“I’m actually supposed to.… Anyway, let’s … ah, I’ll talk to you on Monday. Cool? I feel like we haven’t had a real conversation in weeks, man. Later.”
Tom deleted the message and stared at the time. Almost six thirty. He could easily shower, change into a clean suit, and grab his train, make a grand reentrance in the office. He couldn’t remember any details about the Bessecker account, but that wasn’t unusual anymore: his memory had developed huge, gaping holes. He vacillated wildly between feeling completely in control and having the sense that he was an absolute stranger in his own skin, viewing not only events but also his actions through a distant and distorted prism. He knew that he was tilting toward chaos but had a hard time caring.
He dragged himself to his feet and stood still for several long minutes, paralyzed by indecision. Finally, he placed the phone back on the counter, tightened and straightened his tie, and took a deep breath. He looked at the front door, which seemed impossibly far away through the rest of the kitchen and the dining room. Then he walked down the basement stairs without hesitation, closing the door behind him, easily avoiding the broken step without even bothering to turn on the old, dangling, naked lightbulb.
* * *
“Thanks for coming, Kev.”
Jenny hugged Kevin and held on for what felt like dear life. If he was uncomfortable, he gave no sign of it, wrapping his arms around her firmly and waiting until she was ready to disengage.
At last, she did, displaying an embarrassed smile. “Sorry,” she muttered.
“Are you kidding me? I love hugs. I come from a family of huggers. None of that half-assed, pat-on-the-back stuff.”
Jenny laughed as the maître d’ beckoned them forward.
Kevin had suggested Indian, and Jenny jumped at the suggestion. Tom had once gotten sick after eating that cuisine, food poisoning he claimed, and had categorically refused to ever try it again.
It smelled amazing in the restaurant. Jenny hadn’t been eating well lately, even though she knew it wasn’t good for her or the baby. Victoria kept making incredible meals or bringing home super-expensive takeout in an attempt to seduce Jenny into eating more. She always took a few bites to appease her sister, but the food sat like a rock in her stomach. She actually felt more nauseated lately than she had during her first trimester. And the hallucinations were getting worse.
A young waiter filled their water glasses. Kevin handed Jenny a menu and said, “What do you usually get at Indian restaurants?”
Jenny stared at the front of the menu, which had the place’s name and logo emblazoned on it. She was too overwhelmed even to open it, felt her eyes glazing over. “I’m … not sure.”
Glancing up, she could read the sympathy on Kevin’s face. She knew that he had never seen her like this before.
“Do you … want me to order for us? I come here all the time.”
“Yes, please,” she answered. “I’m so distracted lately.”
Kevin smiled and handed his menu to the waiter, saying, “We’re ready to order.” The young man scrambled to get his pen and notebook while fumbling to tuck the menu under his arm. Jenny smiled at the kid’s nervousness and saw Kevin smile as well.
“Okay,” the waiter said, staring at Kevin with anticipation, pen at the ready.
“We’ll take an order of samosas, one chicken tikka masala, and one saag paneer. Plus, naan. Lots of naan. Let the naan flow free.”
“And a beer, please,” Jenny almost whispered, sheepishly, handing over her menu.
Kevin raised an eyebrow at her, then smiled and said, “Make that two. That awesome Indian beer you have. Please.”
The waiter nodded and walked away, toward the kitchen.
“I read that it’s okay,” Jenny blurted. “The beer, I mean. As long as I don’t overdo it. In case you were wondering.”
“I wasn’t judging you,” Kevin said, holding up his hands, palms out. “I’m glad I had an excuse to order one myself.”
Jenny smiled. “Thanks for meeting me during your lunch hour. For everything.”
“You’re welcome, but I haven’t really done anything. I’m just worried about you. How are you feeling?”
“Oh, you know, great, except for the horrible heartburn, the intense back pain … and let’s not forget the hemorrhoids.”
Kevin’s forehead wrinkled in surprise.
“Oh my God, Kevin, I’m so sorry. That took TMI to a whole new level. Ugh, I’m so tired, I don’t even know what I’m saying sometimes.”
