“Ferdowsi HVAC.”
“You know it?” she asked, shocked to know her boss was familiar with the company her father built and her brothers inherited. “How?”
“We used to…approved vendor.”
“But not anymore?” she asked. When Georgie nodded, she was not really surprised. “Let me guess, they said or did things that were sexist and you wouldn’t put up with it?”
“My father…asked…I was at UB…like you. Your father agreed…internship,” she pointed at herself. “Your grandfather rescinded…no women.”
She wasn’t sure which she found more shocking, that Georgie knew her father, that their fathers had known each other, or that her firsthand experience with the Ferdowsi family had not colored her opinion or the opportunity she provided. “You knew?”
“Knew they were…not you, not your granddad.” She didn’t press the issue. Instead she pointed to Aydan’s head cover. “Why the…hijab?”
“What? How dare you question my rights. You can’t…” Georgie’s look of pained amusement halted her protest, a protest she had long practiced, but had never used until now, now, when it was most inappropriate. Her boss wasn’t challenging her religious freedom. Even if she didn’t understand the subtle difference between the simple scarf she preferred to the more formal hijab.
“Before we left…you wore…silk, jacquard? Now, gray, heavy…different. Why?”
No, her objections were not about modesty but the change in conveyance of such. Of course she noticed the difference. The woman was the most innovative engineer she had ever met. As much as she hated to admit that, she knew it was true just as she knew all Georgie wanted was to help. How had she missed that?
Instead of trying to explain, she untucked her headscarf and unwound it, revealing her humiliation for all the world to see but it wasn’t all the world. It was just Georgie DiNamico, her internship supervisor, and she was starting to believe she could be a friend. Certainly the next few moments would tell. Georgie let out a slow breath, standing and moving closer but never touching. At length she sat back down. Her face said so much, but having spent all her time trying to ignore the woman, she couldn’t exactly describe what she saw: anger; confusion; pity? Please, anything but pity.
“Your brother?”
“Brothers,” she corrected. “They wanted me to quit here. They said it was an embarrassment to the family. The only reason I was allowed to continue with university was my father set money away for me, for school, but they said an internship didn’t count.” Unable to hold her head up, she spoke as much to the floor as she did to Georgie. “They showed my mother your engagement announcement and used it as proof that working here would be…inappropriate. They said terrible things. I am so sorry. I should have defended you, but I didn’t know what to say. I lied to them to take this internship. I said I was going to the library every day, but they caught me. I was lucky though, my mother remembered your family name. I didn’t know why but now it makes sense. When we first moved here, my mother actually worked, mostly as my father’s bookkeeper. She would have remembered the larger customers. She didn’t tell me why but agreed I could try it for a few weeks. At the end of the first week, my brothers agreed I could continue only because they knew you and Dr. Marsh had left to test that new boat, and I was working on my own. I didn’t say anything when you returned but they found out. It was horrible. They were yelling at me, calling me…I’m sure you know all the things men call women to belittle them, but now they had all this extra ammunition, with you and Dr. Marsh being…”
“Lesbians? Aydan…it is just…a word. Words don’t…” She pointed to Aydan’s ragged hair and the angry red wounds from shears that had bitten the scalp, in what had obviously been a violent struggle to cut off all her hair.
“The silk scarf I used to wear, it was a gift from my father. You have a good eye. It was a Jacquard; he bought it in Paris the day I was born. He often told me of that day, calling me the ray of sunshine in a world gone mad.” Not able to finish, she stalled, taking a moment to restore her hijab. Finally, she admitted, “I’m not really religious. I’ve been wearing this to hide what they did. I never wore anything on my head when my father was alive. Not that he wouldn’t have it. He was so tolerant with my mother, and her parents. Maybe it’s why their intolerance of me is so…confusing.”
“They are scared…scared people…scared men do bad…did they…”
Aydan looked up, meeting her eyes. “No. They cut off my hair and slapped me around a bit, but mostly they just threatened and berated me. They…I don’t know where it comes from, but they have this sense of entitlement that they expect the world to fill.” Head down again, she admitted, “They forbade me from returning to work here and sent me to my room like a misbehaving child. I waited until they were asleep, packed my clothes, and walked out.”
“And sleeping in…car.”
It wasn’t a question. Clearly, Georgie knew she had been living in the Ford her father had given her as a gift for starting university. Thank goodness he’d had the foresight to put it in her name. The funds he’d set aside for school included a vehicle allowance. She had been living off her gas station credit card which had yet to be canceled. She wasn’t sure why that was. Maybe she had her mother to thank for that but she wouldn’t bank on it. She smiled wryly at her pun. It was a better bet that her internship counted as part of her academic credits and as long as she was in school, her father’s Last Will and Testament was supposed to provide enough money for tuition, books, fees and a full vehicle allowance. Clearly her father never imagined she would be homeless or she was sure he would have addressed that contingency too.
“Come,” Georgie said.
