by Doxer, Debra
He shakes his head. “No need. I never burn.”
I’m both surprised and disappointed. His skin does seem to have a naturally tan, almost Mediterranean tone to it, but now I have no excuse to touch him. Doesn’t he want me to? Then I realize that Wes is back. The creak of his chair alerts me to the fact that he has joined us again. He has also returned well within the hour he had been allowed. Either he got bored or he actually listened to his brother.
“How was your walk?” Ryan asks.
“Fine.” Wes’s eyes travel between Ryan and I, lingering over my chest long enough to make me uncomfortable.
“You should be wearing sunscreen,” I tell Wes to divert his attention. “You’re paler than I am.” I hand it to him and to my surprise he listens and begins applying it.
I turn back to Ryan. “So, you never burn?”
“Nope,” he repeats. Then he leans in closer to me. “Not from the sun at least.”
I can feel my eyes widen in response as my traitorous cheeks start to heat again.
Ryan tries to hide his growing grin as he stands and moves toward the cooler in front of us. When I come back to earth again, I focus on the food he’s pulling out. I can hardly believe the lunch Ryan has packed. I’ve brought nothing. For some reason, I assumed there would be a food stand here. I realize now that there isn’t. From the cooler, Ryan has withdrawn about half a dozen sandwiches, grapes, peaches, and a bag of chips. He next removes three bottles of water.
“I know you’re not a vegetarian since you ordered a burger at lunch,” Ryan says. “I figured turkey was probably a safe bet.”
“Turkey is great,” I tell him, not sure why I’m so dumbfounded that he’s gone to the trouble of bringing lunch for all of us. I almost want to cry at the gesture.
“I know a girl who’s allergic to poultry,” Wes states casually.
I turn to him surprised. This is the first sentence he’s offered that wasn’t prompted by a question. “Really?” I answer, taking the offered sandwich from Ryan. “That’s unusual.”
He nods. “She goes into anaphylactic shock when she even gets near it.”
“From poultry?” Ryan asks skeptically, sitting himself down beside me again.
Wes confirms this with a solemn nod. “It happened one day in the school cafeteria. It wasn’t pretty.”
“Was she okay?”
He shrugs. “I guess. She was back in school in the next week. She missed her afternoon midterms though. I wished I’d thought of that. Maybe I could suddenly become allergic to paper or something.”
“You’re already allergic to homework,” Ryan mutters.
“Ha ha.” Wes smirks at him, unbothered.
The rest of the afternoon passes quickly in a swirl of animated conversation, fleeting moments of eye-contact between Ryan and I, and attempts at swimming in the seaweed laden ocean. In late August, the beaches around Massachusetts seem to overflow with seaweed, thickening the water and covering the sand. I cringe at the feel of it brushing against my skin, but I don’t want to be the wimpy girl. So I follow Ryan and Wes when the afternoon heat drives them into the water.
As we head down to the water line, I imagine horsing around in the water with Ryan and hoping we’ll get to touch again, but Wes has brought a football with him. Although Ryan tries to include me in their ball toss game, Wes seems intent on holding his brother’s attention. When the throwing distance becomes far more than I can achieve, I beg off and head back to my beach chair.
The air chills my wet skin, and I wrap a towel around myself as I go for my cell phone again. This time there is a message. Feeling hopeful, I dial into my voicemail. At first I don’t recognize the voice. “Hi Andrea. It’s Jason. Just thought I’d give you a call. Hope you’re having a good weekend. Get in touch if you’d like to meet up again one night this week.”
I stare at my phone. It’s unlikely I’ll be returning that call. Frustrated and bordering on angry, I dial Katie’s cell phone number. It goes straight to voicemail. “It’s Andy,” I begin, “I hope you got my previous messages. I understand if you don’t want to talk to me, but I’m worried about you. Please at least text me and let me know that you’re okay. We don’t have to talk if you don’t want to. Just a quick, ‘Hey, it’s Katie. I haven’t stuck my head in an oven’ would be good.” I wince as I push the End button. I’m always trying to make a wisecrack, but if Katie really is completely depressed right now, that was a stupid message to have left.
