by A. Gorman
I get out of my SUV and head inside, and I make it to my office without seeing Victor. Thank goodness. I do my normal routine and get everything turned on and my personal belongings locked away.
As I sit down, I wish I would have stopped and got a coffee. I’ll wait until someone in the office is here to make coffee. If I don’t I’ll end up drinking a whole pot because I don’t want to waste it since no one will be in for another hour or so.
While I look through my emails, I wonder when I’m going to hear about the grant from CUGC and Patrick? Mmm Patrick. I think I have more than just a little infatuation with the man. Oh, how I wish I could see him tonight. Maybe I should ask him…out.
That is a brilliant idea. He’d never expect it, but what if he has plans for tonight? Who says it has to be tonight. Me, I want it to be tonight. Calm down, girl. I’ll call him and ask him out and he can pick out the when, and the where we can decide later.
I wonder when should I call him? I look up at the clock on the wall and see it’s only seven thirty. I wonder if now would be good? I better not. I’ll wait until later so I know he’s awake and hopefully not busy.
Checking my email, I click on the monthly newsletter, and read about the center’s celebration. At the top of the letter is our picture and while looking at the picture of Patrick and me at the top of the letter, my email dings with a new message. I click over and see it’s from KCaton from CUGC. Um, who? I open the email and it’s from Patrick’s assistant.
Ms. Janes,
I’m contacting you for a good time to speak with you. I’m working on your grant file for the board and I need some additional information.
You may reply to the message or call me between 8am and 6pm today at the number listed below.
Sincerely,
Kristin Caton
Assistant to Patrick H. Matheson
Oh no. I wonder what else she could need. I look up and still it’s twenty to eight. Screw waiting for coffee. I need to do something to kill time instead of just staring at the clock. I walk to our breakroom and get the coffee out, fill the filter full of grounds, and put it in the pot. I press the button on and the machine comes to life. I look around for my coffee cup and realize that I left it on my desk.
I walk into my office and grab my cup and turn to walk out and run right into Victor. Where in the hell did he come from?
“Um, sorry. I didn’t hear you come in,” I say as I push myself away from him.
“It’s okay. How are you this morning?” His hands are still on my arms and I take another step backwards, my desk stopping my movement. I feel trapped.
“I’m well. Getting some coffee, it’s brewing now if you want some.” I push myself off the desk and out of his grasp.
“Umm, okay.” He looks disappointed that he’s not touching me anymore, but I’m not sure and I don’t care. I don’t want to be a bitch, but I might have to be.
“After you,” I say as I wave my hand toward the door, hinting to him that I want him out of my office.
He sighs and walks out my office and in the direction of the breakroom. As I walk out of my office, Kelly comes in and I’ve never been so glad to see her because I know she will be making a straight dash to the coffee pot.
“Good morning, Kelly. Coffee should be finished brewing.”
“Oh, bless you. I need a cup. I’ll be right in there,” she says as she rushes past me with her arms full of files and boxes.
I walk slowly into the room and walk to the sink to wash out my mug, and she arrives moments after me.
“Good morning, Victor,” she cheerfully says as she pours coffee into the biggest coffee cup I’ve ever seen. The cup has to be two or three cups.
“Hey, Kelly. Well, I guess I should get to the gym. Have a good one, ladies,” he says as he brushes pass me.
“Bye, Victor,” Kelly yells after him. “Such a nice fellow,” she says while she stirs cream and sugar in her coffee.
“Yeah,” is all I say and nod in agreement.
“Any word on your additional grant?”
“No, I have to call CUGC after eight actually. They needed more information for the documentation.”
“Oh, well let me know how that goes.”
“Will do.”
“Have a good rest of your morning. I know I will,” she says as she puts the massive mug up to her lips and takes a drink.
“You too,” I say with a smile. I fill my cup and head to my office.
Looking at the time, I see it’s time to call Kristin. I take a deep breath, let it out before picking up the phone, and call the number listed in the email. I hope I can give her the information she needs.
After pressing the last number, the phone rings and rings. I guess I’ve missed her and—
“Good morning, Patrick Matheson’s office, Kristin speaking.”
“Good morning, Kristin. This is Emily Janes. I’m calling you in regards to the email you sent.”
“Hello, Ms. Janes. It’s nice to put a voice with the name. I’ve heard a lot about you…and the center.” Oh my. I wonder what Patrick as told her.
“All good, I hope?”
“Of course, dear. Patrick tells me you’re doing some astonishing work with the community. What I’m calling about is Patrick left out a few things that I need.”
“Alright.”
“First, how many families monthly do you see on an average for assistance?”
“For monetary assistance for things like rent and electricity, thirty to forty, and for the food pantry, the average is around fifty. However, that’s slowly increasing. I’m projecting sixty to sixty five families. Or two hundred people to two hundred sixty.”
“That’s quite a jump for an improving economy.”
“I know,” I say sarcastically.
“Next question, do you have volunteers at the center or a community day of service?”
