I lifted open one of the alcove windows. “It’s my mother, after all. She’s not exactly Super Woman.” I’d tried to put the whole conversation with my mother behind me; however, I had to keep Lara up to speed on the baby drama.
“You’d still think she’d have class enough to at least feign excitement, right? Didn’t she at least congratulate you? I mean, having a baby’s a pretty friggin’ big deal.”
“Yeah. She feigned that one.”
“And your dad?” Lara joined me in the dining room, pulling up a chair beside me as I stretched my calves using one of the chair’s legs for support.
“Oh, please. I don’t anticipate I’ll hear from him. Like, ever. I did finally email him.”
Lara blew on her hot beverage, shrugging. “You do what you can.”
“Oh! That reminds me!” I exclaimed, dashing into my bedroom to retrieve my laptop. “I totally forgot to tell you! Emily wrote back.”
Lara scooted in close as I opened my email inbox and clicked on Emily’s message.
“I can’t believe I forgot to tell you. I got her email late last night.”
“Read it out loud. I don’t have my reading glasses.”
I tried to catch my breath; the jog’s effects still had hold of me.
“Dear Robin and Lara,” I read. “It’s so good to hop onto the internet when I can manage and see your names pop up in my inbox. Oh how I miss you girls! Robin, congratulations!!! That is some very big news. I’m still in shock, but I’m so happy for you! And the photos are amazing. That little guy (or girl) is going to be gorgeous, just like its momma. I am not sure when I’ll be heading back home, but you can bet I’ll be home in time for the birth. What an unforgettable Christmas it’ll be this year!
“All is well in Ghana. The village has decided to adopt me and never let me return home. Ha Ha. Their way of life is so back-to-basics it’s refreshing. (Although 24/7 wireless service would be nice.) They’re very kind and hospitable—even learned how to braid my hair just like the locals (pic attached). I’ve been helping build a small school in between my town and the nearest one about thirty miles from here. It’s really crazy to see how two communities have to share one school, unlike at home where we have how many per district? Crazy! It’s also interesting, and endearing, to see the kids’ faces light up when a shipment of books and chalk and crayons comes in. Really puts things into perspective.
“Well, it’s time I head home to help herd the animals. It’s getting to be that time of day again. Congrats again, Robin. I am so very, VERY proud of you. And can’t wait to see you soon and give you a hug. Lara, keep taking care of our girl and I’ll see you both soon. P.S. Send my love to all of the ladies and tell Jackie to keep out of trouble. God knows what’s happening at my apartment when I’m not there. LOL
“Hugs and Kisses, Emily
“And I forwarded it to the rest of the girls already.”
Lara blinked away one lone tear. “God, I miss her. She’s off seeing the world, herding animals and braiding hair…” She laughed and wiped at her eyes. “Look at me. All goofy and emotional. Like I’m the pregnant girl.”
“Aw, Lara, it’s been a while. We all miss her. But she’ll be back in the fall!”
Just then, as if on cue, Beebee leapt onto Lara’s lap and immediately started purring. Lara rubbed her behind her ears and hugged her tight.
“Before we know it Emily will be back in Seattle, regaling us with all sorts of adventurous stories and sharing tons of fun photos,” I said.
I especially loved it when Emily, the hobby photographer, shared the pictures she took on various trips. She was lucky that she was getting to do what she loved without really having to worry about who would foot the bill. She was that trust fund baby I was talking about, much like Chad. Emily’s parents were well to do, too, and encouraged her to travel the globe and chase her dreams. She could always get a “real job” when she wanted to explore that side of life. Until then, the world was her oyster, pearl and all.
None of us really understood how she did it. We all would love to take off and hit the open road, sure. Some of us, like Jackie, would naturally tire of the on-the-road lifestyle eventually, but many of us would keep on trekking and throwing ourselves into this culture and that without thinking twice. At some point, though, we’d all worry about how long we could sustain such habits. I guess that’s for all us non-trust fund babies to contend with while the Emilies and Chads of the world can come from wealthy stock and do pretty much whatever the hell they want. At least, through it all, given the endless opportunities and no-questions-asked, Emily and Chad hadn’t become like the Paris Hiltons of the world; having everything handed to them on a silver platter, and feeding off of everyone and everything and never giving a damn thing back.
“Well, I’m bushed,” I said, closing my laptop. “I’m going to shower and cash in early tonight.”
“Another early day at the office tomorrow?” Lara asked, still cuddling Beebee.
“Yeah. I want to get in early so I can talk with my boss about maternity leave. Whoopee.” I meandered back to the bathroom.
“At least you’ll look smoking hot doing it. You with all your fancy new clothes.”
