The Job Proposal

by Wendy Chen

  Instead of the competitive, you-got-what-was-coming-to-you expression that Kate might have expected, all she saw in Rachel’s face was compassion. “Are you OK?” she asked. Kate was nearly undone by the kindness.

  “How do you put up with it?” She barely croaked the whisper.

  Rachel looked behind her to see if anyone was passing by and then took a step closer into Kate’s office. Just one step, as if it were risky to be observed talking about something other than work—which it probably was. Rachel smiled bitterly, “I spent five years out of the workforce when my kids were really little. I’m lucky I came back before the last big crisis, or I wouldn’t have been able to find a job at all. My husband hasn’t been able to find work, so he runs the house.” She shrugged. “Our dickhead boss likes to remind me of that, but sometimes the evil you know is better than the one you don’t.” She paused then, as if realizing this was the first personal conversation the two of them had ever had. “Adam seems great. I’m sure you guys will figure this all out.”

  Kate remained silent. How had her life turned upside down in such a short time?

  She watched Rachel leave her office. It was silly to think they would be friends; there was just no way in this god-awful dysfunctional environment they were in. She found a new respect for the woman, all the same. She sucked up the boss’s torture in a different way than Kate did because she had different priorities. Rachel did what she had to in order to support her family. She wasn’t out to compete with Kate, wasn’t out to compete with anyone. Kate had never known what that felt like, to have people dependent on her, to shoulder that kind of responsibility, to put other’s needs before her own. To love someone that much.

  Kate’s mind reeled for the rest of the day. Diving into her work was a welcome distraction from trying to figure out what to do about the rest of her life. She’d entered into a sham of an engagement as part of a childish whim that she thought would give her a boost in her career. And it had. Only it needed to remain fake. It was clearly impossible to have the career she wanted and to have personal life. She remained at her desk well past 8 p.m., long after all the others had left, after the boss had passed her office on his way out, giving her a nod of what could only have been approval when he saw she was still there. Even the cleaning staff seemed surprised she was there. And still she ignored the silence of her phone.

  On the walk home, Kate rehearsed what she would say to Adam. The timing wasn’t right, she couldn’t afford to be distracted with a relationship right now, maybe after she got her next promotion they would revisit their status as a couple. And oh, by the way, could he keep up the sham engagement? It all sounded so awful, so selfish, even just in her own head. She turned the key in the lock of her door, still unsure of what she would say, the only certainty in her mind was that Adam would understand. He always did.

  What she wasn’t prepared for was a completely dark apartment, devoid of any smells of the spices from a recently cooked meal or any sign that someone had been here at all. She turned on the television to a news channel, just to break the silence. Confused and more than a little disheartened, Kate finally checked her phone. And saw them. Twenty-four missed texts and calls, all from Adam.

  Have to go to SFO.

  Next flight out is tonight.

  Where are you?

  Waited as long as I could.

  Call you when I get in???

  Where are you???

  Her mind raced with the possibilities of why he’d be rushing off. Another personal emergency? Had Claudia called him back? Kate bit her lip. She didn’t really believe he would rush to Claudia, though a part of her was afraid he was still more tied to their past than he wanted to admit. She was torturing herself.

  The voicemail he left her was forty-five seconds long, and her heart pounded at the thought that something could truly be wrong, that someone close to him had been injured. She pressed the play button tentatively.

  A friend’s company that I’ve been backing … sued for IP theft … patent infringement … embezzlement … fraud.

  The words came jumbling out in a rush, but it was the hurt in his voice that made Kate’s heart sink. There was nothing worse than a scandal to kill a small company. Even some larger ones couldn’t recover from something like that, even when the courts ruled in their favor. He was clearly taking this as a personal hit, and she thought again how much he understood her.

  She sank onto the couch, staring blankly at the television. She didn’t fool herself into thinking there was any advice she could have provided him, but she wanted to have been there for him after he heard that kind of news. What was he planning to do? How worried was he? It went without saying that he’d have the best legal representation possible, but if his friend was guilty, if he’d betrayed Adam’s trust like that …

  Why couldn’t Kate have answered the phone when Adam needed her? Because she was too busy, too selfish with her own concerns. Kate snapped out of her thoughts long enough to process the next story segment being shown on TV. A Silicon Valley company investigation—and not just any company, but one that had previously been cited as an emerging leader in its segment, with an IPO speculated for early next year. Kate listened to the reporter’s coverage, and there was no mistaking that this was the one Adam referred to as “his friend’s company.” It was worse than Adam had described. On top of a myriad other charges, the CEO had been accused of corporate espionage, for stealing hardware designs while working at a competitor prior to starting a new company, as well as paying off some of the competitor’s employees to provide information about future strategy plans. He claimed that his investors—Adam included—knew of his actions, had encouraged them. Kate was thankful that Adam’s name stayed out of the story, but she knew that would be little consolation to him.

  Kate went to text him, even though she knew there would be no answer.

  Watching the news. I’m sorry.