“Yes, and yes. We collaborate with the University of Nevada Reno and AmeriCorps. The college students spend hours here working with the kids or helping around the center for a stipend to use for college expenses. In the past, companies have come in and spent the day organizing the food pantry and restocking it.”
“Sounds like your center is busy.”
“It is, but we service a lot of people, especially at risk children. I want to make sure I do my part to try to help them be successful when they grow up.”
“I think you’re doing an excellent job.”
“Thank you very much. That means a lot to me.”
“You’re welcome. I think I have everything I need now. I’ll get this finished and send it to the president and the board today. You should hear from Patrick or myself in a week, two weeks at the most.”
“Great. I appreciate it. Thank you so much.”
“Not a problem. Have a good rest of your day.”
“You too, Kristin.” I hang up, wishing I had asked her if Patrick was in. Too late now.
I check my calendar and I have an appointment in fifteen minutes, so I email Kelly about my call and get organized for my appointment. Looks like I’m booked until lunch and the morning should go by quickly.
After two appointments, my third appointment is either running late or is a no show. I wish people would at least call if they can’t make it on time, I could have possibly helped someone else. I don’t want to leave in case they do show-up, but I really don’t have much to do.
I could text Patrick to see when is free to talk? Yes!
ME: Hey. It’s Emily. Are you free to talk?
I’m sure he knows who it is, smooth, Ems, real smooth. I wait a few minutes and no reply. I guess he’s busy so I place my phone down. A few minutes later, my phone buzzes with a new message.
PATRICK: Hey, anytime.
ME: Now?
PATRICK: Yes, now would be included in ‘anytime’.
ME: Sarcasm doesn’t suit you.
PATRICK: Are you going to call me?
ME: Maybe.
I press the ca
ll button that’s next to Patrick’s name and the phone rings once.
“I thought you were kidding or pulling out one of your jokes.”
I chuckle. “No, but if you need one I’m sure I can come up with something.”
“I’m good right now, thanks though. So…you wanted to talk?”
“Yep. Actually, I want to ask you something.”
“Alright.”
“I was wondering if you would like to go out to dinner.” Silence greets my ears; I can’t hear anything from Patrick. “Um, are you there?” There’s more silence and my stomach flip-flops. Did I misread his cues?
“You want to go out with me?” So I didn’t imagine the effect I had on her.
“Yes, or I wouldn’t have asked.” Sassy. I really like this.
“When?” I ask, pulling up my calendar on my computer.
“Whenever works for you, as my schedule is open.” I think I can change that.
“How about tomorrow night?” I wish it could be tonight, but I told Addison I would be with her when they transfer Dad to hospice. He’s holding his own after they removed him from life support.
“That works.” There’s a hint of excitement in her voice.
“Text me your address and I’ll pick you up. Even though you asked me, I’ll pick up the tab.”
“Fine. You pick the place too.” I laugh at her exasperation.
“If anything would happen to change on my end, I’ll let you know.”
“Likewise. Have a good rest of your day, Patrick.”
“You too, Emily.”
I get to work on the month end numbers. Kristin told me she talked to Emily this morning and really thought she sounded like a very sweet woman, and I couldn’t agree more. I think about what sounds good for dinner, and get lost in planning my date with Emily.
Four thirty rolls around and I’m dreading leaving the office. I know I need to be strong for Addison and get Dad’s estate in order. The finalization of paperwork won’t happen until he passes away, but we know it’s inevitable. Not if but when he does at this point.
As I walk into the hospital, and I don’t stop until I get to the waiting room on the floor our father’s on. I send Addison a text letting her know I’m here, and I sit in an uncomfortable plastic chair until she gets here.
“Hey,” she says as she walks in the room and plops down in the chair beside me.
“Any change?”
“Yes, they are getting some brain activity now. He’s still breathing on his own. They don’t know if taking him off the vent kick started something in his brain or not. The outlook is still grim and they said it would be best for him in hospice.”
“Okay. Then that’s what we will do.”
“I have all of his things that are in his room bagged up and ready to go. They are taking him there by ambulance. They just need your signature on the paperwork.”
“Lead the way.”
She slowly stands and I stand with her, pulling her into me to lean on me for strength. We walk to the nurse’s station and talk to the charge nurse to get everything signed and prepared for his transfer. Hospice care is ten minutes away from the hospital and closer for Addison to drive to. She can’t stay the night with him there like she was here, but at least she will be close if something happens.
“I’m going to head to the facility to make sure Dad’s room is all ready for him and put some things out to make it all more cheerful.”
“Do you want me to come?”
“You might want to in case they need information from you.”
“Okay, I’ll meet you there. Love you.” I kiss her temple and hug her again.
“Love you too.” She grabs the bags that are outside of Dad’s room and take them with her.
“I’ll help you carry those.
“I got them, they aren’t that heavy. Thanks though.” She walks to the elevators and gets in when they open.
I find the stairs and walk down them and out to my car. Once I’m outside, the sky opens up and rain comes pouring down on me. I think about running, but the result still would be the same. Walking in the rain to my car, I remember what Emily said about letting go of the pain my father caused, and I know she’s right. I let the rain fall down over me, soaking me to my undershirt, and take away the years of hurt and anger that’s made me a cold person.
