“I think so.” Joel said.
Maria waved her hands toward the living room. “Put that baby on! I need musical accompaniment to give you a feel for the ambiance, so I can do justice to the re-telling of this experience.”
Joel stood up. “Okay, if you want.” He went over to the stereo and started rummaging through the pile of CDs.
“Anyway, I asked the guys if they’d be willing to play an office party.” Maria smirked. “They were all over it. It’s their first major gig, you know. I gave them their big break. So I feel good about that.”
“Silver lining,” Kat said.
“Once I had the band lined up, I moved into my full-on power-party-planner mode.” Maria fluffed her hair for emphasis. “I printed up flyers and everything. I told Mark that the party was in his honor, to make sure he’d be there. I wiped out the petty-cash fund and got the best munchies ever. There was an open bar and everyone was having a great time. By the time Funkcan came in to play their set, most of the office staff was feeling really fine.”
“I hesitate to ask this, but did Duncan dress up as Freddy Mercury?” Kat said.
Maria giggled. “Oh yeah. He had his skinny little ass in high heels and the full leather drag get-up. It was outstanding.”
Kat could hear Joel chuckling from across the room as he sorted through CDs. “So then what happened?”
“Well I hired a stage-lighting crew and they set up the lights and a wooden platform in the corner, over near Mark’s office.”
“Wow. When you blow the petty-cash fund, you really go for it.” Kat said.
“I don’t like to do things halfway, girlfriend. Then someone turned off those horrible fluorescents in the office and the stage lights came on. It was like blue and purple streamers of light. Duncan got up on the stage and started singing Queen’s “Death on Two Legs.” They’ve got these serious speakers and amplifiers and Frank was just wailing away on the guitar, doing backup.”
“I think I know this song.” Kat looked over at Joel. “Did you find it?”
“Yes. It’s one of Abigail’s I think,” he said.
Kat said to Maria, “Since Joel and I combined our CD collections with Abigail’s, we have access to almost any classic-rock album made in the last thirty years. It’s pretty impressive.”
The song began to play and Joel walked back to the table. Maria said, “Mark was standing right next to the stage. Now imagine Duncan in full-on tranny drag, crooning these lyrics—comparing Mark to a leech and calling him an overgrown schoolboy.”
Kat put her face in her hands and snickered. “Wow. There are no words.”
“So the guys finish up the last few lyrics and Mark’s kinda standing there looking confused, with his mouth hanging open. I’m not sure he actually got it.” Maria grinned. “But everyone else did, since a lot of the women were waving their arms and screaming. People were holding up lighters. It was an experience, and I think Funkcan has a major fan base now.
After the mayhem died down, Joyce handed me the cake, which I had made up special by that great bakery around the corner. I got up on the stage, took the microphone from Duncan, and said, “You can kiss my ass goodbye,” and then I handed Mark the cake, which said “I quit” in pretty purple cursive letters. It also had my cell phone sticking out the top like a wedding-cake topper.”
“Nice touch.” Kat said.
“It’s all about the details, girlfriend.” Maria took a sip of wine. “Then I left, grabbed some stuff from home, and came up here.”
“I don’t suppose anyone videotaped this, did they?” Kat said.
Maria shook her head. “I think Joyce had a camera, though.”
“Make sure you get copies. I have got to see those pictures.” Kat put down her wine glass. “Maybe tomorrow we can work on your resume.”
Maria leaned forward, holding her glass with both hands. “I don’t think I’m going to be asking Mark for a reference.”
“Yeah, that probably wouldn’t be a good idea.”
Chapter 13
Friends & Robots
The next morning, Tracy was awakened by the feel of Rob running his hand up the back of her calf, up to where her leg was sticking out from under the sheets. She rolled over and looked up at him. He was holding two mugs of coffee by the handles in his other hand.
He sat down on the edge of the futon and handed her a mug. “Good morning.”
