I prefer to get in early and start my day before there are too many demands on my time. Meaning employees who need something. I am a people person, but too many years in HR have jaded me towards my fellow humans. I studied art at the Rhode Island School of Design, like my brother. When I had a hard time breaking in with an entry level job, I settled on the easy path. Ryan went to New York, which helped his career immensely. I wanted to stay home and eat lobster and go to the beach. How we pay for our youthful choices.
My e-mail is chock full of issues today. More complaints and confusion regarding the changes in the dental plan. Not only is it uncomplicated, but what the hell is wrong with people’s teeth? I am forty-six and eat all sorts of crap, brush once a day and never floss. And I have ZERO cavities. Never mind all these other procedures I don’t understand. I have heard of a root canal, but it still sounds to me like somewhere Steve would search for creatures to dissect.
Then there’s the kids with braces! People call me a crazy cat lady, but at least I don’t have to spend a fortune on wire for Blue’s and Jewel’s mouths. No college fund, either.
I hear a clatter in the cube outside my office. My junior recruiter is in.
“Hey, Rebecca. Good morning!” I don’t like a cheerful Cecilia. Not that I liked the conniving, manipulative, lying version better. But this metamorphosis is bizarre. She must be on drugs. Legal or illegal. Or she was abducted by aliens and they did a brain probe instead of the anal variety. Then again, knowing Cecilia…Sigh. Nope, not going there.
“Hi, Cecilia. How was your night?”
The black spikes still stick up all over her head, but her demeanor has softened considerably. She also doesn’t seem to be as quick to sleep with every man that breathes. Poor Claire. Cecilia was screwing her new boyfriend last year and none of us had any idea. Apparently Cecilia’s experience with Nathan (and the subsequent falling out at work) left her so distraught that she decided to do a complete turnaround. I heard she went to one of those New Agey sweat lodges. The ones where you find yourself by sitting in a sauna until a magic coyote says you had a terrible mother. Apparently, you then feel better and love everyone. Even the guy who made you shell out four hundred bucks.
“…and then I got home from volunteering at the Food Bank and I saw a lost dog in my apartment complex. Would you believe people could be so lax with their animals?” She shakes her head and not a single ironclad thorn moves.
“Yeah, well there are all sorts of loonies out there.”
Claire inserts herself in the conversation and my office, brushing past Cecilia. “Oh, you and your loonies. You know they are properly called whack-jobs.”
“Hi, Claire. You look so pretty today. Love those shoes!” Cecilia looks like she wants to hug her. I guess when you are also caught sleeping with one of the IT staff to get access to personal company information AND you somehow don’t get fired, you are pretty grateful and repentant. Yes, Cecilia had multiple indiscretions last year. Fortunately our former IT director, Justin, figured out her scheming ways.
Claire turns back towards Cecilia and replies, “Oh, thanks. Did you need to meet with Rebecca? I have something I need to go over with her.”
Cecilia shrinks her way out the door, but still hanging onto the doorframe with boney witch hands. I could be nicer, but seriously I think she was screwing Tim, our CEO, too. How else does a major scandal erupt in a promotion? Justin is also a possibility on her list of office liaisons. He is way too hot to be completely innocent. But since he quit and moved away a couple of months ago, that one will likely remain a mystery.
“No problem, Claire.” She casts her eyes down to the floor.
Claire sighs and says, “Cecilia, you don’t need to continue with this overly conciliatory tone you have with me. It’s okay now. Nathan was a horrible person and we all learned valuable lessons. Like not to date Nathan. And that Google is your friend. I’m very happy with Brandon. You did me a favor. Let it go. Be normal.”
I add, “Yes, let’s all be normal. Like Claire.” Claire narrows her eyes at me.
Cecilia says, “I’m sorry. Oh, haha…I guess that’s apologizing again, but I do feel terrible about everything. I was so out of control with men. I’m in a much better place now.” She bites her lip and lowers her voice.
“But seriously. THREE women. At the same time! On my birthday. Not including me. Or you. Or anyone we know. He isn’t Hugh Hefner. I had to buy a new kitchen table. And frankly, he has old junk.” She immediately covers her mouth. “Sorry, Rebecca!”
