Authors: Debra Doxer
“Bryn isn’t unattractive,” I argue,
wondering why I ‘m defending her.
“Why did Katie get divorced?”
Jonathan asks.
“Her husband left her for someone
else.”
“Oh boy,” he replies.
“Maybe she purposely finds men who
can’t be faithful. Maybe she’s got some hang ups,” Laura suggests.
“Maybe she’s easy prey, so
trusting and optimistic all the time. She’s easily taken advantage of,” I say.
“Do you want me to go with you?”
Laura offers.
“Thanks. But Katie doesn’t know you
that well. I doubt she’ll appreciate an audience. I appreciate the offer
though.”
“Well girls, I’m beat.” The
couch cushions lift as Jonathan stands. “You’ve got a full plate these days,
Andy. If you need any more advice, my door is always open.”
“Thank you sensei,” I respond
solemnly.
“Brat,” he teases, chucking me
under the chin and bidding us good night. He then retreats into the bedroom.
I stand, gather our empty ice cream
bowls, and carry them to the sink which overflows with dirty dishes. After
checking that the dishwasher still has room, I start rinsing.
“What are you doing?” Laura comes
up beside me, her weary eyes on the dish pile.
“It will take ten minutes, tops.”
She smiles gratefully, picking up a
dishcloth to help dry the washed overflow once the dishwasher is full.
“I’m really sorry about your date,”
she says later, standing by the door to see me out. “You’ll meet someone great
soon. I know it.”
I smile at her, wondering what it
must feel like to know you never have to date again, to know that you have found
your soul mate, and you are about to commit yourself to him for life.
Once I’m back in the car, I realize
that my cell phone is emitting a quiet beep, indicating that I have a message. I
dial into my voicemail and hear Ryan Miller’s voice. He apologizes for not
calling me sooner in the week, and then he asks if I want to drive down to the
beach with him on Saturday. But my Saturday has already been booked for bathing
suits and bad news. I’ll have to call him back and try to reschedule. I
wouldn’t mind a nice relaxing day on the beach. Because my expectations for
dates are so low now, I don’t even panic at the thought of him seeing me in a
bathing suit. I hope Sunday will work for him. This is the second Saturday
invitation from him I’ll be turning down. His call also reminds me that I’ve
been so distracted I haven’t scheduled the repair work on my car yet. I make a
mental note to do that next week.
When I park and get out of the car,
my heart sinks as I hear Tiger mewling from inside the house. I unlock the door
and have barely pushed it open when he squeezes his head out to peer up at me.
“Hey buddy,” I coo, trying to get inside without letting him out. Once I’ve
achieved that, he stretches himself up, resting his paws on my knees. Then he
launches himself upward, digging into my clothes as he tries to claw his way up
my body. Dropping my purse, I grab at him, dislodging his claws from my shirt
and turning him in my arms. “What are you doing?” I ask, looking down at him in
my arms. He blinks at me and begins purring.
I put Tiger down and go about
refreshing his water bowl and refilling his food dish. He follows me closely,
wanting to look at and smell everything I’m touching. As I walk around closing
the window shades for the evening with Tiger trailing behind me, evidence of
his long solitary day meets me throughout the condo. Pillows from the couch are
scattered on the floor. I replace them. Some notepaper I had sitting by the
phone is now shredded and scattered about nearby. I pick up the pieces and
throw them away. At least he found ways to occupy himself.
I spend some time playing with
Tiger, eschewing my guilt for having left him alone so much. Hiding behind
furniture, I wait to be leapt upon. Then I throw the small rubber ball up and
down the stairs watching as he races after it. I’m far more tired than he is by
the end of our playtime. But thankfully, we both fall into bed and drift right
off to sleep.
“Early this morning,” Joan
comments. I smile at her and head to my cubicle. It’s Friday, and for a change
I’m not glad about it. Tomorrow is the day I’m dreading. Tomorrow I will tell
Katie that her fiancé is not exactly who she thinks he is.
I spend the morning hoping Katie
will cancel. When I run into Karthik in the hallway later in the afternoon, I
take the opportunity to ask him how the meeting with Tom went. I have heard
from Rob that it was supposed to have occurred yesterday.