Chapter Eleven
The following Monday I arrived at the office at a quarter to eight, confident that I would be there at least fifteen minutes before my boss. I was dressed in new clothes head to toe. I pulled my hair in a high pony-tail, covering the rubber band with a strand of what I still and will probably always insist is my naturally blonde hair. The pale blue, collared dress shirt was simple but attractively pleated in the back, making the contours of my now ever-present baby bump look just the way Claire said it should: small ‘n’ sweet. And the charcoal grey dress pants with the widened waistband done discretely and comfortably were the perfect match. With the slightest sweep of mascara, finished off with an application of pale pink lip gloss, I admit I looked like one hot momma who also rocked her career. Looking good in my new clothes, I felt bolstered with confidence.
On schedule, my boss, Mr. Lober, charged into his office, a Venti size Starbucks cup in one hand, his briefcase in the other. I quit my peering around the corner and tidied up the countertops of the break room where I’d been preparing my own morning beverage.
You can do this. Go in there and get it done.
“Mr. Lober?” I asked, knocking on his open door.
“Yes, Miss Sinclair. Do come in,” he said, sounding rather scatterbrained. He’d opened his briefcase and was digging through papers, setting aside books, files, folders. “I got your email. You wanted to make some time to chat this morning? Glad to see we can do it before the rush-rush of the day, eh?”
I thanked him for his time and took a seat while he continued busying himself with the contents of his briefcase.
“So what’s this all about? You’re not leaving us for greener pastures, are you?” Still sorting through his case.
I reassured him it was nothing of the sort, that such an idea was the farthest thing from my mind.
Finally, he closed his briefcase and took a seat himself. “Then what can I do you for?” He folded his hands on his desk and smiled at me.
Here goes…
“I wanted to let you know that I’m expecting.”
He raised one eyebrow.
“I’m expecting a baby,” I clarified.
Both eyebrows suddenly rose and then an, “Oh, wow! Golly! Well congratulations, Miss Sinclair!”
“Thank you.”
“Well, this is indeed a surprise.” I caught him giving me a quick once-over, trying to see if his usual scatterbrained behavior had caused him to completely oversee that one of his employees was obviously pregnant. “Well you must have just found out. I’d never tell.” I started to blush. “Congratulations. How wonderful. So we need to chat about maternity leave then, eh?”
A wave of relief washed over me—this was a completely relaxed, worry-free, and much more easy-going situation than I’d exp
ected.
In a matter of only a few minutes, before anyone else sauntered into work on the usual manic Monday, Mr. Lober and I had my maternity leave all worked out, in addition to the vacation time I wanted to use. I was going to take the entire months of December and January off, and play it by ear when it came to February. I wanted to be accountable at work, while at the same time I wanted to be a good mother, and there for my baby when it needed me most.
One step at a time, I had to keep reminding myself. The maternity leave was squared away and didn’t seem like it’d be too troublesome if I wanted to switch a few things around, when and if the time came. What a relief to have that one taken care of. Of course, there was still the matter of the entire office finding out, Janet and Bobby in particular, whose reactions weren’t easy to predict. Although I was sure Janet would play her usual bitch card.
That’s going to be fun.
“And we’re still having your review in August, correct, Miss Sinclair?” Mr. Lober said, as I was heading out of his office.
I turned towards him, my heart skipping a beat at the prospect of receiving that raise. “Oh, absolutely. I’m looking forward to it.”
He nodded his head and began fiddling with the mountain of papers, files, and books that he’d unloaded onto his desk when he arrived, returning to his scatterbrained world.
“Well, well, well, look what the new Ann Taylor LOFT cat dragged in,” Janet said from behind me, causing me to jump. I spilled a small amount of hot tea onto my office floor, but only cursed the accident in my mind. Luckily I missed my hand and new outfit. Tea stains wouldn’t go with the sophisticated career woman look I was going for.
“You startled me, Janet,” I said. I set my mug on a stack of papers on my desk.
“What’s with the new clothes?”
Why does she even notice? Or care? I thought her world revolved around her.
As I turned towards her, I watched her eyes grow to the approximate size of golf balls. I withheld my laughter.
“I needed some maternity clothes.” Simple and concise. And shocking.
“What? Wha— When? Who? Huh?”
I couldn’t hold in my laughter anymore. “Baby’s due December seventh. Exciting, huh?”
“Wow. Well, uh…”
“Yeah, I know. I was a bit surprised myself, too. But, sometimes these things happen.” I took my seat and started up my computer. “Sometimes little surprises show up and whatcha gonna do, huh?” I flashed her a bright smile, remaining unexpectedly upbeat and nonchalant about the whole thing.
When the shock finally subsided Janet returned to her usual, predictable vindictive self. She let out a forced guffaw. “I don’t know whether to say congratulations or I’m sorry.”
Wow, she and Brandon could hit it off.
I wanted to tell her, “Then don’t say anything at all,” but I decided against it. Seriously, did anyone watch Bambi when they were kids? All I replied with was, “I’ll take congratulations. Thank you.”
Janet shook her head roughly and started to get to work. “I guess some women have their priorities. Looks like I will be the one getting that PM position. The Board would be nuts to hire a woman who obviously has other priorities in life. Not that there was ever any doubt. Anyone can see I’m clearly the right woman for the job.”