I look up to see Ryan and Wes making their way toward me with water dripping off their hair and smiles on their faces. Watching them walking beside each other, I can imagine Wes as an adult, filled out and less awkward, more like his brother. I hope he gets his act together soon, before he gets into trouble he can’t get out of.
By late afternoon the crowds began to pack up and drift off to their cars. After much hinting from Wes, our little group does the same. I slip my clothes on over my sticky skin, trying to brush the clinging sand away, and I look forward to the shower I’ll take the minute I get home. Overall, it has been a very pleasant day. I can’t help but think how differently the day might have gone if it had just been the two of us. Ryan seemed uncomfortable talking about anything more than surface topics in front of his brother. So, other than his family issues, I haven’t really learned anything more about Ryan. But I don’t want to begrudge him time with his brother.
The car ride home is much quicker than the ride there. Tired from the day, we’re mostly silent, enjoying the radio and watching the passing scenery. We arrive back at my townhouse around six in the evening. I tell Wes that I enjoyed meeting him. I think I notice the tiniest hint of a smile on his face when he mumbles back, “Yeah, you too.”
“Be right back,” Ryan tells his brother as he gets out and walks around the car to take me to my door.
I feel less than fresh as we pause together in the doorway. “I had a really nice day. Thank you,” I say, looking up at him. The familiar butterflies begin to swarm as I anticipate and hope for a kiss, even though I know Wes can still see us from the car.
He inches closer to me. “Me, too,” he says, his voice low and deep. As his intense hazel eyes search mine, I can clearly read his intentions in them. His fingers move beneath my chin to lift my face toward his. Slowly, he leans down, closing the short distance between us. I feel a shiver slide through me as his warm lips meet mine. It’s a soft slow caressing kiss, and the butterflies settle down as the muscles low in my stomach start to tighten. Too soon he lifts his head, and I see his eyes cutting over to the car and then back again, letting me know that he’s stopping because of Wes. I nod subtly and feel a smile growing on my tingling lips.
“How does your week look?” he asks taking a step back. “Would you like to do something one night after work?”
“Sure,” I tell him, excited at the prospect of seeing him again so soon and hoping to get some alone time.
“How about Thursday?”
“Thursday works.”
“It’s a plan,” he says. “I’ll call you.”
“Sounds good.”
Then he waves and flashes his bright grin at me before he returns to the car.
I walk into my cool entryway on a cloud. I’m really liking Ryan. I can feel it. Just when I thought I’d relegated all hope to the very back recesses of a dark and empty closet, I surprise myself by yanking the door wide open and letting in the light. Maybe the other shoe won’t drop. Maybe a little optimism won’t jinx things.
I set my bag down on the kitchen table and catch sight of Tiger racing through the doorway. He latches onto my ankle and then steps back to sit down and look up at me. I laugh and pick him up, holding his soft, furry little weight in my arms. He purrs and blinks at me.
I’m in a good mood the rest of the evening. After showering and grabbing a bowl of cereal for dinner because I’m too tired to make anything else, I’ve nearly forgotten the message I left for Katie. She finally returns my call after ten that evening
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“Why are you whispering?”
“I waited until Mike was asleep to call you.”
“Oh.” Katie is quiet on her end. “Well, I’m glad you’re okay.”
“I haven’t talk to him about anything,” she tells me with a hesitant tone.
I sit up in bed, startling Tiger, who jumps to the floor. “I’m not judging you, Katie. What you do is up to you.”
“Have you talked to Bryn?” she asks.
“No. I haven’t really been in the mood to talk to her.”
More silence from her end. I’m trying to think of something to say that will make her feel better, or at least make things okay with us.
“I’m pregnant, Andy.”
I inhale sharply. “What?”
“I’m pregnant.”
“Oh wow,” I say. “How long have you known?”