Tracy sat up and took a sip of coffee. “Same to you. A girl could get used to this. I like this no-alarm-clock thing.”
Rob set his mug down on the coffee table, put his hands on either side of her jaw, and kissed her. “Me too.”
Tracy looked into his eyes. “Is something wrong? You look like you just lost your best friend.”
“Not yet.”
She sat up straighter. “What happened?”
“I woke up early and checked my e-mail.” He pointed at his work laptop, which was sitting on the coffee table next to his glasses and coffee. “Sometimes real life has a way of intruding on your dreams.”
Tracy smiled. “I thought almost the same thing not too long ago when I was driving back up the hill to Alpine Grove. I tried to pretend I was driving your car, and The Turd almost stalled out, which really interrupted my flow.”
He took her in his arms and kissed her neck behind her ear. “Being here with you has been like a dream.”
Tracy leaned back to look at him. “Except for that whole work part.”
“No, even that was great. You make me laugh, and you’re so beautiful and sexy. Plus, you’re just fun to be around. Even when you’re trying to avoid working.”
She widened her eyes in mock horror. “I would never do that.”
He reached over and grabbed his coffee again. “Well, you don’t have to worry, because I got an e-mail from Ben Walsh. They gave the contract to some big firm in LA.”
Tracy slumped down on the futon, cradling the coffee in both hands. “I guess that’s not completely unexpected. But I think I secretly thought it would really happen. The last few days, I’ve walked through quitting my job in my mind probably a thousand times. Dr. C is always really nice about me quitting, and gives me free vet care for Roxy forever.”
Rob stroked her cheek. “You certainly have a detailed fantasy life.”
“Maybe we can change Ben’s mind.”
“I don’t think so. Maybe it wasn’t meant to be. I mean, what are the odds that you’d say your father’s name wrong, anyway?”
Tracy sat up straight again. “You do think this is my fault, don’t you? That I did that on purpose. I knew it! This is probably part of your theory of sabotage or whatever it is. You’re the one who wouldn’t stop laughing.”
Rob held up a hand. “Hey, don’t get mad at me. I’m just telling you what he said.”
Tracy reached down to put her mug on the floor, flopped down on her side, and put her hand under the pillow. “You’re being too nice about my screw-up again. Why are you being so reasonable? You should be mad. At Ben. At me. At somebody. I mean, come on. We did all that work for nothing.”
Rob took a sip of coffee and peered over the rim of the mug. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Okay.”
“Were you a cheerleader in high school?”
She rearranged her pillow. “What? Is this a trick question?” She fisted her hand and shot it up in the air. “Cedar County High School Rules!”
“That’s what I thought. Let me guess. That guy you dated in high school. Neil or whatever his name was? He was on the football team, wasn’t he?”
“Yes. He was the quarterback. So what?”
“Do you remember any of the guys who were in the chess club, the math club, or metal shop?”
She shrugged. “Not really, I guess. The high school draws from a pretty wide area actually, not just Alpine Grove. So it’s not like I knew everybody.”
“Those geeks in the math club were me. Some people go through life being sort of forgettable. Early on, you fig
ure out you won’t be dating the cheerleaders and they don’t know you exist. Or if they do know, they just think you’re really weird, and they pretend you don’t exist. The end result is basically the same. That’s why being with you is kind of like a dream for me. You actually talked to me in class that first day. And then you talked to me again.”
Tracy sat up. “I would have noticed you in high school. Neil was in auto shop, remember?”
“I was not a jock. Just a tall, skinny weirdo.”
“Okay, so what? Life is not high school. What does this have to do with anything?”
He leaned back and put his arm behind his head. “Sometimes you just have to accept that no matter how much you may want something or how hard you work, it’s just not going to work out. You put yourself out there—you try. But some things are out of your control.”
Tracy shook her head. “That is such a cop-out.”
“No. It’s just the way things are. Some people are born salespeople. I’m not. I hate presentations, speaking, and all that.”
