A Life More Complete(87)
I’m beginning to regret my blurt it out method. It’s not something I’m proud of, yet my skills in articulation are severely lacking.
“Okay,” she says. “Well, I’m sure you are aware of your rights by law. If you have any questions regarding your FMLA or your health insurance you can contact H.R. Michael deals with the insurance end of it, so it would be best to speak with him about adding the baby to your policy. We do not have paid leave here, but you are able to use any accrued paid time off you may have available to you. When you do return to work you’ll still be expected to maintain the same level of work ethic that you...” she fades and then takes a deep breath. Running her hands through her hair she looks at me sympathetically. “I’m sorry. I’m being insensitive. I’ve never dealt with a situation like this where I actually like the person or where I’m truly happy for them. Congratulations to you and Tyler. I wish you the best.”
Ellie leaves her chair and walks over and pulls me into an embrace. She’s stiff and stands a little too far from my body for it to be meaningful, but I understand the gesture. It’s hard for Ellie and this is her attempt at kindness.
I leave Ellie’s office with a spring in my step. Two for two not so bad. Maybe this benefit-of-the- doubt thing is something I should add to my everyday life.
I text Bob as soon as my butt hits my desk chair.
Me: Um, she was totally cool. A non-issue.
Bob: Told you.
Me: My shirtsleeve got caught on the door. At least I didn’t fall.
Bob: That’s my girl. Nothing like making an ass of yourself. Now that you’ve told everyone maybe you should tell Ben?
Me: Maybe.
Bob: What do you mean maybe? Just tell him. Are you going to avoid him forever?
Me: No
Bob: Stop trying to end the conversation with one word answers. You don’t scare me. TELL HIM!
Me: No yelling. Can I text him?
Bob: You can’t be serious...
Me: I am.
Bob: NO! Yes, I’m yelling. Meet him for dinner or something. He deserves it.
Me: FINE! I’ll stop by his office on my way home today. Happy now?
Bob: Yes
Me: I gotta go. Live you! XOXO
Bob: Live you, too.
Me: Damn phone
My next stop is Melinda’s office. She’s on the phone and I catch her off guard. She quickly spins her chair around to look at me and the smile drops from her face. When I walked up she was doing her usually flirty laugh. It’s borderline obnoxious, but who am I to judge her methods. She’s scored more guys with it than I could if I had showed up to a bar topless. She lowers her voice slightly and begins to respond in one word answers; ending the call quickly.
“Who was that?” I ask.
“Just someone I went on a date with. No biggie,” she says nonchalantly, flipping her hand at the phone. “How’d it go with Ellie? Guessing she didn’t fire you.”
“Nope. Actually she was totally fine with it. Really nice. Strange, huh?”
“That’s good. Now you can stop stressing about it,” Melinda says. She’s coming across distracted, which isn’t that unusual. The strange part is that she has failed to give me any information on her most recent date. She loves to talk about them, brag about them and also fill me in on all the gory details that no one should be privy to. But today, she’s a closed book.
“At least now I can walk around with my pants unbuttoned and have a legitimate excuse,” I add to gage her response. Knowing Melinda, she’ll quip back with a joke.
“That’s true,” is all she says.
I leave her office feeling like I came in during the middle of a movie. Something is bothering her, but I don’t want to press the issue. Especially if it’s something she’s not comfortable sharing. Melinda shares everything, so it must be intensely private for her not to say anything.
As much as Bob had me convinced to tell Ben, I head home straight from work. I arrive home to an empty house. I call Tyler but his phone goes straight to voicemail. I can’t remember if he is in court today, so I call back again. Then I send a text. Somehow now that I’m pregnant my need to know where he is at all times doesn’t seem as ridiculous. I put a calendar up on the wall in our kitchen and asked him to write down his court days, but he dismissed me as if I were a mother asking her teenager to give up his nightly whereabouts.
My phone begins to ring a few minutes later while I’m microwaving leftover spaghetti from our dinner out last night. I grab the phone assuming it’s Tyler and get the shock my life. My screen lights up with the name “Mom”.