  Chapter 23

  Over the next two weeks, Kate barely heard from Adam, which was just as well, really, since she needed to get back on her game at work. She logged in more hours exercising, more hours at the office, and what little free time she had she spent with her girls. She and Adam would Skype sometimes, late in the evening before she went to bed. It was hard for her to see him, wanting him to share his burdens with her, but knowing his lawyers advised him not to talk about the case with anyone. They would chitchat about mundane everyday things. Whenever he tried to turn the conversation toward their relationship, she would change the subject. He stopped doing that after the first few days, as if realizing there were things better left unsaid, things they needed to talk about in person.

  “Nothing like a face-to-face,” her dad would say, whenever there was news to be delivered that they knew Linda wouldn’t like. Whenever Kate needed extra money for glee club shows or other things Linda didn’t particularly approve of, or when the stove broke and needed to be replaced, he would wait for her to come home, hand her a glass of wine, and work his charm in person to make it all right. Sometimes he would wait until bedtime, when Kate was already up in her room studying, and sometimes her father’s magic would work and she would hear their laughter and low tones of cheerful conversation. Other times she would hear their voices raised, a door slam here or there. Either way, Linda would willingly write a check for her extracurricular activities the next morning.

  Kate missed her dad, missed his quiet confidence. When her parents were still together, he was the calming influence over her mother, the one who assured Linda that they would get by, that they wouldn’t lose their house, that Kate would have enough college money. It had been a long time since he was that man because much of his confidence left him when Linda did. It didn’t help when Kate left for college either.

  She decided to call him now, partly out of guilt, partly out of just missing him. She called him on his landline and sat in front of her computer as she walked him through signing on to Skype. It took a few tries, but
finally his face was on her screen and he smiled with a grin so familiar to her, so genuinely happy to see her.

  “I was thinking you’d be calling me soon,” he said. “You actually took longer than I thought you would.”

  “Are you going to tell me what I’m calling for, too?” She was never good at keeping things from her father. Maybe she could pretend it was the old days when she’d sit at their kitchen counter and tell him about some boy who’d made fun of her. And he would immediately understand that it had been some cute, popular boy who she might have had a crush on if she’d been the type to have crushes.

  “You remind me so much of your mother when you don’t have all that makeup on.” Her dad glanced away from the screen. Did he still have those old family pictures next to his computer? He used to joke that the collection of frames filled with Kate and Linda were his motivation to get back to writing, to sit his ass down and get some words out. But the way he looked away wistfully made Kate want to trash whatever picture of her mother was making him look so heartbroken. Those road trips, those family holidays—those times are over, she wanted to say to him. Stop looking back. Move on.

  “How is your mother, anyway? Have you spoken to her lately?”

  Kate swallowed and mentally pulled herself together. She wasn’t a little girl whose daddy could make everything better. “She’s fine. The same.”

  “Is she … is she seeing anyone?” Her dad looked away again, as if he couldn’t meet Kate’s eyes. “I know, it seems odd, doesn’t it, asking you about this kind of thing. It’s just … I’d heard, you know … there’s a visiting professor from London … they went out to dinner.”

  “She didn’t say anything to me about it, Dad.”

  “Oh, that’s good. I mean, that’s fine. She can do whatever she wants, I was just … curious … you know.” He tried to smile then, but even over Skype Kate could tell it was forced. Is this what he thought about all the time? “So I was surprised to see Adam with you—”

  Kate jolted back to the original reason why she’d decided to call her dad and knew that he was waiting for her to spill whatever she needed to say. “He came to visit recently.”

  Her dad’s face stared back at her on her screen. She saw the sadness around his eyes more clearly than she did even in person. That was what love did to a person. That was what Linda had done to him. She couldn’t do that to Adam.

  “I thought we might … there might be something there … between us. I’m not so sure now, though.”

  “You always had a lot in common. And different in some good ways. You both have strong personalities. He’s your equal, Kate, not someone who’s going to let you run over him. You need that.” And there he was. The dad who had cared enough to help her figure out who she was as a teenager and to let her leave home to find herself as an adult. But did he know how fickle she was, how selfish she was, how short-term and noncommittal she was? Of course he didn’t; it wasn’t a doting long-distance father’s job to see all her adulthood shortcomings.

  “I might not be what he needs.” It came out as little more than whisper, but Kate knew her father heard her. His face hardened.

  “When you find love, you keep it. Don’t expect it to be easy all the time. You work at it. You don’t give up on it.”

  And if he hadn’t been glancing at her mother’s picture the whole time, Kate might have believed him.

  Chapter 24

  Kate was good at suppressing how she was feeling, even to herself. There was one night, though, she’d just disconnected Skype and was sitting in her pajamas at her computer at 10 p.m. on a Saturday night. She didn’t feel like going out, she didn’t feel like doing anything. Adam had barely said anything, his mind clearly on the lawsuits, his hair sticking up from running his hands through it too much, the bags under his eyes clear evidence of the sleep he’d been losing. This wasn’t happening to her, so why was she so down about it? She should be out at a party, or at least at a bar with a drink in one hand and a hot guy in the other. She almost snorted out loud at that last thought. There was no mistaking that she had no desire for anyone but Adam, even though every rational cell in her brain kept reminding her that she needed things to slow down with him, that she should be grateful for this break they were forced to have from each other.