“Why do I deserve an apology?” What the hell is she talking about? I don’t have any junk. Or maybe I do. I am never sure of the definitions of these ridiculous terms young people use.
“Because of Steve.” I can barely hear her as she half mouths the words.
Claire is cackling in the corner. Whatever. Brandon’s junk will get old, too. I glare at Claire and turn to Cecilia. “Oh, yes. The aging scrap heap between my boyfriend’s legs.” I shake my head to try to dislodge the crazy. “I am not at all insulted by the ‘junk’ comment. We try to do it in the dark. Helps a lot.” I wink at Cecilia, who gasps and turns to leave. “Now go try to find some people to work here. Preferably not recruited from Craigslist or out of prison.”
After the door is safely closed, Claire collapses into my guest chair and doubles over in laughter. She wipes at her heavily made-up eyes.
“You’re just giddy because you’re in love.”
She regains her composure and her smile turns to a frown, complete with a wrinkled forehead. “Aren’t you in love, too?” When I don’t respond immediately, she adds, “What happened? Wait, is this an Outlook meeting? I have a feeling we need lots of time.”
Claire makes fun of me for scheduling everything as an Outlook meeting, but we have managed to solve an awful lot of personal problems on the clock this way. Otherwise all the disgruntled smokers, eaters and shitters would be at the door vying for my attention.
“Oh, we do, my little friend. Sit down. Would you like a blanket to keep your legs warm? That skirt is awfully short.”
“Haha…no, I’m good. So what the hell is going on?” She crosses her leg to reveal another pair of ridiculously high heels for the office. Purple glitter?
“Are those the shoes you wore that time you—”
“Crashed into High Fidelity? Yep.” She grins and nods her head.
“Wow, you’re brave wearing those to work.” Claire wore these shoes to a Meetup event at Lorenzo’s, and danced directly into the band and knocked herself out. “We have stairs in this building. Please take the elevator. I don’t want to have to fill out an incident report.”
“I’m trying to dress young and hip.” She pauses. “Both for my new job and my very young and hot fiancé.”
Claire’s fiancé, Brandon, is eight years her junior, and last year she moved to the editorial department. She’s taking online classes at George Washington University to get a master’s degree in publishing. And planning a wedding. And trying to adopt a baby. I am expecting a meltdown, and if I don’t share my problems soon, hers will take over our friendship again.
I begin to narrate my night with Steve and the Elsa/house dilemma.
“This is huge for you! Now you’ll be forced to spend time at his house. I think it’s great.”
I rub my temples and reply, “It’s great? Really? I looked up that dog breed. They’re not tiny and have you seen the fur?” I swivel my computer monitor and show her a picture of the average adult American Eskimo.
“They’re cute. They look like they’re always smiling.” I should have known not to expect sympathy from a dog lover.
“I have a feeling the dog will be the only one smiling.” And Noreen. On every wall and surface in the house.
“Rebecca, dogs are lovable companions. You like Dixie, don’t you?”
Dixie is Claire’s mini dachshund, and has served as the redirection of her maternal instinct for the past couple of years.
“Aren’
t you worried that Dixie could be a problem when you and Brandon adopt a baby?”
“WHAT?! Dixie is a very sweet dog. I am actually working on Brandon to let me get a friend for her, so she won’t be sad when we have a baby.” Claire pouts.
“You need that like you need a fork in your eye. If you want to just put some extra fur on a stuffed animal you could probably trick her into thinking she has a real dog buddy. I’ll have enough soon to make a full body dog toupee.” I imagine getting out of bed and stepping into a pool of soft, white fur due to the overnight shedding. I’ll be forced to attach a vacuum to my hip, like a fanny pack. Or on my back, like a Camelbak.
Claire rolls her eyes. “The dog isn’t the real problem, is it?”
I lounge back in my chair and begin to spin in a circle, hoping to shake off my frustration.
“Stop that! I could throw up just watching you.”
