by La Jill Hunt
I passed him a plate, and he left the kitchen without saying another word.
“What the—”
I held up my hand. “Don’t, please.”
“Zenobia Chanel Ferguson Brooks, have you lost your mind?” Bailey hissed.
“No, Bailey. It’s okay. I’ve been out of work long enough, and the truth is, I miss it.”
“Fine, then work from home. I’m sure you have plenty of stuff you can be making or sewing right here. You don’t have to go into the office.”
“You know Var doesn’t consider that real work.” I laughed, making air quotes around the last words.
Bailey was right about the sewing. I did have several people who were eager for me to get back to my first love, sewing and interior design, but since landing the account management position at the real estate firm, I hadn’t had the time to sew as much as I used to.
“I don’t give a shit what Var thinks,” Bailey scoffed. “I get it, Zen. You love LaVar, always have, but you also have to love yourself too.”
I shook my head. “I know you mean well, but I’m good. You know if I wasn’t, I would tell you.”
“Zen, you’re not ready to go back. Just take a little while longer,” she pleaded. “At least just go back part-time for a couple of weeks.”
“I’ll think about it,” I said weakly. I hated lying to my best friend, especially when I knew she had my best interests at heart, but there was no way I could stay out of work for another two and a half weeks. It had already been decided that it was time for me to return, even when my mind and body didn’t agree.
Chapter Three
“You’re back?” Gayle, my manager, looked up from her desk after I tapped on her door. Lloyd Dickerson, another manager, who also happened to be the son of the firm’s owner, was sitting in one of the leather chairs in front of her.
“Zenobia, glad to see you’re doing better.” Lloyd smiled at me. Unlike everyone else in the office, he always called me by my real name. Lloyd was good looking, which made constantly the subject of conversation among females in the office, who talked about everything from the designer suits he wore to the scent of his cologne. Even I had to admit that I had noticed him a time or two when he walked by.
“Uh, thanks,” I said. “Gayle, can I talk to you for a second?”
“Sure, come on in.” She waved her hand and beckoned for me to come inside.
Lloyd remained seated, and I hesitated. After a few seconds, he got the hint and said, “Oh, I’m sorry. Let me get on out here and make this quota so I can keep my job. Welcome back, Zenobia.”
I stepped aside so he could walk out before I entered the small room.
Gayle sat up in her chair. “You look amazing. But how are you feeling? I didn’t expect you back for another couple of weeks.”
“Well, I’m not a hundred percent yet, but I think I should be ready by Monday.” I sighed, looking around and noticing a large white board with the names of all the account managers, including mine, along with the number of dollars collected for the month so far. Those on target to meet their monthly goal were in green; those who were below par were in red. I located my name, which was in black, along with the word sick. When I made the decision to go back to work early, all the long days, late nights, worrisome account holders, and harrowing goals and quotas had somehow slipped my mind. As I sat across from my supervisor, it all came back to me. A slight tinge of anxiety caused my blood pressure to rise, and that was the last thing I needed to happen.
“I’m so happy to hear that you’ll be back. I know you see our numbers are down tremendously.” Gayle hopped up and walked over to the board to erase sick from beside my name.
“Well,” I said, remembering my conversation with Bailey, “I’m thinking it will probably be better if I came back part-time instead, if that’s okay.”
The smile on Gayle’s face slipped slightly.
“Just until I’m one hundred percent, which will be sooner rather than later,” I told her.
“Well, I’m sure that won’t be a problem. I will have to let Lloyd and his father know so they can approve.”
“I’d appreciate that.” I stood up.
“So, we’ll see you on Monday?” she asked as if to make sure I was still coming in.
“Yes, Monday morning, nine a.m.,” I said before I walked out of her office and went down the hallway to my cubicle. Several of my coworkers greeted me, and I couldn’t help but notice the hint of sadness in their eyes as they spoke to me. Word of my pregnancy had just gotten around when the mishap occurred. I could tell that they were trying to be as polite as possible.
“You’re back so soon?” Lila, whose cubicle was right beside mine, jumped up and hugged me. She was a younger girl who was hired right after I was. I liked her a lot, and her lighthearted spirit was one of the things that made my job a little easier.
She pointed to the dress and black heels I wore. “You stay fly, Zen. I swear.”
“Thanks, and well, I’m back, but it’s only going to be part-time for a couple of weeks,” I told her.
“Well, even if it’s only a couple of minutes, we’re glad to have you back here.” She smiled. “How are you feeling?”
“A little stronger each day,” I said with a sigh.
Lila nodded. “I understand. My sister went through the same thing. She says she’s available to talk if you need to.”
“Thanks, but I’m fine,” I said.
Lila’s phone began ringing, so she stepped back into her workspace. I sat at my desk and looked at the pile of papers that lay on top.
If anyone had told me that I would be sitting behind a computer day after day, talking to tenants about their delinquent accounts, I would have said they were crazy. I had always dreamed of working for a real estate firm, but not as an account manager. I wanted to stage homes and possibly work at a design firm. But, after I finished college with a degree in visual arts and was unable to find a job in my field, Var suggested that I accept the fact that maybe it wasn’t going to happen and I just needed to do something that paid decent money.