“I took a test a couple of days ago.”
“You didn’t say anything yesterday.”
“I haven’t told anyone. Mike doesn’t even know yet. We didn’t plan it or anything.”
“Have you seen your doctor?”
“No.”
“Are you sure you’re pregnant?”
“I took a lot of tests once the first one turned positive, and I can feel it. I am.”
“Wow,” I say again, not really sure how I’m supposed to react and wondering if I should congratulate her. “What are you going to do?” I finally ask.
“I was actually happy when I found out. I was just waiting for the right time to tell Mike.”
“Does he want a baby?”
I hear her sigh. “We’d planned on having kids in the future. I thought he’d be surprised and maybe taken aback, but happy overall. Now, I don’t know.”
I rub my hands over my face. “I’m so sorry about yesterday. I probably shouldn’t have said anything. If I had known...”
She interrupts me, “Do you want to hear something awful? I considered telling him about the baby as a way to trap him into staying with me. Can you believe that?”
When I don’t answer because I don’t know what to say, she continues.
“I know what you’d do if you were me,” she says quietly. “You’d confront him about Bryn, kick him out of the house, tell him about the baby, and in the same breath tell him to go to hell.”
I can’t help but laugh. “That’s me, kicking ass and taking names.”
Katie laughs, too. “You would though.”
“I don’t know. I talk a good game, but I’m the one who’s usually alone when everyone else is in a relationship. I’m not sure my example is a good one to follow.”
Suddenly she blurts out, “I’m so angry at him. This could be such an amazing time for us, and he’s wrecked it.”
Because I helped with the wreckage, I find myself apologizing and then trying to look on the bright side. “It’s not wrecked. You guys definitely need to do some serious talking. But I can be happy about the baby, right? You’re going to be a mom. That’s pretty incredible.”
“Yeah, it is,” she replies, her voice sounding strained now, like she’s trying to hold back tears.
“I can help you, you know? I’m a great babysitter. I babysat for my sister all the time growing up.”
“Careful what you offer. I’ll likely take you up on it.”
“I don’t offer what I can’t deliver.”
“I had a glass of wine when we went to Café Blue,” she says.
“What?”
“I was pregnant then, and I had a glass of wine.”
“Did you know you were pregnant?”
“No.”
“Then it doesn’t count. Besides, our mothers smoked and drank and did god knows what else when they were pregnant with us. We’re not too screwed up.”
“Speak for yourself.”
“You’re not screwed up. You’re going to be a great mom.”
“I guess. I have my first OB appointment this week.”
I try to do some quick math in my head. “So, you’ll be due sometime in the spring. That’s a perfect time to be on maternity leave.”
She laughs. “You’re way ahead of me. I’m going day by day with this.”
“Good idea. One day at a time,” I assure her, but I feel dazed. Katie, who I’ve known since freshman year of college, is going to be a mom. “It’s going to be fine,” I tell her.
“How do you know?”
“Because I know you.”
“That doesn’t help.”
“I know. But it’s still true.”
She sighs. “I’d better go. I’m always exhausted these days. I can hardly keep my eyes open past nine.”
“I think that’s pretty normal. Call me tomorrow, okay?”
“Okay.”
“Congratulations.”
“Thanks.”
I hang up the phone and stare off at nothing. I feel too shell-shocked to concentrate on my book anymore. Tiger jumps back up and nudges his head into the palm of my hand. I give him what he wants, and he turns into a purring machine. I feel like calling my mother, but it’s long past my parents’ usual bedtime. I feel too restless to stay in bed any longer.
I slip out of bed, walk downstairs to the living room with Tiger trailing at my heels, and turn on the television. After flipping through the channels, I land on a very familiar black and white courtroom scene staring Gregory Peck. I stay up long past midnight watching To Kill A Mockingbird, completely engrossed in the story I have admired since childhood. I haven’t turned on the lights, and bright images projected from the television dance across the walls.
