Queenie(28)
* * *
“Another black man died in America today,” I said to Darcy as I walked into the kitchen, blinking as my eyes adjusted to the bright light. “Police killed him.”
“Oh no, what was he doing?” she asked absentmindedly.
“What do you mean, ‘What was he doing?’ He wasn’t doing anything, he was driving.” The words burst from me. “And even if he was doing something, doesn’t mean he should be killed for it.”
“All right, calm down.” Darcy held her hands up. “Sorry, my mind was elsewhere. And I’m on your side here, I was just asking!”
“You asked a stupid question,” I snapped. “That sort of attitude is the problem.”
“Whoa, Queenie. It’s me you’re talking to?” Darcy frowned at me. “Remember? Darcy? Best friend? Annoyingly liberal?”
“I’m not calling you racist, I’m saying that if the thinking is that someone should be killed for doing something wrong, that thinking is dangerous,” I said. Why was I taking it out on her? “I’m going for a cigarette.” I left the kitchen before I said something I’d regret. I knew Darcy hadn’t meant it, and she was only guilty of it this one time, but I wished that well-meaning white liberals would think before they said things that they thought were perfectly innocent.
I put a cigarette in my mouth, patting down my pockets for a lighter. I looked across the outdoor smoking area to see who I could bother for one, and locked eyes with Ted. Excitement and guilt crept back in. Must summon nice memories of Tom when tempted by Ted.
He dropped the end of his cigarette to the ground and walked over. “You ran off the other day. Left me all alone. You forgot this too.” He lit another cigarette with a lighter, then, flame still burning, held it out for me.
“I can do it,” I said to him, reminding myself how stupid it would be to get sucked into something while I had a relationship to go back to.
I took the lighter from him, lit my cigarette, and inhaled too quickly and defiantly, so choked as too much smoke hit the back of my throat.
“All right, Ted?” A burly man in clothes that were all too tight nodded a hello at Ted as he walked past.
“All good, thanks, Gordon!” Ted waved, turning to stand next to me. He waited until the man was out of sight, then moved closer so that our arms were touching.
“Sorry, that’s my desk mate,” Ted said, running the hand that wasn’t next to mine through his thick hair. “How were the fireworks?”
“I think I lost my scarf, but otherwise, they were nice, thanks,” I replied, purposely avoiding eye contact. That’s where these men get me.
“The tartan one you have?” he asked.
“Yeah. No sentimental value, so it’s all good.”
“You know, I was going for dinner with my friends that night, but I wish I’d stayed with you,” he said, looking around and moving so that he was in front of me.
“Ah, that’s nice of you. I bet you had a nice time anyway.” I brushed over his comment. He moved closer to me.
“Not as nice a time as we could have had,” he growled quietly.
“Got to go!” I said, breaking away. Do not get sucked in, Queenie.
* * *
I got upstairs to an e-mail from Ted.
On Monday, 5th November, Noman, Ted <[email protected]> wrote at 11:04:
That was an abrupt ending. I like that shirt, by the way.
I flushed with what I tried to pretend wasn’t arousal, but my pretense wasn’t clever enough to fool my body because guilt soon followed. I sent a text to Tom.
Queenie
How are you?
On Monday, 5th November, Jenkins, Queenie <[email protected]> wrote at 11:26:
I’m probably making a fool of myself by saying this, because you’re probably only being a friendly colleague, but if you aren’t, it’s probably a bad idea to get involved with someone at work, don’t you think? We had a nice drink, and we should probably leave it at that.
I went to make a mint tea to calm myself down and came back to:
On Monday, 5th November, Noman, Ted <[email protected]> wrote at 11:30:
But I don’t want to leave it at that. Besides, I’m not one of those guys who wouldn’t respect you enough not to behave properly if things didn’t work out.
I decided to wait and see if Tom replied. If he didn’t reply by this evening, then maybe, just maybe, I could go for another drink with Ted.
On Monday, 5th November, Noman, Ted <[email protected]> wrote at 11:31:
I’m here if you want me.
On Monday, 5th November, Noman, Ted <[email protected]> wrote at 11:35:
When you want me.
On Monday, 5th November, Jenkins, Queenie <[email protected]> wrote at 18:03:
Darcy, I have a new promise to replace promise number four, which was: “Just forget men for a while, and use this break with Tom as a break from men.” The new promise is: “Forget men who you might want to get into something long-term with, but casual encounters are acceptable for as long as Tom isn’t replying.”
On Monday, 5th November, Betts, Darcy <[email protected]> wrote at 18:10: