Insipid

by Christine Brae

  “Tell them to suck shit,” I say matter-of-factly.

  “There you go, the goddess has spoken.” Nick leans back in smug affirmation. “There’s no gray with this woman. She’s black and white. I love it.”

  The meeting continues for another thirty minutes. I catch Leya staring at me. I nod my head at my friend and smile weakly as I adjust my eyeglasses to shield myself from her glare. She knows that the glasses are there for a reason. I never wear them except when there’s an on screen presentation. Or when I’m trying to hide my eyes as a way of protecting my secrets from the world. As the meeting comes to an end, she lifts her right hand to stop me from getting up. “Stay a few minutes, Jade. I need to run something by you.”

  Everyone nods and leaves the room. Leya gets up to shut the door.

  “Jesus. Why can’t people make these decisions on their own? He’s a VP, for heaven’s sake, and he has to wait for me to tell him what to do?” I twirl around in the chair, trying to deflect her serious demeanor.

  “He’s not the only one who can’t make a decision. Jade, you’ve got to stop doing this to yourself.”

  I blink my eyes under the false pretense of confusion about what she had just said. “What?”

  “You look like crap.” This woman. She doesn’t quit.

  I glare at her and roll my eyes, still without saying a word.

  “Well, okay. You’re still sickeningly gorgeous, but your eyes… they look like marshmallows.”

  Still no reaction, not a single acknowledgment from me.

  “Oh, Leya. I’ve never felt like this before. At my age, who would have known that I would feel like I did again with…” I stop myself. That was a lifetime ago. A time and a place long forgotten.

  “When you told me that it was going to be fine in a month, what did I tell you? When you swore it was going to be just a fling, what did I say?”

  “That it’s not that straightforward,” I admit, my voice breaking in a choked whisper.

  “Why are you fighting it?”

  “Because he can’t want someone like me.”

  “And what exactly is someone like you?”

  “A lifeless shell of nothing. My heart can’t take it, Ley. I just can’t do this anymore.”

  “Do you know that people actually die of a broken heart? Have you seen yourself in the mirror lately? Your pants are falling off; you’ve lost more weight.”

  “I’m working out. I’m doing the half marathon in March.”

  “Bullshit.” She bends down to fish into her purse and hands me a small black phone. I shake my head and squint my eyes impatiently, confused about her latest gesture. “It’s an unmarked phone registered to my daughter. Use it. Call him. Tell him what’s going on. Put some context behind this. You can’t just cut it off without speaking to him about all this shit.”

  Her words release all my anxieties of the past few months. I start to cry. She rushes over to hold me. I don’t try to speak, I just let my tears flow because I know that she understands. She has been here for all this. She knows.

  Once she loosens her hold on me, I pull a Kleenex from her filing cabinet, wipe my tears, and press the phone close to my heart. “Thank you,” I whisper as I turn on my heels and head back to my office.

  I PACE BACK and forth before huddling in my favorite spot in the office, on the floor by the corner window, staring out at the cloudy winter sky. My hands are shaking as I manually dial his number into Leya’s phone.

  “Martinez,” he huffs hurriedly after the third ring.

  “Luke! It’s me.”

  “Oh my God, Jade! Where are you? Whose phone is this?”

  “Luke, can you talk? I just wanted to explain what happened before the holidays.” I hear voices in the background.

  “I’m at a party right now but I can leave and call you right back. Give me fifteen minutes.”

  He’s at a party.

  “No, let me call you again. How about tomorrow? Just text this number to let me know when you have time to talk.”

  “Please, Jade. I want to talk to you. Can you not give me an hour to just get situated and then we can talk?”

  I know he’s with someone because there’s a woman’s voice in the background. I think she’s asking him who it is. “No, let’s talk tomorrow. Just text me.”

  I hang up and immediately call Leya to ask her if I can keep the phone overnight.

  “Of course,” she says. “Keep it for as long as you need to. Just don’t prolong having that conversation with him.”

  ON THE TRAIN on my way in to work the next day, he texts me.

  Unknown Number: Hi. Can you call me?