  Instead, she just felt sad.

  She was reminded of something Adam used to say to her in high school whenever she’d get in the mood for a weepy movie or book. “Are you being hormonal?” From anyone else the question would have been downright rude, but he would ask it in such a guileless, genuine manner that it somehow made it okay.

  Am I being hormonal? Kate pulled her pill pack from her bathroom drawer. She normally got her period by day two of her fourth week of pills. She was on day four. Still not late, exactly, but she felt her palms and forehead start to sweat. She found her phone and texted Suzanne.

  Is it possible to get pregnant while I’m on the pill?

  Her stomach dropped. Of course she knew the answer. Of course she knew there was always the smallest possibility.

  You always use condoms, too, don’t you? Came Suzanne’s reply.

  Of course. Except with Adam.

  It just hadn’t seemed … necessary.

  What kind of pill?

  Kate told her. And the next few moments waiting for Suzanne’s answer seemed like an eternity. She stared at her pill pack. She was probably overreacting. Just because her period always came on day two of the fourth week for as many years as she could remember didn’t mean she was pregnant.

  When her phone rang and the caller ID showed it was Suzanne, Kate wanted to burst into tears right then. She didn’t want to answer, didn’t want to hear whatever it was that Suzanne felt important enough to call about. Why did she have to call a doctor, anyway? She should have called Cass or Mia, who would have told her to just calm down and wait for her period like a normal person. She could have just stuck her head in the sand like she did about so many other things.

  Finally she answered, just before the call would go to voicemail. She didn’t even say hello, just waited for Suzanne to talk.

  “How late are you?”

  Kate told her.

  “It’s probably nothing.”

  “But I could be pregnant.”

  “Anything is possible. Frankly, after thirty-five, it could be pregnancy as much as it could be early menopause.” Kate almost made a crack about never imagining she’d be wishing for hot flashes. But she sensed there was more that Suzanne was trying to tell her. “The thing is, your pill was recalled.”

  “What do you mean recalled? Recalls are for cyanide-laced acetaminophen capsules or E.coli contaminated produce. What do you mean?”

  Suzanne took a breath. “I looked it up, and it looks like a bunch of your pills were recalled for—”

  “For what?” Kate whispered.

  “Inefficacy.”

  Kate couldn’t remember how she ended the call, if she’d said a polite good-bye or thank you or anything. Only that she agreed to stop by Suzanne’s office to get her blood drawn, the foolproof way to find out if she was pregnant this soon after missing her period. She somehow ended up in bed with the covers drawn over her head, taking deep breaths in and out. What am I going to do? What am I going to do?

  One thing she could not do was tell Adam. It was an odd feeling because she had immediately wanted to tell him right away, just like she told him everything right away when they were in high school. But not this, not now, when he already had so much on his mind. She knew what he’d do—he’d come back to New York on the next flight, wanting to hold her hand while she got blood drawn. No, she had to at least wait until she was sure.

  Kate had no idea how she got up the next morning, just that her body seemed to go through the motions of preparing for her usual run on its own. As her feet pounded the sidewalk in a steady rhythm, allowing her mind to wander wherever it would, she cursed that it was a Sunday, that
she couldn’t get the blood work done and over with. Even if Suzanne opened up her office specially for her, there would have been no lab open to get the results from.

  She wouldn’t go to work today, she decided. Sitting at a desk in front of a computer where she could Google “signs of pregnancy” all day would do her no good. She needed to keep on the move. She extended her run for thirty minutes longer than usual, until she was near exhaustion when she finally walked into her building. As fate would have it, she saw a pregnant woman in her lobby, wearing fashionable jeans and a cute tunic top that looked like something Kate herself would wear. Maybe the woman lived in her building, maybe she’d seen her a dozen times before—Kate had no idea. That day Kate noticed how happy the woman was, rubbing her belly while waiting for someone. It occurred to Kate that maybe she shouldn’t have overdone it on the run, and she felt a flash of guilt for pushing herself. Would she have to avoid too much exercise from now on?

  It was ridiculous, the way she was allowing her mind to wander when she didn’t know for sure if she was pregnant. She couldn’t talk to Adam, and she didn’t want to talk to Cass or Mia either just yet. None of this was real, and talking about it would make it so. And yet if Kate had to spend an entire day with only her imagination to keep her company, she might go insane. So she took the train uptown to see the person who could keep her grounded for the next twenty-four hours.

  “Pregnancy is not an illness. You can still exercise,” Suzanne said flatly when Kate rushed through her door, saying she’d exercised too much and now felt faint.

  “Do I look pregnant?”

  Suzanne rolled her eyes. Kate sat on a stool at Suzanne’s kitchen counter and put her head down on her arms. “I might have morning sickness. I feel nauseous.”