When the movie ends, I’m finally ready for the day to be over.
twelve
“Running late this morning,” Joan says as I buzz past her. Staying up late to watch a movie means I practically needed a crowbar to pry me out of bed this morning. I also have a strange looking red mark with uneven edges in the middle of my forehead. I’m guessing it’s a spot I missed with the sun block yesterday, and it stings like crazy this morning. How did I miss the middle of my forehead? Now, every time I wrinkle it, which I’ve discovered I do with surprising frequency, I have a physical reminder of my day with Ryan.
Nate is back from paternity leave. When I arrive, he’s already sitting at his desk across from mine. I drop my purse and laptop bag in a heap by my chair. “Hey,” I say by way of a greeting.
“Hey, yourself.” He’s dressed in his usual uniform of khaki shorts, Birkenstocks, and a T-shirt with an interesting saying. Today it reads, Support human cloning. Two heads are better than one. He says he gets them from an uncle who owns a T-shirt shop near the beach on Cape Cod.
“How was the rest of your vacation?” I ask.
“This is my vacation.” He smirks, reclining in his chair.
I wrinkle my brow in confusion, wincing as it pinches me.
“What’s on your forehead?” he asks, squinting at it.
“Missed a spot with the sun block.”
This seems to amuse him.
“What do you mean your vacation starts now?” I ask.
“If you were a parent, you’d understand.” He glances around and smiles. “I never realized how peaceful and quiet it is here.”
“You’ve only been a parent for two weeks.”
“Exactly.” He nods solemnly. “So, have you heard anything more on the buyout?” he asks, running a hand through his thinning auburn hair.
I relate to him what Karthik told me about the halting of future project work. This disturbs Nate, just as it did me when I first heard it. Now though, I’m pretty well resigned to finding a new job.
“I need to talk to Rob about this,” he comments.
“We could approach him together,” I suggest. “Kill two Rob conversations with one stone.”
He agrees. I do not tell him that I’ve sent my resumé to a recruiter
and that the recruiter, Maryanne, a very nice woman I have worked with in the past, has already left me a message this morning asking me to call her. Nate is my friend, but he is also an employee of a company I may decide to leave. Telling anyone of my plans would not be wise.
Nate volunteers to do reconnaissance on Rob’s office. Peering down the hallway, he sees that the office light is on, and he motions for me to follow him.
Nate dwarfs me in the open office doorway where we pause, waiting to be noticed by Rob who is busily banging away on his keyboard. I see that he’s wearing a neatly pressed blue dress shirt this morning, which is unusual for him. Nate discreetly clears his throat, and Rob’s fingers stop as he turns toward us.
“Uh oh,” Rob says, narrowing his eyes at us. “This looks like trouble.” Then he grins.
Since I’m the one with the information, I step into the office first. “Can we talk to you for a minute?”
He checks his watch. “That’s about all the time I have before my next meeting. What’s up?”
Nate remains behind me in the doorway as I explain for the second time today what Karthik told me. When I finish, Rob presses his lips together in a straight line, stands up, and snaps his laptop shut. This is when I notice that his usual ill-fitting jeans are gone, and ill-fitting khaki slacks are in their place. He is uncharacteristically dressed up today.
“I haven’t heard that all future project work is cancelled... exactly,” he begins, seeming to choose his words carefully. “My understanding is that it’s simply up in the air while they decide how they want to proceed. They’re going to merge groups and shift some project work around. That’s what I know at this point. But still, nothing is set in stone.”
“What does ‘shifting projects around’ mean?” Nate asks, obviously concerned.
Rob shrugs. “Not sure yet. Believe me, if I knew anything that affected you two I would tell you. For now, there’s certainly plenty of work that needs doing. Speaking of which, I’ve got to have those white papers this week, Andrea.”
“You’ll have them,” I say.
“Good. I’ve got to run. How’s the baby?” he asks Nate. Then he listens with half an ear to Nate’s reply before swiftly moving past us and heading down the hall.