At the time, I was working at a fabric store, and although I wasn’t making a lot of money, I enjoyed my job. Then, the mother of Var’s daughter took him back to court for an increase, and things got tight for us. The stress and strain took a toll on our relationship, and we decided to take a break. Another friend of ours mentioned to him that she was moving and suggested I apply for her position with the firm. I did, and landed the job, which paid more than I expected. But I earned each and every dime. Soon after, Var and I started dating again, and he asked me to move in. I was ecstatic.
Now, as I listened to Lila becoming increasingly irritated at whomever was on the other end of the phone, and I stared at the pile of paperwork in front of me, I was beginning to feel overwhelmed. I stood up, gave Lila a quick wave, and headed down the hallway.
“So, Gayle says you’re back on Monday, huh?”
Lloyd’s voice startled me as I waited for the elevator to arrive.
“Yeah.” I nodded.
“Well, it’ll be nice to see your smiling face around here, even if it’s only for a few hours a day.” He grinned at me.
The elevator doors opened, and we both stepped on. I pushed the button for the lobby, and the doors closed.
“You going all the way down?” I asked.
He took a step toward me, looked me up and down in a way that took me by surprise, then said, “If you want me to.”
I blinked for a second, trying to gather my thoughts, but before I could respond, the elevator stopped. A couple of other people got on, both of whom spoke to Lloyd, and he moved away from me. I glanced over at him to try to read his expression, but he looked away. When the elevator reached the next floor, he got off without a good-bye and disappeared down the hallway.
What the heck was that all about?
Chapter Four
I walked into the house, and for the first time since coming home from the hospital,
I walked into the bedroom that held all of my sewing and craft materials. I called it my salon. A large shelf held bins of fabric, appliques, books, and magazines. There were also jars of thread, buttons, and other materials that I tried, unsuccessfully most of the time, to keep organized. This room used to be my safe haven, where I could escape from the chaos of the outside world and design and create whatever my heart desired.
I sat in the chair in front of my machine and picked up the soft cotton material covered with ducks. I had planned to make pillows and wall coverings from the fabric. Now, it seemed pointless. A lump swelled in my chest, and I tried to force it down, but I couldn’t. I put the fabric down, hurried back out of the room, and ran into the kitchen. The bag of Doritos that Bailey had snacked on a few days before was still in the middle of the table. I opened the bag and began eating the chips by the handful as I sat and cried. Then, when I realized the bag was empty, I cried even more. My life was spiraling out of control, and my emotions were all over the place. I put the empty bag in the trash, went into the living room, and lay on the sofa, where I fell asleep.
When I woke up, it was dark, and Var still wasn’t home. I sat up and rubbed my eyes, then checked the time. It was almost ten o’clock. I took my cell phone from my purse and sent him a text. It wasn’t like him to stay out late, especially during the week, but I knew wherever he was, most likely it was work related. There was a time when Var would come home late and I would assume he had been out with some other woman—and I would be right. But, when I moved in with him and he gave me the car he no longer drove, I knew he was finally ready to settle down and be faithful. He had come a long way and earned the trust that I now had in him.
I heard someone fumbling at the front door and got up. Before I could get to it, I heard the lock turn, and Var backed inside carrying something.
“Hey, baby.” He smiled when he saw me standing near the doorway. “Can you grab my keys out the door for me?”
He was dragging something, so I moved so he could get past me.
“What in the world?” I asked, walking back inside after getting his keys.
“Boxes,” he said, pointing to the folded pieces of cardboard. He walked over and gave me a kiss.
“Boxes?” I asked, looking up at him. “That’s where you’ve been?”
“Well, me and a couple of the other loan officers went and had a couple of drinks at Coppola’s, then I stopped at Walmart and grabbed some boxes. Did you eat?” he asked.
I thought about the entire bag of Doritos I’d devoured before taking a nap and shook my head in an effort to clear the memory, but Var took it as me saying no.
“Let’s go to Hooters and grab wings and nachos,” he suggested.
“It’s late,” I said. One of the small diet changes Dr. Anderson had suggested was that I not eat so late. Even though I hadn’t changed my eating habits completely, I had been trying to not eat after seven p.m.
“Okay, but I’m still hungry, and I know you are too. You’re already dressed. Where are your shoes?”
I smoothed the soft fabric of the black-and-white printed dress I was still wearing and tried to recall where my shoes were. “In the salon. But—”
“Perfect. That’s exactly where these boxes are going anyway,” he said, picking them up.
“What? Why?”
“That’s the first room we’re packing up.”
“But Var—”
He disappeared down the hallway, the boxes in his arms, returning a few moments later, carrying my pumps.
“Var, I really don’t feel like going anywhere,” I told him.
“Come on, Zen.” He put the shoes on the floor and pulled me to him. “We haven’t had a late-night dinner date in forever.”
“I know, but I had a long day, and I’m really tired.”
“Tired from what? Playing on your sewing machine?” He said it teasingly, but I wasn’t amused. When he made jokes about my sewing, I knew he didn’t mean any harm; which was why I tried not to let it hurt my feelings too much. But sometimes, like tonight, it did.