  Jade: When?

  Unknown Number: Now.

  Jade: On the train, give me an hour?

  Unknown Number: Okay.

  Forty-five minutes later, I lock the door of my office and quickly dial his number.

  “Jade! What’s going on?”

  “Hi. The day that I arrived from vacation, Warren called me into his office to tell me that you told someone about us. Whom did you speak to about this, Lucas? Why would you do that?”

  “I swear, I didn’t say anything! I mentioned to a friend of mine that I saw you again briefly while I was in Chicago. This friend has nothing to do with work at all. Fuck!”

  “Well, whatever. It got to Warren and the rest of the executives. Listen, you have to delete all of our texts. I’m really worried about them, especially the pictures, Luke.”

  “You didn’t send me anything inappropriate.”

  “No, but I think pictures of me shopping will show that we have more than a casual friendship.”

  “Shit! I’m just so pissed right now. No one has a right to tell us who we can be friends with.”

  “You yourself said that this could ruin everything. I really just wanted to explain to you why I haven’t been taking any of your calls. Once we end this one, I’m going to give this phone back to my friend. I won’t be contacting you anymore, so I wanted to let you know why.”

  “I’m sending you a fucking phone tomorrow. This has gone too far. To hell with the merger. It’s my money, my choice.”

  “Lucas, you don’t know what you’re saying. Let’s just keep it quiet for a few more weeks,” I plead with him.

  His tone changes, his mood suddenly lightens up. “How have you been, Jade? God, I missed your voice.”

  “I’ve been well, can’t complain. And you?”

  “I just got back from two weeks in Mexico.”

  “Oh, for work?”

  “Well, yes and no. One week for work and the other sort of a mini vacation.”

  “Who’d you go with? Was it fun?”

  “I went with a friend.”

  “Hmm. A woman friend?” I knew what he was going to say next. And yet, I wanted to hear it. I prayed he would finish me off. It’s the only way for me to truly stay away. Stop the bleeding. Just bludgeon me with one swift blow and get it over with.

  “Yes. Do you remember Cristina? I think I mentioned her to you once.”

  “The one you were engaged to?”

  “Yes.” Awkward silence. “She had a modeling assignment close to where I was going, so we decided to travel together. What about you, Jade? What’s going on with you? Are you dating? Are you at least trying to take some time outside of work?”

  “Oh, yes. I actually met someone. It’s new, but I’m enjoying his company a lot,” I lie. I refuse to be the only one with no life to speak of.

  “That’s great, Jade! Keep me posted, okay?”

  “I will. And hey, since we’re both trying to start up our personal lives, no need to send me that phone. We’ll just catch up whenever, okay? Take care of you yourself, Lucas. And I hope we see each other again sometime.”

  “Jade—”

  I hang up as I hear him say my name. I bury my face in my hands and cry.

  What is this? What’s happening to me? Get a grip, Jade. I roughly wipe my tears with the back of my hands. Round and round I go
in this endless loop of fighting and giving in. Why do I even take his calls? He’s there, I’m here. What is the point of all this?

  THE WINTER THAT lasted forever is finally over, and I’m enjoying the crisp spring air while I make my way into the office on a Saturday morning. I figure I’ll get a few hours in for a project that’s due on Tuesday of the next week. The executive floor is empty save for a cleaning lady who is making the rounds and cleaning up after the happy hour that apparently occurred last night. I’m wearing jeans and Converse sneakers, my hair is in a bun, and not a trace of makeup is on my face. I quickly rush down the hall, rummaging inside my bag, as usual, to retrieve my keys. I literally walk into someone. Only that someone is someone I didn’t want to see.

  “Jade!” he exclaims as my forehead smacks right into his chest.

  “Lucas? What are you doing here?” I ask, smoothing my fingers over my hair and suddenly conscious of the holes in my jeans. His hair has grown out, dark curls above his eyebrows and over his ears. I can’t see the side of his face—it’s covered in a neatly groomed beard.