“Jenny, it’s all good. I’m the oldest of four kids and am helping take care of my elderly grandparents. I think I’ve pretty much seen it all. You caught me off guard, that’s all.” He took a sip of water, and then a flash of realization washed over his face. “Oh shit, wait. Heartburn? Indian food is probably the worst thing for that. Why don’t we go somewhere else?”
Jenny smiled again and reached into her purse. “No, we’re good. I’ve got some of those heartburn pills you take before a meal.” She laughed, unwrapped one, and popped it into her mouth. “Look at me. Am I a proactive mom-to-be or what?”
Silence hung over the table; tears suddenly filled Jenny’s eyes. Kevin offered her a napkin, but she shook her head and wiped the moisture away with a sleeve.
Her face hardened. “I promised myself I wouldn’t cry today. Been doing that too much lately.”
“How’s the gym going?” Kevin asked quickly, clearly uncomfortable.
Jenny knew that he was one of four boys and always struggled when talking, really talking, to women, often masking his own discomfort with charm and confidence.
“Great,” Jenny almost shouted, then blushed slightly. “It’s … just amazing. I figured the further along I got in the pregnancy, the less likely that anyone would want to be trained by me, but it’s totally been the opposite. Word of mouth has been out of control. Mostly women, moms who can’t stand the meatheads at that mega-gym, but also a few men. It’s been such a good distraction from … everything else.”
They both fell silent again, dancing around the one thing they really wanted to talk about. Jenny opened her mouth to broach the subject, but the waiter reappeared, awkwardly carrying a tray. He slid a plate of samosas loudly onto the table, followed by two sweating bottles of beer plus glasses. Jenny thought it was cute how nervous the kid was. It reminded her of being young, when the most ridiculous things seemed insurmountable. She laughed to herself, wishing she still had only those kinds of problems. Thinking of her teen self, she smiled.
“Would you like me to pour the beer for you?” the server asked.
“Nah,” Jenny and Kevin said with the same inflection at the same time. They laughed and clinked their bottles together as the waiter hurried away.
“To your baby,” Kevin said.
“To … my baby,” Jenny echoed quietly.
The beer was ice cold and absolutely delicious. She had to stop herself from chugging the entire thing. Instead, she forked a samosa.
“These look ridiculously good.”
Kevin said, “I could practically live off them,” and put one on his own plate.
Continuing to stall, Jenny said, “How’s it going with … Felicity, was it?”
“She finally told me that she prefers Liss,” he said with a chuckle. “She said she didn’t tell me earlier, because I went on and on during our first date about how cool I thought her name was. It’s actually been … um … weirdly great. Kind of suspiciously good. I think this might be the longest relationship I’ve ever been in.”
“That’s a good thing, right?” Jenny said, biting into the samosa, which tasted as fantastic as it smelled.
“It’s a really good thing. I haven’t had the best track record with women. I’m waiting for Mr. Hyde to come out and ruin everything.” He bit a samosa in half. “Damn, these things are better every time I come here.”
They chewed in silence for a minute.
“So…,” Kevin said.
“Yeah,” Jenny answe
red, knowing time was up. She couldn’t avoid the real reason they were here anymore. “How’s he doing?”
“Umm…,” Kevin said, clearly struggling. “He’s doing really well at work. Shockingly well, actually, considering…”
“Considering what?”
“I mean … obviously, considering what’s going on with you guys. It’s still hard to process what you told me about how he acted at your party. He’s clearly been super-stressed. But it’s more than that. It’s like he only has two modes now: on and off. He’s either on the phone, closing deals with these brand-new companies, or he’s a fricking zombie. He doesn’t talk to me anymore, or to anyone, really. On the phone, he’s super-aggressive with potential clients. I think he’s pissing some of them off, but he’s also somehow logging big deals. He doesn’t even come in every day, but his sales are so fantastic that no one cares. And he’s super-secretive now—won’t share the details of his deals with anyone, not even me. Maybe he thinks I’m going to try to steal his clients? I don’t know.”
