Sometime Soon (15 page)

“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.

“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.

This is bad, I think, as I walk
back to my desk. Rob feels the need to dress to impress, and he hasn’t once
mentioned
The Bachelor
or joked around with us today. Granted, he was in
a rush, but Rob is hardly ever completely serious about anything.

“Well, that wasn’t exactly the
‘Don’t worry everything is going to be fine’ I was looking for,” Nate declares,
setting himself down dejectedly in his chair.

His naïveté suddenly bothers me.

“I’ve been here for nearly four
years working my butt off,” he adds.

I eye him skeptically. 

He gives me a half smile. “Well,
most of the time anyway. Do you think they’re going to lay us off?”

I feel the need to feed him a dose of
reality. “Nate, everyone thinks they work hard and therefore deserve something
in return. But come on. You’ve worked in the corporate world long enough to
realize that expecting anything other than your paycheck is probably expecting
too much.”

He seems offended at this. “That’s
very cynical.”

“It is what it is,” I reply with a
shrug.

For the rest of the day, Nate
alternates between moping and yawning. At lunchtime, I head outside with my
cell phone to call back the recruiter. It’s another stiflingly hot day, and I
try to locate a bench outside our office building that’s shielded from the sun
and the street noise. Once I get her on the phone, we talk about my salary and
distance requirements. I do not want to spend hours each day in my car. Despite
the terrible economy, Maryanne seems optimistic that she can get me some
interviews soon.

When I go back inside, I finish the
last of the white papers for which I actually have technical information, and I
email them to Rob. He has to approve them and post them on the internal web
site so that the sales people can grab them.

I find myself checking my cell
phone throughout the day. Since Ryan has previously called me during the work
day, I think that he might have tried reaching me today. But he hasn’t. Instead,
Laura calls at the end of the day as I’m packing up to go home.

“I need a big favor,” she begins.

“You never say hello to me when I
answer. You always just jump right in,” I complain.

“Hello, Andrea,” she says formally.

“Hello, Laura. How are you?”

“Terrible. That’s why I need a
favor.”

I smile at my cell phone. “Okay,
what is it?”

“I need you to go see a band with
Mom and Dad on Thursday night.”

“You mean one of the bands you’re
checking out for the wedding?”

“Yes. I can’t make it, and it’s the
only time we can see them play in the next few months. I need you to be my ears
for me. I don’t trust Mom and Dad when it comes to the music. They would
resurrect Lawrence Welk if they could.”

She’s probably right about that.
“Why can’t you go?”

“I have a late afternoon closing in
the Berkshires. I’ll never make it back in time.”

“The Berkshires? Since when do you
drive hours to closings?”

“It’s for Jonathan’s great aunt.
She bought a place near Tanglewood with some friends. He asked me to do it as a
favor.”

“That’s some favor.”

“I know.”

“Why doesn’t Jonathan go? He must
care about the music.”

“Andy, they’re wedding bands. If
our choices were Stone Sour or Godsmack, he’d be there like a shot. But our
choices are Starry Night or J.B. And The Enthusiasts.”

“Who?” 

“Exactly. Can you help me out
here?”

“Okay, I’ll go. Oh, wait. I can’t.
I think I have a date.”

“You do? Did that Jason guy call
you?”

“He did, but it’s not with him.
It’s with Ryan. The guy that hit me with his car.”

“The one you went to the beach
with?”

“Yeah, but maybe I can change the
day. I’ll ask him when he calls and let you know.”

“Thanks. That would be great. But
don’t cancel or anything for me.”

“Don’t worry. I won’t.”

“You’re not looking for an excuse
to cancel? You must like him then.”

“Maybe. We’ll see.”

By Wednesday afternoon, I’m
weighing the rudeness of Ryan not having called yet, despite our imminent
Thursday plans. I feel sure that I’ll hear from him tonight, but in my opinion,
he really should have called earlier in the week to finalize our plans. Calling
him is not an option. He said he would call, and he should do as he says.

By nine that evening I still
haven’t heard from Ryan, and I find myself calling my parents to see what time
they want to meet on Thursday to see the wedding band. I actually feel foolish
for having expected Ryan to call just because he said he would. I let my guard
down. I always maintain a healthy skepticism when the words “I’ll call you”
spill out of a guy’s mouth, and this time should not have been any different.
Perhaps something unexpected came up and he’s no longer free? Even so, he
should have called to let me know.

I mope around for the rest of the
night. In addition to feeling disappointed for myself, I continue to mull over
Katie’s situation. I haven’t heard from Bryn, and I’m debating contacting her.
She hasn’t done anything directly to
me
. If I were being a good friend,
I would check up on her, right? I sigh with frustration. Maybe I’m just too
judgmental. Can I really hold a grudge against everyone whom I judge to be
inconsiderate? If so, I’ll have no one left.

I’ve spoken with Katie every day
this week. Her first obstetrician appointment is tomorrow, and she still hasn’t
confronted Mike about Bryn, nor has she told him about the baby. Instead, she
has started spying on him: checking his outgoing and incoming cell phone calls,
reading his texts, showing up at his office unannounced, and making references
to Bryn to gauge his reactions. All to no avail. I am strongly advising against
this plan. “Just talk to him,” I tell her repeatedly. But she continues to put
it off. She thinks that once everything is out in the open, her relationship
with Mike will change irrevocably, and not for the better. Of course, I can’t
claim to understand men at all. So, any advice I could offer isn’t worth much.

After work on Thursday, I arrive at
my parents’ house just before dinner, as requested. I stopped at home briefly
to change out of my shorts and short-sleeved sweater and into a sleeveless
dress. We’re all dressed up tonight since we’re crashing a black tie corporate
event being held at the Marriot Hotel about a half an hour away. In honor of my
presence at dinner, Mom serves some of my favorite dishes, telling me that I’m
too thin and I don’t eat enough.

Between bites, I fill Mom in on the
latest with Katie and Mike. She really is a good sounding board when it comes
to talking about my friends. It’s only when my own personal life is the topic
of conversation that I become uncomfortable. I also update them on the Napa
buyout of BTS. I actually have a job interview scheduled for next week. It’s
with a small local software company at their offices a few miles from where I
work now. The job itself and the salary especially don’t sound very promising.
But it will be good interview practice, and I can pop over on my lunch hour.