by Anita Claire
He concentrates and purses his lips. “Sometimes you just need to ask the question. Many people don’t self-interrogate, or they may glaze over the answer in their mind never really tackling the true issue.” He finishes up by saying, “I don’t think there’s anything wrong with your code. My guess is the problem’s a bug in the library you’re using, or in the operating system.”
“Why would you go there? No one at my company is looking there.”
“The easiest answer is my gut.” My dad says.
Contemplating that answer, I probe by asking, “What really does that mean?”
By this time, my mom is up from her nap and has been listening to our conversation. “Your father has been doing this for a long time, over thirty years. When you’ve been programming that long, you’ve run into many different problems. People say it’s their gut, when it’s really their experience.”
My dad picks up from there. “In the past, I’ve run into problems that were lower down than the code. These lower down problems are insidious, they don’t necessarily show up like you would expect.” He scrunches up his eyebrows as he thinks. “The fact that problems show up intermittently makes me think you need to look lower down. I just have a feeling by what you are telling me that your guys are looking in the wrong place. Without looking at the code, I can’t tell you exactly where the problem is, but based on the little you are telling me, I would recommend looking in a different place, and that’s the most logical area to look.”
My mom raises her eyebrows, crosses her arms, and says, “Your company’s getting a lot of experience for free. Let’s see if they are smart enough to use it.”
My dad chuckles. “This reminds me of the story: Thomas Edison was brought into a company to troubleshoot a problem with a large generator. After reviewing the technical specifications on the generator, Edison picked up a piece of chalk and marked an X on the equipment saying, ‘This is where your problem is. That will be $50,000.’ The company manager responded, ‘Your charging $50,000 for a chalk X?’ Edison replied, ‘The chalk X is free, I'm charging you $50,000 to know where to put the X.’”
Chapter 35
When I get home, Cassie is sitting on the couch listening to music while paging through Vogue.
“Hey, how was brunch?” I cheerfully ask.
“It was just the old crowd of girls from high school. You know, same old, same old crap.” She couldn’t look more bored.
“But I thought you really liked that group of people?” I question, while sitting down on the couch near her.
She looks at me long and hard. “High school was a long time ago. Still, in a strange way they remind me of Cody’s friends. They have a very fixed view of the world. Everyone in that group must fit within their narrow constraints. They only associate with the other people in their small world, and are very harsh on everyone who falls outside of the clique.”
Really? You just figured this out now? Didn’t you see what a bunch of jerks they were when we were in high school? I sigh. “So, were you in the inside or the outside of the Cody’s clique.”
Cassie’s not one to contemplate or reflect. It’s easy to see she’s debating whether or not to share. Finally, she says, “Definitely in the inside of Cody’s group of friends. It was fun. I didn’t see how poisonous they could be. At the time, the things they said about people who were not in their elite circle were funny. Being in this clique, with his friends, made me feel important, special.”
Feeling a shaft of cold tingle down my back from what she just said, brings me back to my summer in London with Stephan’s friends rejecting me. Did it make them feel special to make me feel unwelcome?
“Then …” she squirms. It’s like she wants to come clean, but doesn’t really want to admit what happened. She looks at me and says, “Please don’t repeat this.”
Solemnly looking at her, I nod. “It’s between you and me.”
She stares into my eyes with sincerity. Then she looks down at her hands as she twists her fingers in her lap. “My relationship with Cody was messy. We both liked to spend money and party; we drank too much, did too many drugs, and had way too much recreational sex. It started out fun. As time went on it was so much easier to pop pills than deal with reality. We’d do wild things and never have to deal with any repercussions. Eventually, it hurt people.” She stops, looks into my eyes again, then she looks back down as she says in a very small voice, “At one party, I took too many pills and drank too much alcohol. After wandering away, I passed out in someone’s yard. In the morning, the homeowners called the police. My parents sent me to rehab. After getting clean, I tried to reconnect with Cody. My goal was for the two of us to live a cleaner, healthier life—no more drugs, less alcohol, less sleeping around. He thought I’d turned too suburban, too middle class. His rejection left me angry. Wanting to get back at him, I acted out and did some stupid things—burned too many bridges. He turned on me; his whole circle turned on me. I thought they were my friends, but they were loyal to him. I didn’t have anyone else to turn to in LA. I hadn’t been on a modeling call in a couple of years. I was left with no income and a really expensive life style. I started living with this … other guy … he was older, rich, he paid my bills, but it wasn’t a good situation. My brother came down to check on me. It wasn’t too hard for him to convince me to move back here.”
I had a feeling that things had gotten out of control in LA. Having no idea what to say to her, I grab her hand and squeeze it. She continues, looking down at our hands.
She looks back up and gives me a tight smile. She releases my hand, and continues with her story. “Getting together with the girls from high school, I can hear my LA friends … I mean Cody’s friends, making fun of them as being so middle class and suburban. At brunch today, I felt ridiculous being with them, wondering why I’m wasting my time. Then I’m thinking, I’m really no better than they are. Here I am, living where I grew up with no money, no idea what I’m going to do next. They’re all still living off their parents. None of them have really done anything for themselves.” She stops, looks at me as a tear runs down her cheek. She wipes it with the back of her hand. “I hate getting like this. It makes me long for the drugs.”