“So what? You can still do the work.”
“Not if I never get the job. I knew it was a long-shot, but I thought having you there might help. I fix someone’s network system and the next day they can’t remember my name. That’s one reason I’ve had so much fun being here. I go to the cafe and Betsy asks me about the project. When I see Joe, he talks about my hair.” He pointed at the shelf along the wall, which the paint box was now sitting on. “And your mom gave me that shelf over there because she remembered something I said.”
“Yeah, that was nice of her.” She shook her head. “But I don’t get why any of this makes any difference.”
Rob sat up again, moved to the edge of the futon, and put his feet on the floor. “I didn’t think you’d understand. From what you’ve said, you haven’t ever wanted something bad enough to really work hard for it. If you know deep down that you never truly did everything you possibly could, you’re never completely disappointed either.”
“That’s not true. I tried in college!”
“Couldn’t you have switched majors, explored other options, or done something else instead of just quitting and going home to live with your parents?”
“I don’t know. Maybe. Who knows? That was a long time ago.”
“I’m just saying that different people have things that affect their lives. Different experiences. Baggage. All that has an effect on how you react.”
“This is all too depressing. I don’t want to have this conversation.” She gestured toward the windows. “I screwed up at the meeting and you’re just acting like it’s no big deal. I mean, what are you, some kind of bizarre robot?”
Rob jerked away as if she’d slapped him, and stood up. He walked over to the coffee table and slammed his mug down on the edge of it with enough force that the ancient wooden legs on one side collapsed. The table fell and the laptop slid off and crashed to the floor, landing on Rob’s glasses. One lens popped out of the frame and spun across the floor like a top. Roxy yipped, jumped up off Rob’s shirt on the floor where she’d been sleeping, and ran under the futon.
Rob managed to keep from dropping his mug on the laptop, but coffee spilled on his hand. As he shook his fingers, droplets of coffee swirled off around the room. He picked up the lens off the floor and placed it deliberately on the counter. Turning to look at her, he growled, “No. I am not some type of robot.”
Tracy pulled the sheet up to her chin. “I...I didn’t mean that. Sometimes I say things without thinking.”
“And because you’re you.” He waved his hand vertically, indicating the length of her body. “You can get away with it.” Shaking his hand again, he moved to the sink and poured the coffee down the drain.
“That’s not true!”
Rob turned and leaned back on the counter, waving the mug as he spoke. “I had this all figured out. We do a few screen layouts every night and no problem. But no—you refuse to work and spend your time going out with Mr. Gorgeous Trout Guy. And then...and then you have the great idea to stay up all night. I knew that wouldn’t work. I can’t deal with no sleep.”
“But we finished the job. We did it!”
He turned back to face the sink. “And then I blew it because I was too tired to think straight.” The muscles in his back tensed and he threw the coffee mug into the sink. It made an ear-splitting cracking noise as it shattered. Putting his hand over his eyes, he bowed his head. “It was stupid to think this would ever work.”
“What do you mean?”
“I need to go.” He walked over and crouched down next to the laptop on the floor. After slapping the lid closed, he began ripping the cords off the back. “The work e-mails I got were worse than the note from Ben. When I go back to my real life, it looks like I’ll have to go to Iowa, then Oklahoma, then Nebraska.”
“You have to go to Iowa?”
“Yes. Iowa.” He stood up, holding the laptop. “Normally, I try not to think too much about work. Usually, I just blow things up.”
“What?”
Rob pointed at the pile of boxes that contained the various components of his personal computer that he’d brought from home. “Video games. When I’m not working, I sit at home and blow things up. It’s more socially acceptable to play video games in my dreary apartment than to throw things. I wired up my computer so it’s attached to my huge TV. Blowing up stuff is better than spending too much time thinking about my job. But this place is so small, I can’t even set up my computer.” He shoved the pile of Tracy’s clothes off the boxes, so they fell on the floor. Slamming the laptop on top of the stack of boxes, he said, “And now my computer seems to be your new laundry basket. Don’t you ever put anything away?”