I come to an abrupt stop and lay my head on my desk. I reply into my folded arms with a muffled voice. “I know that’s not the real problem.” I slowly raise my head. “Claire, that house is scary.”
She leans forward and rests her hand on my arm. “Rebecca, you need to talk to him about this. You’re avoiding the issue.”
“You avoided the issue when Nathan wouldn’t let you come to his house last year.”
“Yes, I was clearly delusional, but we dated for a very short time. We didn’t even sleep together. Thank God—I would have caught some kind of creeping crud on my...” She shudders and continues. “Anyway, you can’t compare. I wised up and picked the right guy. Steve is your right guy, but you have work to do.”
“I’ve only been there twice. The night after the party last year. It was very late.” I look down and play with the diamond cluster ring on my right hand. A right hand diamond. The kind for single women who will never get married. “I didn’t notice the pictures at first. It was dark. I spent the night and left in a rush in the morning. The bathroom was bizarre.”
“Is it that bad?”
“It is, but that night I didn’t know the extent of it. I saw some pictures on the wall, but I thought it could be his sister or maybe Megan. I tried not to let him see me looking. Then we stopped there one other time.”
“The time you had to take him to the airport for that trip for school?”
“Yes, the bug studying convention. Or something like that. But yes, we had to stop at his house because he forgot something. While he was rooting around for his lost insect collection instruments, I was able to see the living room in the daylight. The decorating is crazy too, but I couldn’t take my eyes off the pictures. Wedding. Vacation. Pictures of Noreen holding Megan. The three of them together playing in the yard. On bikes.”
“Didn’t she die on a bike? I can’t believe he hasn’t made any changes.”
Noreen was killed by a drunk driver, while out riding her road bike at dusk. This is all I know, and Claire is the only person outside my family I’ve told. Until Claire brought it up at lunch in front of Gina.
“There was one picture in the corner that looked like it had a little light shining on it, like a shrine. I know people do things like that, but it feels like a red flag. Like he isn’t ready for a relationship.”
Claire wrinkled her forehead. “Maybe you should talk to a grief counselor. Or someone who knows him better? Like a family member. Or a friend. Does he have any guy friends in Meetup?”
“Yeah, he does. But you know how men are? I think most of his friends are activity buddies. He does talk to Tony, since they’re professors at the same school.”
“I can’t believe you don’t have a problem with him talking to Tony, since you dated him. Or Steve doesn’t have a problem? Why does no one have a problem?”
“Tony and I only dated for a month, and that was a few years ago. Besides, at our age, there are limited fish in the dating pool. We keep switching off until we pair up the right away. Like musical chairs. With Steve, the music has stopped. At least I thought so.” I bite my fingernail.
“I get it. My dating pool was full of sharks and things that bite your toes.” The corners of her mouth turn up slightly, and then droop. “I wish I could think of something to help you, but this is out of my element. Try talking to Tony. Maybe he can give you some insight into Steve’s head.”
“When we’re together, Steve’s head is definitely with me. At his house, he becomes a different guy. Your home is a reflection of who you are, and his home says ‘grieving widower.’ I can’t reconcile the two Steves in my mind.”
“But you love him. So you have to see this through and figure things out. You aren’t moving in. Just spending more time there. You have your place to retreat to, and our door is always open. Dixie would love to see you.” She smiles and stands up.
“I’ll talk to Tony. We have bowling tonight, but Steve will be there. I’ll try to get him on the side. Plan to meet for coffee one morning or something.”
Claire stands in the doorway and whispers, “Just make sure it doesn’t look like you’re cheating with an ex.” She glances around, presumably to ensure Cecilia didn’t hear.
My heartbeat races, and images of Luke pop into my head.
I open my mouth to tell Claire I have more to share, but stop myself. “You’re right, I would never want that.”
She sashays out the door and closes it behind her. I wish I could knock some sense into my crazy brain. Just because I’m stressed about my situation with Steve doesn’t mean Luke is a factor. We broke up five years ago and he hasn’t contacted me since he got back to town. Steve and I are fine. I’m an adult. I can handle a dog and a few pictures of a…
I’m startled by a tap on my door. “Come in!”