While listening to Cassie, it finally hits me—how much of life she’s already lived. Her experiences make me feel young, naive. I’ve spent the last six years in college, never running with a fast crowd. The fast crowd was never any more interested in me than I was interested in them. I’m just starting out, but I see a future. Contemplating what I should say, what I should do…. I end up going to what’s really troubling me. “Are you going to take drugs again?”
She looks at me horrified, shakes her head. “No, I’m capable of learning from my mistakes and drugs were a big mistake.”
Wondering if that’s the only lesson she learned from LA, we sit on the couch for a few more minutes. She’s done talking about her past. With a deep breath, I get up from the couch and give her eye contact. “When my friends get in this mood we have ice cream.” With my index finger up in warning, “No talk of diets.” Then I head into the kitchen. With a plan in place, I put the chocolate fudge sauce in the microwave, pull down two bowls, and grab the cinnamon caramel Marianna’s from the freezer. I carve out two big scoops. After the beeping stops, I pour on the hot fudge sauce. Grabbing both bowls, along with spoons, I head out to a dejected Cassie.
She smiles ruefully, and shakes her head. “I can’t eat that.”
Looking her square in the eyes,I say, “This my friend, is doctor’s orders—the best way to deal with the blues. If you don’t believe me, I’ll call my friend Olivia to confirm. She’s currently in med school.”
Cassie gives me a gentle smile and a small shrug of her shoulders as she takes the bowl. Reflectively, she scoops a spoonful of ice cream with hot fudge sauce slowly into her mouth. Closing her eyes, it’s obvious that she’s enjoying the taste. Opening up her eyes, she focuses on me, slowly smiles, points with her spoon. “You, m
y friend, are worldly beyond your years.” With a low chuckle, I reply, “I think, you are so wrong; I have so much to learn. But, thanks, Cas, that’s sweet.”
Chapter 36
Running late on Monday morning from my ice cream hangover, I jog onto the deck of the pool, grabbing a kickboard while on the move. Placing it by the end of lane five, I shake off my flip-flops and wait for the lane to clear before jumping in. Briefly looking around, I spot Zach resting at the end—lane eight. He doesn’t even notice that I spot him since he is checking me out, that is, checking out everything but my face. With a little saucy grin, I jump in the pool and swim a length. On the way back, my insecurities kick in as I wonder if he liked what he saw.
Later, while walking into work, I simultaneously check to see if Doctor Nate has sent me my daily text.
Close enough, I’m thoroughly a horseshoe champion.
Texting back, I write: You are thoroughly…. What’s the correct adjective I’m looking for?
Between Zach and Nate, I’m smiling big. I might not be getting any action, but sometimes just being noticed is fun.
While getting my morning yogurt and filling up my water bottle, Mario from the cafeteria smiles back. “Juliette, you are way too happy for a Monday morning.”
With a friendly smile, I say, “The real question is, will I still be happy by Friday afternoon.”
At my desk, I drop my backpack on the carpet while plopping down on my chair to check my work e-mail, while concurrently eating my yogurt. When my phone alarm dings, I’m off to the 8:00 a.m. meeting. Showing up five minutes before the meeting starts, I’m getting used to being the first person in the room. Flint is in town this week, he runs into the room eight minutes after the top of the hour, as he starts the meeting while still moving. I’m taking extra care with my notes today, in case Flint will want me to send them to him. Goldilocks now has a name. It’s Terri.
When it’s my turn, Flint just says, “Any update?”
With a negative shake of my head, I don’t even get a chance to utter a word before one of the New York sales guys starts arguing with Flint about how bad it looks that this problem is still happing. Knowing Mark worked all weekend, even though he told me I didn’t need to, makes me feel guilty for not being able to support my team better.
When I’m back at my desk, I start testing some of the code Mark asked me to work on. As the morning progresses, Roger doesn’t call me into his office, and I’m not sure if Flint wants my notes, but I’d rather err by e-mailing him the notes, instead of not sending them.
Finally, Mark pulls in. After giving him some time to get situated, I approach him about the conversation I had yesterday with my dad.
“Mark, I’ve been thinking about the problems we’re having with our software. We’ve spent a lot of time trying to tie down the problems, but we can’t seem to pinpoint them. Could it be that the issues are lower down, a bug in the OS or maybe even the libraries?”
Mark looks at me, takes a deep breath, and says, “I don’t have time today to be training you. The OS and libraries have been around for a long time, they’re stable.”
“Well, what we’re doing isn’t working. Is there a way for me to test to see if it’s at a layer deeper than where we’re focusing our energies?”
With an exasperated tone, Mark continues, “I don’t have time for this. I’ve given you what I need you to do. Please do it.”
Heading back to my desk, I’m wondering how to approach Mark again, or if there’s anyone else I can talk to about my dad’s hypothesis. If my dad’s right, the problem will never get solved if we’re looking in the wrong place.
Spending the morning working on what Mark wants me to work on, I’m looking forward to lunchtime. Hita and I head to the cafeteria. As we’re walking down the hall, I say, “I really need your opinion on something, will you take a walk around the building with me?”