Tracy twisted the sheet in her hands. “Shouldn’t you be careful with the laptop?”
“It’s ruggedized. That’s the word they use for laptops you can use in harsh environments. Like North Dakota in January, for example.” His shoulders slumped and he closed his eyes. “Which is only slightly worse than Nebraska in November.”
“I guess I didn’t realize how much this meant to you.”
“I know. I tried not to get my hopes up. But you weren’t the only one with fantasies of quitting your job.”
She got up off the futon and stood in front of him. “I have got to get ready for work. I’m going to be late. Please don’t leave.”
Shaking his head, he bent to pick up his glasses. “I have to fix these.”
Tracy went to the bathroom and turned on the shower. She got in and began scrubbing shampoo into her hair vigorously as tears streamed down her cheeks. What just happened there? Was Rob just going to give up, leave, and never see her again? That idea just made her cry harder. She began sobbing, swiped at her face with her hand, and got soap in her eye. He was wrong. She was disappointed. And furious. And sad. All at the same time. She definitely didn’t want Rob to leave, never to return. That was too awful to contemplate. But a long-distance relationship was dismal at best, and pointless at worst. The guy was never even at home. She’d never see him again.
Tracy got out of the shower and wiped the condensation off the small mirror. Yikes. Scary. She splashed some cold water on her face and looked again. Not much of an improvement. She still looked like an albino hamster with a bad case of pink-eye. Ugh. She opened the door and went out into the room.
Roxy was curled up next to Rob on the futon, which was back in couch configuration, the sheets neatly folded in a pile. The end of the coffee table was propped up on the paint box and her clothes were off the floor. Maybe he’d thrown them in the closet. Rob’s clothes appeared to be packed away in his luggage. He sat petting the dog with one hand and holding a fresh mug of coffee in the other.
Tracy sat down next to him. All the anger seemed to have drained out of him and he had settled into morose silence. Tracy turned to face him. “I’m sorry. I feel terrible. I don’t want to argue. You only have a couple of days before you have to go back to work. Please stay
here. Today, I’ll see if I can get some time off.”
“I don’t see the point. I should just go back to work. They’re getting my flights set up. I should go home.”
She touched his arm and felt him flinch. “That’s a lot of miles. Why not just enjoy your last days of vacation?”
“I have racked up enough frequent-flyer miles, going to all these networking jobs, that I could take a free trip pretty much anywhere. Except I never do.”
Tracy took his hand. “Just stay, then. Stop by the clinic at three. I’ll make sure I’m done.”
“All right.” He waved toward the coffee table. “I’ll go to the hardware store and see if I can find something to fix that.”
She squeezed his hand. “I’d be happy to take some of those frequent-flyer miles off your hands this winter if you’d like to take me to the Caribbean.”
He sighed deeply and took her in his arms. “We’ll see.” He kissed her gently. “If you actually still feel that way a few months from now, we’ll talk.”
At the clinic, Tracy had a lot of time to think because there weren’t many appointments. She spent most of the day monitoring the anesthesia machine while Dr. Cassidy spayed and neutered animals.
The vet looked up from her stitches. “You sure are quiet today.”
“I think I had a fight with Rob.”
Dr. Cassidy snipped off a thread. “Don’t you know?”
“Yes. I guess it was a fight. I said some things I shouldn’t have. But mostly I think we were both just mad and sad because he found out we didn’t get the web-site contract. He’s more upset than I thought.”
“Well, it sounded like there was a lot of competition.” The vet pointed at the anesthesia machine with her needle.
Tracy leaned over and adjusted a dial. “I suppose. He’s going to be traveling for work for ages. I’m not even sure when I’ll see him again.”
“At least you have a couple of days off. Maybe you can figure something out.”
The Art of Wag Page 21