“Hey, so how was your anniversary?” Gina winks and grins.
“It was nice. We had dinner at The Crab Cracker and he came back to my place. I’m exhausted.”
“Well, I bet it’s a good exhausted.” More winking. Who winks anymore? Maybe it’s a New Jersey thing. Now that I think about it, Tony winks, too. But Steve doesn’t. Obviously all people from New Jersey aren’t the same. I should be sensitive to this considering all the stereotyping my family receives here in the south. My brother hates seafood, and he gets mad when people say that makes him a shitty New Englander.
I glance up at Gina and respond, “It is, but there’s a problem.” I’m trying to print something while we’re talking, and the damn printer is offline. Great, now it’s jammed. “Son of a bitch! Cecilia!” I try to peer out the door to her desk. “Is she out there? She should know how to fix these things. I’m sure Tim fucked his up constantly.”
“I don’t see her. It can wait a minute. So, what happened last night? I was wondering if he was going to pop the question.” Gina’s brown eyes are shiny and wide.
“Oh, he popped a question alright. Fuck, now the light is blinking. I swear I am going to end up smashing this thing over my head and wearing it as a hat on the way to the nuthouse!” I sigh and fling myself back in my chair.
“Would you stop with that? I’ll call Amanda. She’s more level-headed. You don’t need Cecilia. So what happen—?”
“Who needs me? Is something wrong, Rebecca?” Cecilia pokes her prickly head in my door.
“Can you please turn that music down? And yes, my printer is jammed.”
“I’m sorry. Let me see if I can fix it.” She turns off her iPod and tosses it on my desk. She listens to the strangest music. I know I am often accused by people (Claire) of being stuck in the eighties, but some of Cecilia’s music isn’t even on the radio, and the songs have names that are nowhere in the lyrics. For instance, this one could be entitled “Chickens on Parade,” and the chorus is…actually there are no choruses. They’re long stories with some tortured young guy singing about…
Now Cecilia has breezed past Gina and is fiddling with my printer. Gina grabs me to finish our conversation in the hall. “I need another cup of coffee, Rebecca. Walk with me. I have a few more questions about the dental plan.” Cecili
a smiles sympathetically, as if it’s sad to be old with your teeth falling out of your head.
We walk down the hall to the break room. “Soooo?”
We stop near an empty conference room. The coast is clear. “Steve’s stepdaughter has a dog. Her loser father, and his bigger loser wife, can’t deal with the dog anymore because they have triplets. So Steve is taking the dog.”
“Oh, that’s all? That’s not a big deal. I have three dogs. Dogs are cute and fun.”
“You don’t get it. Now I’ll have to spend time at Steve’s house, if I want to see him.”
Gina’s face looks blank and then the light bulb goes off. “Oh, the pictures. The wife.” She touches my arm. “Rebecca, you have to face this issue. The dog is a sign from God. Like an omen, but a good one. Not like the movie. Though there was a big dog in that movie.”
I smile at her little joke. These Catholic friends of mine are always thinking everything is an omen. Unfortunately, I worry it’s exactly like the movie.
CHAPTER FOUR
My uneventful afternoon turns tumultuous when an overweight employee named Barbara sends me a scathing e-mail accusing Tim of making derogatory comments about her size. What an idiot, and is he kidding? Not only is he the freaking CEO, he also appears to be about eight months pregnant, possibly with multiples. I march down the hall to his office.
“Hi, Amanda. Is he in?” I point at the door and attempt to conceal my look of disgust.
She jumps at my stern tone. Claire says Amanda reminds her of a Disney princess character. “Yes, he’s here. You can just knock.”
“Thanks.” I turn to knock and the door opens. Tim almost runs into me.
“Oh, there you are. We have a little problem.”
“You think?” I block his path and he retreats back into his office. I follow and shut the door. Amanda jumps again.
“Tim, that woman used three southern girl sayings that mean we, really YOU, are screwed. “Hell, no. Bless his heart. And I’m getting a lawyer.”
“How is getting a lawyer southern?”
“It’s not, but that’s beside the point. She is really angry.”
Afraid of Her Shadow Page 3