“I went into the office to talk to Gayle,” I replied. I was about to tell him what had happened with Lloyd on the elevator, but then thought it best I didn’t mention it. I also didn’t say anything about my working part-time for a couple of weeks. It didn’t really matter, though, because he was already rambling on about something else. I hadn’t even realized I zoned out until I heard the word move. I turned my attention to what he was saying.
“I’m trying to make this move smooth and organized. We can get as much packed up as possible the rest of the week and this weekend before you go back to work,” Var said.
“Wait. What are you talking about? What’s the rush?” I frowned. “I mean, I know I’m going back to work, but I’m still not a hundred percent. I still have to take it easy.”
“Baby, this isn’t a game. Our offer for the house was accepted. We gotta pack up and get into our new place. I turned our thirty-day notice in today.”
I felt like I still needed time to process everything, but Var wanted me to jump right back into life as if nothing had happened. Tonight, I was too tired to protest, though, so I swallowed any reservations I was feeling and put on my shoes so we could go out to eat.
* * *
Returning to work part-time was easier said than done. My plan was to work until about noon or one o’clock each day, but somehow, I ended up working my normal schedule and leaving with everyone else at five. By the time I made it home each evening, I was exhausted, but Var wasn’t trying to hear it. He insisted that we go through each room, purging and packing in preparation for our move. It was as if he couldn’t wait to leave. I had started to feel excited about the move, but nowhere near as much as he was. A few times, I had come home to find him already there, packing things and moving boxes around. He wouldn’t even let me sit down for a rest before he was recruiting me to work with him. Between work at the firm and the late nights packing with Var, I was exhausted. It would catch up with me midmornings at work.
“Girl, I feel the same way,” Lila whispered when she caught me yawning during our monthly staff meeting. The owner, Mr. Graves, was going on and on about something he had been reading from a slip of paper for the past ten minutes, but he was stumbling and mumbling to the point that no one was listening.
“We all do,” said another coworker who was sitting behind me.
The door to the large meeting room we were assembled in opened, and Lloyd walked in, causing everyone to turn and look. You could hear the whispers of almost every female as he took a seat at the front of the room with the other management staff.
“So, he’s going to be working out of this office now?” I leaned over and asked Lila.
“Yeah, he’s been moved to this location permanently,” she said.
“I thought he was the property manager over at Westwood.”
“Not anymore. We get to enjoy all of that eye candy now.” The girl sitting behind me giggled.
Mr. Graves continued mumbling into the microphone. The sound of his voice was making me sleepier than I already was.
“Well, now that he’s over here, they need to let him handle the meetings. We would def be way more attentive, that’s for sure,” I suggested.
“Now, that’s a good idea.” Lila laughed.
“Yes. You’re right about that, girl.” A few other female employees near us laughed and agreed.
“And I bet the number of top performers each month would increase too.” I sighed.
“Oh, I would definitely be in that number,” another girl stated, causing Lila to laugh even louder. I elbowed her as I looked up and saw Lloyd staring at us.
When the meeting was finally over, I went into the break room to get a cup of coffee. I had just hit the brew button on the Keurig when Lloyd walked in.
“Hello, Zenobia.”
“Hello, Lloyd.”
“I see we both need a little afternoon pick-me-up, huh?” He stared at me.
> “Yeah, a little,” I said politely, turning around and staring at the brown liquid pouring into my favorite coffee mug.
“Nothing like something rich, sweet, and hot to brighten up the day. It’s my personal favorite.” He licked his lips and leaned on the counter beside where I stood.
The machine stopped, and I quickly grabbed my mug and headed toward my desk. When I sat down, my hand was shaking so much that I nearly spilled coffee on my desk. There was no doubt about what Lloyd meant by his statement, and he had made me feel very uncomfortable.
“You forgot this.”
I jumped when I heard the voice behind me. I turned around in my chair to see Lloyd standing in the middle of my cube, smiling, with my cell phone in his hand. The lock screen displayed a picture of Var and me hugging.
“Thanks.” My voice was shaky as I stood and held my hand out for him to give me the phone.
He took a step toward me, so close that I could smell his cologne and see the faint five o’clock shadow on his face. He pressed the phone against me, and I grabbed it. His fingers lingered along my breast, and he leaned in close and whispered, “Nice picture. That’s one lucky man.”
“Hey, Zen.” Lila’s voice came over the cubicle wall.
Lloyd winked and eased out of my workspace as silently as he had entered a few moments earlier, leaving me speechless and afraid.
Chapter Five
“He did what?” Bailey yelled through the phone.
I explained for the third time what had happened in the break room and at my desk an hour earlier. The incident had left me so shaken that I left work early without saying anything to anyone, not even Lila.
“What did you say? Did you go the fuck off?” she asked.
“I ain’t say or do anything.” I sighed, now feeling like I should have had a bigger reaction when the incident happened. My mind became filled with what I could have done differently; then I wondered if maybe, because I hadn’t reacted differently, I was blowing things out of proportion.