“Is he … in danger of being fired?”
“Not at all. Kroll doesn’t give a shit about his behavior or his crazy hours. All he cares about is the bottom line. Dude only asks one question: ‘How much?’ That is literally all he cares about, and with the deals that Tom’s been logging in to the system, well … That’s the good news, I guess?”
“Jesus…,” Jenny muttered.
“I know. I don’t like Kroll, I mean, he’s an asshole, but seeing his personality in light of what’s going on with Tom? The guy could give less than a shit that one of his best employees might be having a nervous breakdown.” He took another bite and chewed for a few moments. “Have you … have you talked to Tom lately?”
Jenny bit down on her lip, staring at the second samosa that she’d deposited onto her plate. Her appetite had vanished.
“Not since the party at our house. I left him a message, but he hasn’t gotten back to me. It’s been so tempting to just walk over there and talk to him, see if he’s doing okay, but I can’t bring myself to do it. I’m still so angry and confused. I don’t know what’s wrong with him. I think it must be drugs or something. It’s the only explanation that makes sense.”
“I’ve thought the same thing, but the way he’s acting … the ‘symptoms’ don’t really fit anything. Maybe coke, but the mood swings seem too abrupt, and he’s never in the bathroom. I mean … literally never. I’ve tried talking to him, but he either ignores me or acts like he doesn’t know me. It’s really frustrating.”
“Tell me about it,” Jenny murmured.
“I’m sorry,” Kevin said.
“Sorry? Kev, you have nothing to apologize for.”
“I’m his best friend! I’ve known him almost his whole life. I should have seen this coming. I shouldn’t have pushed him into this job, I should have listened more when he told me you guys were having a kid, made sure he was okay.…
“I don’t know. I just feel like I totally failed him.”
“Neither of us failed him,” Jenny said. “There’s something else going on. I don’t know what it is, but the Tom who knocked that glass of wine out of my hand, the one who’s ignoring you—that’s not the Tom you grew up with or the one I fell in love with.”
“Yeah. I guess you’re right. I don’t know what to do.”
“Is he in the office today?” Jenny asked nervously. If he was, that meant he was nearby. She missed him so much.
Kevin hesitated and then said, “Yeah. He came in right before I left to meet you.”
“Would you try to talk to him again? Maybe today? And let me know how it goes? If he’s willing, I could have lunch with him tomorrow in Springdale. Or coffee. It doesn’t have to be a big deal. I just want to talk to him. I don’t want to lose him … lose us.”
“Yes,” Kevin said, his face hardening and his eyes getting watery. “Absolutely. I don’t know why I’ve been such a pussy about talking to him about all of this. Uh, sorry.”
Jenny laughed. “It’s okay, Kev. I’ve heard worse. Remember, I used to work for asshole investment bankers.”
Kevin smiled as the waiter appeared and began placing dishes down in front of them. “Our holiday party is this afternoon. I’ll talk to him then, whether he likes it or not.”
Jenny leaned forward and gave him an awkward hug, especially with her stomach jutting into the table and the young waiter recoiling, as if human contact were something he had never witnessed before.
“Thank you,” she whispered, leaning her forehead against his. “I appreciate it so much. And I love you, Kev.”
“I love you, too, Jenny. And I love Tom. I’m gonna fix things between you.”
* * *
The holiday party a year earlier, Kevin’s first, had been a drab affair. A half-assed attempt at lights, a few bottles of wine, a collection of awkward employees eager to get the hell out of there.
This year was different. When Kevin returned to the office after his long lunch with Jenny, he found the lights dimmed and music pumping. A DJ had a light show going, with red, green, and yellow lights streaming into the shadows. There were way more people there than Kevin had expected. He didn’t even know half of them, though some seemed vaguely familiar.
The office looked and felt different; the bass line and the frenetic lights hammered at his brain after the quiet of the restaurant. Talking to Jenny had been nice, almost like hanging out with Tom before everything went sour. He missed his best friend a lot.