  “I was about to ask you the same thing. Thank God you’re in town.” He grins from ear to ear. “I’m here to sign the merger papers. My flight was delayed yesterday and I just arrived an hour ago. Warren was supposed—”

  We hear the sound of the sliding doors as Warren shuffles in. “There you both are. Sorry I’m a few minutes late. Why don’t we all step into my office?”

  “Warren, I’m here to finish work on the Almeda project. I don’t have to be present for the signing. As long as you’re comfortable with obtaining all the signatures, we should be good.”

  “No, Jade, I’m glad you’re here. Let’s get Martinez the signing pen so he can put this baby to rest.” His expression makes me feel like he knows more than he’s letting on. His kind heart has always looked out for my best interests and I wonder whether he’s doing the same now.

  We both walk into Warren’s office and stand awkwardly to the side, waiting for him to unpack his briefcase and furnish Lucas with the pile of papers to sign. Lucas watches me as I stare out the window. I don’t turn my head in his direction. I can feel the heat of his glare on my cheeks.

  “Ah, here they are. Lucas, sign three copies, all pages, and date the last one.”

  Lucas follows his instructions. No one says a word. I watch the smooth glide of his fingers as he signs the documents. I think about that one day six months ago when this all started. How it took weeks for the proposal to be drafted and approved but months to negotiate the terms of the merger.

  Once he’s done, he hands the pen over to me. It’s the same kind of pen… My mind takes me elsewhere and I forcefully will it to come back.

  “Now your turn,” he dares me, deliberately stroking the pen with his fingers. As I lean down to cosign the same pages, I catch him discretely typing a message on his phone.

  007: It’s killing me, standing this close to you without being able to touch you.

  My phone buzzes softly as soon as I lay the pen on the table. For a transaction that took months to accomplish, the conclusion turns out to be pretty uneventful. Not much unlike the end for Lucas and me.

  “That’s it, folks. The deed of sale is done. Lucas, we’ll send you three executed originals in the next day or so. Both of you are, well, free to go.” Warren emphasizes the word free as he swats his hand in the air to dismiss us.

  I don’t move. Lucas doesn’t either. He’s waiting for me to leave Warren’s office so he can follow me out. He looks at me with obvious disdain, wondering why I remain standing there.

  “It was nice to see you again, Lucas.” I extend my hand out to shake his. “I need to catch Warren for a few more minutes with questions about my project. Have a safe trip home.”

  Warren swings his head from side to side, glancing at him and then at me. Lucas reacts initially with a slight shaking of his head and a bewildered look on his face, but once again, his business side takes over and he plays along so glibly.

  “Thank you for everything, Jade. Good luck with all of your future endeavors.”

  My heart breaks at the finality of his words. He walks out the door without a sound and I’m left trying to find the perfect excuse to remain in Warren’s office.

  But not before he takes the pen with him.

  “What was that about?” Warren asks, his face enveloped in worry.

  “What? The pen?” I spit out distractedly.

  “What pen? No! I want to know if you’re okay,” he restates.

  I shrug my shoulders casually, trying to expel the concern on his face. “Yeah, I didn’t want to prolong the poor guy’s stress. At least it’s over now and he can stop having to travel here for these day trips.” I laugh in my attempt to lighten up the conversation. “Thanks so much for managing through the earlier fiasco, Warren. I truly appreciate it.”

  “Anytime, Jade. You did a wonderful job with the proposal. This is just another successful project under your belt. You should be proud of yourself. Now, about Martinez. I would still suggest that you stay away from him. I don’t trust the guy. I think his letting people know about your friendship was an underhanded move on his part. There are users in this world, and I think he’s definitely one of them.”

  I don’t say a word. I feel dishonest and hypocritical. I had played just as large a role in our deception and it’s never going to be the same after this. The image of honesty and integrity that I had built over the years was all a farce. Everything catches up with you eventually; the truth always wins out. And when it does, I’m going to have to own it. Every little fractured piece of it.

  MP: I wasn’t able to tease you about your hair.

  I RUN DOWN the building steps to catch a cab four hours after I see him in Warren’s office. As I stand on the corner with my hand up in the air, I’m caught unaware when he wraps his arms around me from behind. In his right hand is a bag of Cheetos and his left hand holds two bottles of Coke by their necks.