She looks at me surprised. “Sure.”
As we walk around the building, I tell her about talking to my dad, and what he had to say. “I brought it up to Mark. He doesn’t want to look deeper in the stack. Who should I be talking to about this possible solution? Is it OK that I spoke to my dad about what we’re working on? Did I break my non-disclosure?”
Hita looks at me with her big dark eyes, slowly shaking her head and shrugging her shoulders.
I continue. “If my dad’s right, we’re never going to solve this doing what we’re currently doing.”
Hita finally responds. “I have no idea what you should do. If it was me, I’d approach Mark again. If he’s still not interested in talking to you, then you should bring it up at the bug meeting later today.” As we start walking back into the building, she puts her hand on my arm. “Juliette, I agree with you, I wouldn’t bring your dad into it.”
At lunch, I tell the girls about having breakfast with Zach and his friends, along with catching him checking me out.
“Now’s the time to make a move.” Caroline declares
My jaw clenches. “I’d rather have Zach make the first move. I’m not interested in getting ahead of him.”
Caroline gives me an exasperated look as she breathes out heavily. “Nothing’s going to happen unless you make it happen.”
“So, what do you propose I do?”
“Well, of course smile, flirt, and then hit on him.” She says in a matter of fact way.
“Hit on him?” I retort.
“Yeah, ask him out.” She declares.
My chest constricts. This guy is hot, but I really want it to be his idea to ask me out. With Caroline’s track record; she probably isn’t the best person to take guy advice from. I move on by saying, “I still don’t get why Doctor Nate keeps on texting me. It’s fun, I really look forward to my morning texts, but he lives 2,000 miles away.”
“Maybe he’s married or engaged. You’re just some fun texting fling.” Caroline casually imparts.
My insides just twist at that idea. With a pang of regret, I don’t want to be the skanky girl.
Hita starts laughing. “Caroline, you sure jump to the wildest conclusions. Juliette, it’s fun, no one’s being hurt by it, just enjoy. I don’t have any hot swimmers checking me out, or hot doctors texting me. You’re lucky to have some spice in your life.”
Hita’s comment relaxes my tight chest, even though it doesn’t bring clarity to my situation.
After lunch, I hit Mark up with my hypothesis again. He just stares at me. If he was a cartoon, he’d be breathing smoke out of his nose. I need to back off. Mark is way too stressed out to be open to a different solution. In an exasperated tone, he commands, “Focus on the work I need you to do.”
Sitting at my desk contemplating my next move, I reflect on how supportive Mark has been, and how I don’t want to go over his head. I also don’t want to sit on information that could help us solve our problems. I’ll take Hita’s advice, at the review meeting later today; I’ll try again.
Chapter 37
The tension is high as I enter the Porcupine Flat conference room. Mark is already in the room with a bunch of papers spread around him. Jim enters in full strut with Rajive following. It’s obvious by how nervous Rajive is that Jim’s not been easy to work with. This makes me feel guilty since I recommended that he take Jim while I work with Mark. Although, I’m not guilty enough to want to switch. Terri—the blond from my Monday morning meeting—along with some other guy I’ve never seen before, are also in the room typing away on their computers. Roger enters shortly after Jim. Roger kicks off the meeting by discussing what they worked on over the weekend and where they still are having problems. It’s obvious by the conversation that they’re all stymied trying to figure out what to do next. Feeling guilty for having information that could help the team—and not presenting it—I also feel conflicted. I’m also torn because Mark shut me down earlier. Finally getting up the courage, I ask Roger, “What if we’re looking in the wrong place, what if the problem we’re seeing is caused by a bug lower down, in the li
braries or OS. Couldn’t this be the reason the issues are so intermittent?”
Jim erupts. He leans towards me placing both of his hands flat on the table, his face is red and a vein across his forehead starts to throb as he yells, “What the fuck, we now have newbies questioning what we’re doing. You’re lucky we let you in the room; you better learn your place. Don’t think you can come in here with your crazy ass ideas second-guessing what we’re going.”
I’m glued to my chair unable to breathe or blink—having no idea how to respond or what to say. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Mark glaring as he holds Buddy’s collar. Buddy’s sitting up, his ears are forward, he’s growling lightly.
Roger finally breaks in. “Jim, sit down. You need to be focusing on solving this problem not yelling at our new recruits.”
At some point, I finally start breathing again. For the rest of the meeting, I don’t even move. After the meeting, I head straight to the bathroom and wash my face. Staring at my reflection in the mirror, I look into the eyes of the person I am now. “So this is what it’s like being an adult.” I say to my reflection. My pulse feels like it’s still racing, so I take two laps around the building. Finally, I’m in enough control of my emotions to slink back to my desk. Silently working at my computer for the rest of the afternoon, I reflect that I need time to process what went down, and what to do next.
After fencing, I stop at my parents’ house. They’re eating a late dinner. I’m not really hungry, but I join them anyway. My dad always cooks twice what they need since he works at an old school company that doesn’t provide free food, and he likes eating left-overs for lunch. My parents stare at each other with a serious look as I explain what went down at work today.
