss me?”
Marty clenched his jaw, “Stephanie, you’re drunk.” He sounded so
disgusted with me. I was batting a thousand.
“I just can’t win, can I? I came to your party, your damn holiday party
to be who you wanted me to be! I talked with people! You’re always on me about
sharing and not keeping everything in, so I talked and laughed with my
coworkers! I thought you’d be happy!”
Marty just shook his head. “Get some rest. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
****
I thought I’d hit rock bottom many years earlier, but apparently I
hadn’t. Making a sloppy, drunk pass at my boss had to take the cake. As drunk
as I’d been, I still woke up before dawn, took care of my responsibilities and
forced myself to get into the office early so that I could at least face Marty
in private. I was surprised he was there when I got in. I timidly knocked on
his doorframe and knew my face was bright red when he acknowledged me and waved
me in, but I hung back only a foot inside.
“Marty, I don’t even know how to tell you how sorry I am about last
night.”
“It happens.”
This was not the sweet Marty I’d been getting to know, which just made
me feel that much worse. I shook my head. “You don’t have to be nice to me. I
know I fucked up. Big time.”
“Well, making a pass at the boss at the company party probably isn’t
the best of moves.” He said flatly.
“Oh, God, when you say it out loud it makes it a thousand times worse!
I am so sorry and so embarrassed! It’s just, you’re so nice to me. I guess I
misread the signals. I’m so mortified.” I turned to go.
“Steph, stop beating yourself up. You didn’t misread anything.”
That stopped me in my tracks. I fidgeted with the locket that was still
around my neck suddenly feeling guilty, like I was somehow betraying Brad of
all people. I turned back to face Marty.
“But I’m your boss. And you’re going through a hell of a time. And you
had a little too much to drink. Nothing happened other than flattering me.”
“You were flattered by the drunk girl?”
He smiled. “So you don’t find my dimple irresistible?”
I put my hands over my mouth. “Oh my God, I did say that, didn’t I? Oh
Jesus.”
“Look, Steph, don’t worry about it. Nothing happened and no one
knows about anything. A tree may have fallen in the forest, but no one heard it
except you and me.”
He was letting me off easy, so I took my out. “Ok, thanks, Marty.
You’re a good man.”
“I’m not so sure about that.” It wasn’t just the look in his eyes that
made me flinch when he said this, it was the way his voice seemed deeper than
ever before that made me wonder just what exactly he meant. Still, he was good
to me.
“I am. I’ve met a lot who aren’t. And you are. Trust me.”
He took that in, and I wondered if I’d said too much, though after the
night before, I’d already crossed a line.
****
I tried not to parse his words. It didn’t matter what he said. He was
my boss and I liked my job and I’d already crossed a line with Brad. I didn’t
need to cross another one with Marty. I was focused on work. Period. Until my
phone buzzed.
Date 32?
My head almost exploded. I didn’t know what games he was playing but I
was starting to think that whatever they were, and whatever the prize, I
couldn’t possibly compete.
No
.
No?
I thought I’d throw a line back at him that he was so fond of using
with me.
Did I stutter?
Please. I need to see you. I miss you.
I didn’t reply to that. I didn’t trust myself. I set my phone aside and
stared at my computer screen. And then the fucker called me. I answered without
saying a word.