Speaking of which, where was Tom?
And had Kroll paid for all this? “Holiday spirit” didn’t really fit in with his MO.
As if summoned by the thought, his boss appeared in front of Kevin, holding two glasses. “Kevin Jenkins!” he shouted, proffering one of them.
“Hey, Pete. This is … wow. Much different than last year.”
“Right?” Kroll said, smiling drunkenly. Kevin had never seen the man have a single drink, let alone enough to get intoxicated. What the hell was going on? “The company across the hall was having their party tonight, too, so they offered to combine them and bring all their stuff over. Including their booze! They’re some hipster sneaker company or something. They jumped at the chance! Jumped! Get it? They’re a sneaker company!”
Kevin nodded. Yeah, he got it.
“I know it’s the season, but … what’s the occasion? You seem pretty … uh … happy,” he said, trying the drink Kroll had handed him. It was some kind of fruity, sugary vodka concoction. Disgusting. He struggled to keep even the first sip down.
“What’s the occasion?” Kroll repeated, slapping Kevin on the back. He put one arm around his taller employee and stretched out the other as if he were showing off a display at a car dealership. Half his drink sloshed onto the floor at the gesture. “Look around you, Jenkins! Sales are up … way up! We are going to have the best year of this company’s existence. And it’s all because of you!”
“Me?”
“Well … not you, exactly. Because of Decker. But you brought him in. He’s a beast. Pisses off more people than he charms. But he won’t take no for an answer, and the deals he’s closing—they’re big.
“Your boy, Decker,” he said, poking a pointy finger into Kevin’s chest, “your boy has turned into the biggest asshole I’ve ever met. But assholes run companies. And assholes love other assholes.” Kroll burst into a sputtering explosion of laughter. Fighting the urge to punch his boss, Kevin swallowed more of the sugary alcohol. It was horrible, but he needed it. He didn’t know how much more of this happy, drunk Kroll he could take.
“I can’t wait for the contracts to start rolling in! They’re taking forever. But Decker said they’re on the way! Then we can really celebrate. Come on!” Kroll said, wrapping his arm around Kevin again.
The office seemed to have grown impossibly large—something about the music and lights, the rearranged desks and discordant laughter elongated the shadows and created a maze. Kevin wished Liss were there. She had told him t
hat she was going to show up at some point, but at that moment he longed for her, strangely afraid he would never see her again. He had finally found the one, and now he was trapped with a sweaty arm on his back, being led into the back of a dark office. Every instinct told him that this was a mistake.
No, that was ridiculous. He shook his head, trying to clear it.
He’d had too much to drink at lunch, and then the horrible concoction that Kroll had given him. He felt shaky. Like when he was young and one or more of his siblings would go missing in a public place and he always felt it was his fault, knew he would be blamed.
Kroll led him away from the party.
“Where are we going?” Kevin said, unsure whether his boss heard him over the din until the man laughed.
“We’re off to see the asshole!” he sang.
Unnerved, Kevin wanted to shake Kroll’s arm off his shoulder and leave. Wanted to find Liss, wherever she was, and take her home and never come back to this place.
A distorted figure came into view in the shadowed near distance. A desk had been moved into the farthest corner of the office, into the darkness. Someone was hunched over it, phone cradled between ear and shoulder, the cord slithering down into the shadows like a parasitic tentacle. Dull light from the computer monitor on the desk washed over the figure, making it look otherworldly, neither dead nor alive.
It was Tom. Or Tom’s shadow. It was hard to tell the difference.
“There’s my asshole!” Kroll shouted.
The figure didn’t move.
“Tom?” Kevin croaked out.
The music and the party fell away behind him. Childhood memories flooded Kevin’s mind. Tom was a year older than him, but they never talked about that, even though it had always bothered Kevin that Tom was a grade ahead of him at school. When Tom moved on to “cooler” social cliques later in high school, Kevin acted like he didn’t mind. But he would cry as softly as he could into his pillow at night, hiding the tears from his grandparents and brothers.
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