She led the way from the ballroom and back up the stairs to the ninth floor. She swiped her hand over the door sensor to the private suite she shared with Dr. Marsh. Pushing the heavy oak door open, she stopped on the threshold and pointed to where she had swiped her hand. “See sensor?”
“No, actually.”
Georgie nodded. “Good…feel,” she added, pointing to a place along the door molding.
Doing as ordered, Aydan immediately realized that she was touching a pressure panel. Pushing it in, she let it pop open to reveal a numeric pad. She looked up, amazed. Pushing it closed, she examined it again. “I can see it now but only because I know it’s there.”
“Remember that,” was all the response Georgie gave. Leading her back into the foyer of the condo’s upper floor, instead of heading back downstairs, she turned for another closed door. This one was unlocked, and she waved her in.
Aydan almost stopped dead in her tracks. Why was her boss, this lesbian woman, taking her into her bedroom? She gulped back her panic, unwilling to look anything but in control.
“Guest room…bathroom,” she said, pointing to a door across the room. “We will respect…” She pointed to her, explaining, “Your privacy. Stay…as long…” She didn’t finish, just rolled her hand as an indication Aydan now recognized as her signal to continue the sentiment for her. Did this mean she wanted her to stay, uninterrupted, here, with them? She shuddered to think of what her brothers would say and what her mother would think.
“Your choice…other options too.” Georgie seemed to be examining her, not looking at her, but looking inside her.
It felt invasive and she balked at the offer. “You’re…you’re…My family will never allow it.”
At that declaration, Georgie laughed. She actually laughed at her. She then removed her smartphone and started tabbing away. Expecting that she was about to be clobbered with some file or paper as explanation for her humor, she stood by with the company tablet at the ready. Two could play at this game. When the notification pinged, she opened Georgie’s note to find a list of family members who would offer her sanctuary. Seconds later a security notice pinged and she opened it to find she now had access to the penthouse, plus the guest room security locks had been set for her and her alone. The third item she opened was not
a lengthy plea or some paper she was offering as explanation. It was just a simple text: “Aydan, don’t be afraid of things you don’t understand. This is your life, make your own choices, and we will respect the choices you make.”
What choices had she made?
Have I ever made a choice? Staying in school even after all the fights, that was my choice, and leaving home? I made that choice too.
She read the text again: “Aydan, don’t be afraid of things you don’t understand. This is your life, make your own choices, and we will respect the choices you make.”
What am I scared of? They can’t hurt me any more than my family has. Respect? She speaks of respect as if it’s the easiest thing, an automatic thing and I know that’s not true. Yet, she has been respectful. They all have been respectful.
“I have no money to pay you.”
“Friends help…okay?”
Friend? Was she? “I can help out. Dr. Marsh said you need help. I’ll work for my room.”
“Room and board…and pay.”
“But I want to earn my way. I don’t want anyone to think I’m taking advantage. It wouldn’t be right and—”
Georgie held up her hand, halting her protestations. “My Tyler, you two…work it out. Now, we…” she pointed to the tablet, “have a project.” Just then the dog padded in, circling around Aydan before giving her a brush-by doggy hug. “Maggie approves.”
In that moment, all the months of tension Aydan had been carrying melted from her shoulders. She was still a bit apprehensive about staying with these lesbians, but the issues in the forefront were more about not making a fool of herself in front of her boss and the company president. These women held the power to influence her entire career, yet here they were, opening their home to her. Opening their home when her own flesh and blood had turned their backs on her and with such cruelty. In a way, she might as well stay here and let her family think what they wished. They could call her a whore and a dyke all they wanted, but she was going to finish university, pin the PEng designation to her name and do the kind of work she and her father had discussed a million times. Decisively, she said, “Thank you.”
Georgie just nodded. Checking her watch, she showed the time to Aydan before adding, “Look around…then office…fifteen…”
Smiling, she understood she was being given time to settle in. She was also learning to translate Georgie’s militarisms. “Understood. I’ll be in your office a three o’clock.”
Georgie again nodded then retreated from the guest room without another word, the dog Maggie at her side.
Alone, and starting to relax, Aydan took her time examining her new living space. It was neither a small nor a large room. It seemed to have been designed around the furniture, giving every piece the appropriate space and setting. Built-in sconces were in just the right place to provide lighting over each bedside table and framing the queen-size bed. The bed was covered with what she suspected was a family heirloom quilt, judging by the shiny gloss of the well-worn cotton and the number of variegated patches and repairs. It was easy to imagine it had been kept, used, and cared for, for quite some time. She wondered which family it came from, Georgie’s or did it belong to Dr. Marsh, and now she had to wonder about the protocol for addressing someone she was living with.
