A Life More Complete(117)
“I don’t know. I don’t know,” repeating myself in hopes it will hit me out of the blue. “I haven’t even talked to him since he shit all over our future. Great bombshell to drop when this kid is gonna be here in a few weeks.”
“I know this really sucks and it doesn’t matter what I say, but don’t you think it’s over?”
“Yeah, probably.”
“Probably isn’t certain.”
I walk into the office and past Maggie without even so much as a greeting. If I’m trying to keep my personal problems separate from my professional life I’m doing a piss poor job. I stall out a few feet after the reception desk and say, “ Good morning, Maggie.”
“Good morning, Kristin. You okay?” she asks with genuine concern.
“Yeah, Maggie. Just tired.” It wasn’t a lie. I am tired, just not the way I mean it to be perceived.
Just seconds after finding refuge in my office Melinda comes in. I roll my eyes, not because I don’t want to see her but because I can’t rehash it one more time.
“You talk to Tyler yet?” she asks and I can feel the stomach acid rise up in my throat.
“No,” I reply, grabbing a granola bar from my desk drawer. Hoping food will keep the urge to vomit at bay.
“Do you think he’s cheating?”
“I don’t know. Bob asked me the same thing. That depends on your definition of cheating, I guess. Were his hands all over her body? Yes. Did he kiss her? Yes. Do I think he’s sleeping with someone else, I don’t know? But it sure looked like it.”
“Did you get a good look at her?”
The back of her perfectly coiffed trendy haircut is burned into my mind. “I didn’t see her face. Just the back of her. Her and her perfectly tiny ass. It’s no wonder he cheated, mine’s the size of a f*cking Buick,” I rant, sounding like I’m feeling sorry for myself.
“Bullshit. You look amazing and I’m not just saying that. If Tyler wasn’t such a dick he’d recognize that, too. Maybe it’s better not knowing. I’m not sure I could keep myself sane if I knew.”
“Agreed. Wanna get lunch today? Why not pack on a few more pounds?”
“Sure. But this the last compliment I’m giving you, you look great. From behind you’d never know you’re pregnant. Now suck it up, fatty,” she says with a smile on her face.
“Thanks, Mel.”
Immediately following Melinda’s departure Ellie pops in and asks to speak to me. What is with these work folks and their incessant badgering? Don’t they know I need to update my Facebook status and creep on other people’s pages followed by a lengthy internal debate about whether I want tacos or Chinese food for lunch? It’s mind-numbingly perfect. But of course my distraction techniques will only get me so far in forgetting the gripping depression that seeps in whenever I stop thinking of anything else.
Ellie’s face is stone serious when she asks me to meet her in her office. Great. I’m sure I effed something up, but what else is new. I quickly rifle through my brain to figure exactly what I did. Any half-assed work lately? Nope. Any unanswered emails? Not that I can recall. Any recent public humiliation? Besides my own, none. I give up. I tag along behind her following her into her spacious and perfectly organized office. Ellie shuffles through a stack of paperwork on her desk before she pulls out a manila envelope from the bottom of the pile.
“This came to me this morning,” she says. Hardly listening, all I can think is, Geez. That’s a lot of crap on your desk. Something that came this morning was already buried under mounds of papers. Her job really does suck.
“What is it?” I ask annoyed with her guessing game tactic. She holds the envelope out and I take it from her hand. The seal has been broken and the front is addressed to Ellie Regan P.R c/o Ellie Regan. I pull from the envelope a stack of papers and before I can even look my heart skips a beat and my palms grow sweaty. The only thought that pops into my head is divorce papers. Tyler is leaving me and because he is such an * he had me served at work. When I flip the papers over and take them in I should think myself lucky if they were divorce papers. They’re far worse. Divorce would look like kittens prancing through a meadow. This looks like kittens being taken down by volcanic lava.
I can’t speak. Everything in my body goes numb as I fall into the chair in front of Ellie’s desk. I flip through the large, grainy pictures, but I know exactly who the people are. I don’t need to focus on them or squint. The blonde from the party. His arms around her. Her head resting against his chest. Leaving a hotel room. His lips on hers. I begin to feel dizzy, the room spins and I steady myself with the arms of the chair. I feel physically ill. I can’t even conjure up the tears that should be looming.