When I get to my car, my suit is rain soaked and ruined, and even though the suit weighs a ton, I feel lighter. A small weight lifts from me, and I would have never tried to let go of my pain if it wasn’t for Emily’s suggestion. I know it’s not all gone, but I’m trying—I need to keep trying. Not for Emily or Addison but for myself—I have to want this.
I pull off my suit coat that sticks to my body and hang it on the coat hanger in the back seat. Water drips off the cuff and onto the seat of the car. There’s nothing I can do about it, and the driver’s seat isn’t going to be much better. As I pull out of the parking garage, the rain stops, and the sun peeks through the rain clouds—I have to laugh at the irony of the situation.
The drive to the hospice facility is short and I pull into a parking spot next to Addison’s Honda. I think she needs to get a newer more reliable car. I should buy her a car so I know that she won’t get taken advantage of and she’s safe driving wherever she needs to go.
I get out of my car, not even worrying about putting my coat on, and head toward the front of the facility. Addison is waiting for me under the canopy.
“You look like a drowned cat.”
“I feel like one.”
“I guess the downpour got you?”
“Yes, I was too far to run to my car and too far to run back inside the hospital.”
“I’m sorry, but at least you smell better,” she says as she scrunches up her nose.
“Har, har.”
“I talked to the nurse that will be in charge of Dad’s care and she needs a few things from you. I didn’t want to tell her the wrong thing. I told her you would be here shortly.”
“Okay, let’s get everything taken care of so you can stop worrying.”
“I’m not worrying.”
I shoot her a you can’t bullshit a bullshitter look.
“Alright, maybe a little bit…okay, a lot.”
“I figured.”
“Thank you, Patrick. I don’t think I could have done all of this on my own.”
“You’re my family; I would do anything for you.” I pull her in for a one arm hug and walk inside the building.
By the time the nurse is finished talking with us, they have Dad in his room and everything in place for his stay, however long that may be.
“I’m going to say good night to Dad.”
“I’ll wait for you so you have someone to walk out with.”
“Okay.”
I walk down the hall, into a small waiting room and sit down in the hard plastic chair. I pull out my phone from my pants pocket and realize it’s water logged. Shit. I’ll need to get a new phone tomorrow. I don’t even know what time it is.
The wait seems like it’s taking forever, I’m sure it’s because I’m just sitting here watching the hallway, willing Addison to hurry up. A few minutes later, I see her walking toward me, I get up and meet her, and we walk out the entrance.
“Hungry or anything?”
“Yes. You want to get something to eat with me?”
“Yes, if you don’t mind people seeing me looking like this.”
“I’m sure no one will notice your soggy clothing.”
“Perhaps if we go to McDonald’s,” I say blank faced.
“Sounds good. You can drive,” she says as she bumps me with her hip and walks to the passenger side of my car.
“Teenagers.” I shake my head and get in the car, taking Addison to McDonalds. She looks carefree at the moment and I’m glad to see a smile on her face.
Tick. Tick. Tick. I put my pillow over my head, trying to persuade my head that I need to sleep longer, but my heart and mind is racing with exci
tement. When I texted Patrick my address yesterday, he replied he would be here at five thirty, in exactly twelve hours and eight minutes. I take a deep breath, trying to calm my rapidly beating heart and I give up. I’m wide awake; I might as well get up and kick off my day.
I open the windows in the living room and let the outside filter into the room. The sky looks stunning at this time of morning. I go to the kitchen and brew a pot of coffee. While I wait for it to brew, I pour a bowl of Special K cereal with milk, and go into the living room and turn on the TV.
The news drones on about the same dull stuff over and over so I flip through the channels. There is nothing on at this time of the morning. I come across a cooking show and leave it on the channel. I can’t cook to save my life. I burn water. Yes, it’s possible. Whatever the woman is making looks amazing and it makes me wish I knew how to cook, and the lady’s techniques pull me into the show and I end up sitting there watching four episodes without moving. Oops.
I pour myself a cup of cold coffee and heat it up in the microwave, and I wonder what my mom is up to this morning. I only talked to her a few moments yesterday. Actually, I’ve only talked to her a few minutes the past few times I’ve called her, and I grab my phone out of my bedroom, taking it and my coffee into the living room. I dial her number and hit send.
After a few rings, she answers.
“Hello, Emily,” she says with a shaky voice.
“Hey, Mom. Are you okay?” I asked concerned.
“Yes, it’s just a rough morning,” she says more even toned.
“Do I need to come over?” I’m still worried.
“No, no. I’ll be okay.” She’s trying to shake off my concern.
“Are you sure?” I don’t believe her.
“Yes, darling. You have plans today. I’m not going to make you cancel them.” Her tone changes and she’s in mothering mode.
“Patrick would understand, Mom,” I plea to her.
“I’m fine, so no worrying,” she huffs.
“As long as you’re okay.” I sigh because I know she’s not telling me something.
“I am. So, tell me more about Patrick.” Wow. She’s not rushing me off the phone.