Is that what I’m doing, living with them? Contemplating the strangeness of life, she turned to the small sitting area. It had a love seat set opposite a large screen television. On the low-slung cabinet underneath the TV sat more game consoles than she even knew existed. But it was the wireless keyboard that caught her eye. She made a note to ask if she could access the Internet. Uplifted by the thought of open access to the world of information, she was propelled toward the TV. A sticker on the keyboard identified it as Wi-Fi enabled. Some of the game systems, she knew, would connect with the Internet for all of those multiplayer games her brothers played. Curious, she cracked open one of the two top drawers of the cabinet. She wasn’t surprised to find it crammed with a variety of game controllers. The drawer below was tightly packed with games of every sort. Moving on, she opened the opposite top drawer to find it packed with DVDs, a jumble of animated favorites and action hero adventures preferred by every kid and teen on the planet. Surely these couldn’t be the type of movies her bosses watched. Did other people watch TV here, younger people, kids? The thought upset her until she realized she was judging again, seeing things through her family’s eyes.
She opened the last drawer to find another assortment of DVDs. These titles, though, she didn’t know. She did recognize the actress on the cover of one. There was no mistaking someone as distinguished as Olympia Dukakis. She flipped the case over, scanning the write-up for Cloudburst…lesbians on the run from a nursing home! As if shocked by electricity, she dropped the DVD case. Feeling caught out, she stuffed it back in its spot. About to shove the drawer closed, she stalled, curiosity overriding her more cautious self. Pulling another DVD from the collection, she read the description. This one was about lesbians too. I Can’t Think Straight. She studied the cover with the eyes of an investigator. The copy on the back named it a popular lesbian drama. Were lesbian movies so common they could be divided into genres? Before she could finish browsing, a notification sounded on her tablet, bringing her investigation to a halt. She carefully reordered the DVDs, closing the cabinet drawer.
It was a text from Georgie. She was to report to Dr. Marsh immediately. The time display on the device showed only 2:40. That could only mean trouble. Was Dr. Marsh upset to learn Georgie had offered her a room? Dreading what was about to come, she took the elevator back to the second floor.
When the doors opened, she hesitated. If Georgie and those two big bosses knew she was in trouble, did that mean everyone else did too?
The two spacious offices at the east end were partitioned in old-fashioned glass and oak panels. Like the well-worn maple plank flooring, they were all original. She spotted Skip. During her first week, Skip had taken it upon himself to give her the whole history of the building, or at least the whole history of Dynamic Marine Engineering. She had imagined him trying to impress or intimidate her with his knowledge and family connections. She had shied away then but was starting to see him just as a friendly and helpful guy.
He caught up with her as she made her way to her doom. “Hey dude!” he said, and offered his standard fist bump. She usually pretended not to see the gesture, but his enthusiasm buoyed her for the moment. “I just heard. That’s so cool! Listen, if there’s anything I can do, just say the word.”
Confused, she stopped, and turning to face him, asked as plainly as she could, “You know?”
He grinned. “Oh, I know it’s all hush-hush, but Aunt Lori kinda let the cat out of the bag. Boy, I can’t wait to see what you and Georgie do? This is so cool!”
She felt blood draining from her face. How could he be so callous—and what on earth did he think she would consent to do with her boss? What had she gotten herself into? Her desk wasn’t far away, maybe thirty feet. Just walk over, grab your coat and purse, and go.
“Skippy!”
Too late! She was frozen in place. Dr. Marsh was standing right behind her.
“All right, Mr. Social Butterfly, back to work. And don’t even think of pestering Aydan for a sneak peek at the new office layout!” She turned to the open office, addressing their dozen engineers. “As Skip here has already spilled the beans, I might as well make it official. We will be moving our division to the eighth floor and before anyone starts to complain, yes it is less space than we have now, and yes it’s twice as much space as each of the guys on seven get. Good enough?”
There were a few grumbles but she continued, “Georgie and Aydan will be designing the upgrades to the old ballroom. This is happening, folks, so figure out what changes, if any, would improve on what we’ve got now. No idea is too crazy. But you have to get them to Aydan ASAP. Understood?”
While Dr. Marsh fielded a few questions, Aydan slowly recovered her co
mposure. Skip hadn’t been talking about her. He was excited for her. How very interesting.
She followed Dr. Marsh into the corner office and stood by the guest chair waiting to be offered a seat. Instead she was waved into the small corner seating area made up by a love seat and two upholstered chairs. She chose the closest chair before noticing several items set on the table in front of it.
“Go ahead, Aydan; those are for you to read.”
“I…have I done something wrong?”
Dr. Marsh looked genuinely surprised by the question. “Why would you think that?” When Aydan didn’t answer, she reached for the stack, setting them on her lap and sorting them carefully.
It would be difficult not to notice Tyler Marsh. She was poised, carrying herself at her full height. The women in Aydan’s family were all tall too but not elegant like her, not strong. They hid their height, cowering to their men and the world. And there was something more; Marsh and her peers were unapologetic about their appearance. They stood tall with such pride.
“Let’s start with this,” she offered, handing Aydan an envelope and a receipt. “That is an emergency education bursary. We usually hand out a few every year. Please sign the receipt. Usually we just issue a check but I took it from petty cash just in case you couldn’t get to your bank…”
“I don’t have a bank,” she admitted without taking her eyes from the receipt clipped to the envelope. It was made out to her, with a frightening amount listed: “Twelve hundred dollars? I—”
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