“It got cancelled,” he tells me.
“All future product planning is on hold.”
“What?” I ask. This is news to me.
He nods in confirmation.
“Everything already scheduled for this quarter and next is still on track, but
beyond that.” He shrugs.
“So, this means that you get to
keep working on only the features you indicated and not that crazy list Rob
had.”
“Yeah, I guess it does.”
His lack of triumph worries me.
“What do you think of the buyout?” I ask, stopping him before he can continue
down the hallway.
He thinks for a moment before
responding, which I appreciate. I’m half expecting a non-committal canned
answer. “I think the fact that they want to put long range plans on hold means
that they want to change or stop those plans. That may be good or bad or
neutral for us.”
“But you suspect it’s bad?”
“I think it will probably be bad
for some groups here. But there’s no way to know which ones at this point.”
I chew my lip, agreeing with his
logic.
“Don’t worry Andrea,” he reassures
me. “No need worrying when we don’t know if there’s anything to worry about.
Besides, you’re very good at your job. You’ll be fine whether you stay here or
decide to bestow your talents upon another company.”
“Thanks,” I say, worried now
anyway. “You, too.”
I go searching for Rob. I have been
avoiding him because I heard there had been quite a cat fight on the latest
episode of
The Bachelor,
and the last thing I want to discuss with Rob
is cat fights. But I have been hiding in vain, it seems. His darkened office
and closed door indicate that he isn’t in today. I will have to table my blossoming
anxiety until Monday.
In the meantime, I go back to my
desk, locate the wrinkled paper in my bag with Ryan’s number on it, and return
his call.
“Hey Andrea,” he answers, sounding
a bit distracted.
“Is this a bad time?”
“No, just hold on a second, okay?”
“Okay.”
I wait, adjusting the volume up on
my streaming music. “We Come Running”
by Youngblood Hawk is playing.
“Sorry about that,” Ryan says into
my ear, startling me. “You still there?”
“I’m here.”
“We’re in the middle of another
mini-crisis.”
“I’m sorry. It’s no problem to call
back at a better time,” I offer. I can hear voices in the background. It sounds
like people arguing.
He laughs. “Actually, this is a
good time. We just landed a second customer.”
“Hey! That’s great.”
“Yeah, but now we’re under the gun
to deliver what they want. We really need to hire more people.”
“Maybe this will help you get your
funding.”
“I hope so.”
Suddenly, there is static on the
line and a muffled scraping noise. “Ryan?”
“Sorry, I’m just stepping out into
the hallway where it’s quieter. Okay, that’s better. So, how are you?”
“I’m fine,” I mutter, restraining a
sigh. It’s a loaded question at the moment.
“You sure?” he asks, picking up on
my less than enthusiastic response.
For some reason, I want to tell him
about my job and about Katie, but of course I don’t. I hardly know him. “I
really am fine. I’ve just got a lot going on. But I’m calling to let you know
that I got your message and your plan sounds great. Only, I’m wondering if we
could do it on Sunday instead. I’m afraid I can’t make it on Saturday.”
“Oh,” he says. Then there’s
silence.
“Or maybe we could do something
next week if Sunday isn’t good?” I add quickly.
“No. Sunday works,” he responds
after a brief hesitation.
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, I’m sure. Looks like I’ll
need to work at least part of the weekend anyway. So, I might as well get it
out of the way tomorrow and be able to have Sunday off.”
I give Ryan directions to my
townhouse and we arrange a time for him to pick me up on Sunday morning. The
plan is to drive down to Duxbury, a town on the south shore known for its
beautiful beaches. I reason that if Ryan is picking me up, he can’t just leave
me in Duxbury to find my own way home if he isn’t really interested. Right? I
smile to myself. I certainly hope not. I go online and check the weather for
Sunday. There’s a graphic of a bright yellow sun with ninety degrees stamped
over it. Perfect beach weather.
Next, I compose an email to the job
recruiter who found me my position at BTS Systems. I continue to receive
holiday cards from her, so I know she’s still in business. In my email, I
explain the situation and attach my updated resumé.