  “Come sit with me,” he whispers into my shoulder as he kisses it, “for old times’ sake.”

  I can’t help but smile and nod my head. He leads me down the street away from the building and across the bridge. We find some steps to park ourselves for a few minutes. The March air is still chilly but tolerable.

  “I’m sorry about what happened this morning,” I say, gently rubbing his arm with my fingers.

  “I understand what you’re doing. I don’t blame you. I’ve been a total shit.”

  We tear open the bag of chips and devour what’s inside it for a few minutes. I laugh at his words. His Spanish accent makes it sound like “sheet.” He digs his fingers into his hair and I gently reach out to smooth the unruly strands that have just been mussed up.

  “Long, no? I haven’t had a haircut in two months.”

  “It looks good,” I assure him tenderly. “When do you leave?”

  “I’m taking the midnight flight out. I have to be in Seoul by tomorrow.”

  “Ah. Ever the jetsetter.” I absentmindedly take a swig of my Coke.

  “Did you really mean what you said in there, Jade? Is it over between us?”

  “What does that even mean, Luke? What do we have?”

  “Well, now that the merger is complete, can we take time to figure that out?”

  “How?” I react emphatically. “You’re only here for a few hours at a time.”

  He doesn’t answer. I know that he agrees with me. “There’s just so much going on.”

  I give him an out. I know that he needs this. Surprisingly I feel stronger, more resolved. “I know. And I completely understand. Listen, I really value our friendship. I don’t want to lose you as a friend. Can we keep it this way for now until things settle down? I can’t give you anything more at this point. Not this way.”

  He doesn’t protest. Instead, he lets out a deep sigh. “I just don’t want to lose our connection. If you promise me that we’ll still talk as often as we can, I’m going to try to be okay wi
th that.”

  “I promise,” I nudge him warmly, savoring the closeness of that instant in secret. “You’re my forever Skype buddy.”

  He pulls me tightly in a warm embrace. My chest is pressed against his and my head settles in the crook of his neck. And although my eyes are closed, I hear every word he whispers. “That will have to be good enough for me.” He bends his head down and kisses my forehead. “For now.”

  “CAUTION, THE DOORS are about to close.”

  The automated announcement as the train stops at every station rings in my ear. I say it in my sleep, I could hear it in my head. All day. Every day. Sunlight beams through the train windows as I silently stare out, deep in prayer. For the past two years, this has become my daily routine. Get on the train, check work email, pray the rosary. A few minutes of meditation to ask for forgiveness, to pray for my family and for my life. Fifteen minutes later and the best part of my morning will begin. Granted, it lasts for a mere thirty minutes, but that brief catnap with my eyes closed and my thoughts clear makes the 75 minute commute so well worth it. How funny is it that I wake up in the morning only to look forward to going back to sleep on the train?

  Closing Doors. Is that what my life has been about? Is that why I am now doing the complete opposite? Opening them. Rebelling against life’s best laid plans? Living with the need to break free? But what is it that I’m running away from? What am I searching for?

  I glance around the train at the people sitting close to me. Like me, they are all business people, familiar faces, commuting with me day in and day out. From experience, I could clearly gauge the amount of success they’ve had in their careers. By their purses. The lady with the fake leather bag, falling apart, ripping at the seams, loose threads hanging from end to end—secretary, perhaps? Is her salary even worth this commute? The lady with the latest Coach purse, no rips, no torn seams, but old and weathered shoes. Mid-level management for sure. Struggling, but smart and ambitious. She might get there when she becomes my age. And then there are only a handful of women just like me. Impeccably dressed from head to toe with a matching high end luxury brand computer bag and handbag. Burberry coat, rings on their fingers. Executive level women who don’t take advantage of the parking perk at work. Women who love the commute because it gives them the time to read, to write, to think. To escape. Sitting among a group of strangers makes me feel inconspicuous. Everyone has their sins too, I bet. Were mine worse than theirs? Did they live their life in full color? How can I get in on that life?