With that done, I return to working
on my white papers. Now that I know there is no additional work coming in due
to the cancellation of all future projects, I no longer feel pressed to get the
work done immediately, and my freed up mind easily wanders. How will I
break the news to Katie? When you have to get a tooth pulled, you want it
yanked out quickly. Playing with it first, or trying to loosen it, is just
torture. I’ve never delivered bad news like this to anyone. I really have no
idea how to do it.
I sleep badly that night, getting
tangled in my sheets and listening as the air conditioning kicks on and off. I
finally give up around five in the morning, rising just after the sun, deciding
to get up and make coffee--lots of coffee. I kill time by watching the morning
news programs and tidying up unnecessarily. I’m meeting Katie at Macy’s at
eleven. The plan is to shop first and then go for lunch.
I arrive early and jittery from
caffeine-enhanced nerves. Macy’s is in the mall, which is crowded with shoppers
on this stifling summer morning. If you aren’t going to the beach, the mall is
as good a place as any to keep cool. It’s a bustling center of commerce. Having
been renovated about five years ago, it now contains three shopping levels,
with an interior brightened by sunlight streaming in through skylights that
line the ceiling. I sit down on a bench by the entrance of Macy’s to wait.
I spot Katie then, walking briskly
in my direction. Her blonde hair, thin frame, and long legs cause many a
head to turn and watch as she moves toward me.
Katie’s pensive expression clears
when she spots me. She tosses a quick wave in my direction and hurries her
step. “Hey Andy,” she says a bit breathlessly. “Can you believe how hot it is
today?”
“Good day for shopping inside,” I
answer, smiling and standing.
As we enter the store and head for
the swimsuit department, I debrief her on all my news. I am happily distracted
with my own tales of woe, wondering when the right moment to discuss hers will
come. Her reactions come intermittently as we poke through racks of suits.
“What are we looking for exactly?”
I finally ask.
“I need a swimsuit that has a
little more coverage than what I usually wear. Nothing too expensive though.”
“Easier said than done,” I comment,
peering around.
“I know, seriously,” she agrees,
holding up a string bikini that hardly uses enough material to cost over a
hundred dollars.
“Why do you need a new swimsuit
with more coverage?” I ask.
“When I’m around Mike’s kids, I
don’t want everything on display, you know?”
I shrug at her. Kids aren’t really
my area of expertise.
“I’m going to try this one,” she says,
holding up a solid black tankini suit.
A few minutes later I hear Katie
call my name from the dressing room. I enter the narrow space lined with tiny
rooms and lit by buzzing fluorescents. Katie’s head pokes out from behind one
of the dressing room doors. She holds the swimsuit out to me. “Can you see if
they have this one in the next size up?”
“Is this one your usual size?”
She nods her as her brow furrows.
I come back with the larger size,
hand it to her, and decide to lean against the wall and wait in case she needs
me again.
“This one is much better,”
she declares from the other side of the door. I wait while she changes
out of the swimsuit and purchases it.
“All set,” she says, walking toward
me with her red shopping bag. “Do you need anything, or should we go to lunch?”
“I vote for lunch.”
“Where would you like to go?” she
asks, glancing back at me over her shoulder. “And don’t say the food court.”
We settle on a bar and grill
restaurant just down the road from the mall. The dining room is barely half
full. Dark wood paneling on the walls and brown hardwood floors give the place
a cave-like feel. We decide on salads for lunch. It’s too warm out for hot
food.
I decide to start by trying
to feel her out a bit. She’s in a strange, distant kind of mood. “Did you enact
the plan to let Mike pick the wedding date?” I finally ask.
She nods, taking a sip of her ice
water.
“Really?” I reply, surprised she
didn’t bring it up right away. “What happened?”
“Nothing.” She shrugs one shoulder.
“He thanked me for understanding and told me he would get back to me on it.”
“And?”
“And he hasn’t yet.”
“Did you give him a deadline?”
She shakes her head.
“Wasn’t that part of the plan? The
most crucial part?”
“I don’t want to give him a
deadline.” Katie takes a deep breath and peers around the room before her eyes
come to rest on mine. “I think I’ve been too pushy about setting a date. His
first marriage didn’t go so well. I need to be more understanding if he’s
having trouble with the idea of getting married again.”