I had so many things I wanted to say to Janet the Bitch right then, but nothing would come out. I couldn’t form the words properly nor bring myself to say anything—anything at all. And then, while my hands were balled up into fists and my mouth was drawn tight, glaring at the back of her tiny pinhead, I heard Lara’s voice running through my mind, “You need to keep your stress level low. Think of the baby.”
So I yanked open my desk drawers and took out my bag of cherries, and the reel of ultrasound photos from my purse. I then slammed my drawers closed as the best response to Janet I could muster. I cut one of the photos from the reel—the one where you could clearly see my baby’s profile—and taped it to the bottom of my computer monitor.
Looking beautiful, baby!
***
“I really hate her,” I told Lara over the phone while I waited in line at the nearby Quiznos during lunch break. “She says the most asinine things sometimes. No. All the time. She’s a bitch. I can’t stand her.” I caught some harsh looks from the other customers in line, so I lowered my voice.
“Don’t get yourself worked up over her,” Lara replied. “She’s just a stupid co-worker who sounds miserable in her own life and wants to make everyone else around her just as miserable. Forget about it.”
“I guess.”
“You should be excited that your meeting with your boss went so well. And that you’re getting some nice time off later.” She was right. “And remember, keep that stress low. It’s not healthy, pregnant or not.” Right again. “And when you find yourself getting all worked up over her, look at your baby picture and know that you’re doing all of this for her…or him. Never mind the assholes in life.”
There was only one more customer ahead of me in line; I needed to wrap up the call soon, because there’s nothing I hate more (aside from Janet) than people who talk on their cell phones when ordering or paying for their food or groceries. Just talking away and ignoring the person behind the counter who is trying to offer customer service.
“And, don’t forget that in a couple weeks’ time we’ll be enjoying the high life for the Fourth of July. Nothing to worry about at all.”
Yeah, except for how I’ll probably look like a disaster in my bathing suit.
It was my turn to order. “Got to go, girl. Love ya. See you after work.” I slipped my cell phone into my purse and proceeded to order. I was about to add an iced tea to my order when I heard Sophie’s voice, this time ringing through my head reminding me to steer clear of caffeinated beverages. “And a water, please,” I ordered. Surprisingly, the no-caffeine rule wasn’t too tough to live by, and I was feeling fine without it by then. At first, my withdrawals were a little painful—a couple of splitting headaches that I simply had to ride out since I (surprise, surprise) couldn’t take over-the-counter pain medication as a pregnant woman.
“Whoa, feeding an army there, Robin?” a familiar voice asked. I picked up my large tray of food. It was Bobby Holman.
Crap, I hope he didn’t hear me talking about Janet.
“Bobby!” I said, taking note that he was at the end of the current line, meaning he must have recently walked in, so there was no chance he could have heard my phone call.
Phew.
“Can I join once I order really quick?”
“Uh, sure.”
Not that I planned on eating lunch with anyone today…but…all right.
“Congratulations, Robin,” Bobby said, taking a seat at my table for two. “Was teasing you back there. You know, since you’re feeding two now.”
“Aw, so the word is out, huh?” I’d spent most of the morning on the phone and hadn’t meandered about the office halls. Whether anyone other than Mr. Lober, myself, and the Bitch with whom I regrettably shared an office knew of my pregnancy was unknown. Looks like word travels fast.
“I didn’t know you were planning on having kids yet.”
“Well, it wasn’t exactly planned.”
Awkward. Shaping out to be a very awkward lunch here.
“Congratulations just the same. And congratulations to the proud papa, too.”
“Just me,” I said, nibbling on my chips.
He looked confused.
“No father. Just me.” I gave him a weak smile.
“Ah, sorry about that.” He looked uncomfortable, probably wondering if there was no father because we split up, or he croaked, or something dramatic like that. Probably wouldn’t peg Miss Robin Sinclair to be the kind who’d get knocked up from a one-night stand.
“Don’t be. Nothing to be sorry about. It’s in the past. From here on out it’s me and baby.” I sat up a little taller in my seat, showing that I was fine with there not bei
ng a father in the picture. “Me, baby, and my girls, of course.”
We chatted for a few minutes, on a personal level, me dishing about my girlfriends—how they were the only supportive team I had, and how I wouldn’t know what I’d do without them. Even if I had a supportive family and the baby’s father was in the picture, I still wouldn’t know what I’d do without Lara, Claire, Sophie, Jackie, and Emily. We shot the breeze about work, too, even shared a few cracks about Janet and her much too serious demeanor. That was rather refreshing, seeing how I wondered half the time if I was the only one who could see Janet for what she truly was—a self-righteous, hell-on-wheels Medusa of a woman.
Bobby and I didn’t talk about the project management position, which was sort of a relief. I thought of asking if he’d try for the position, seeing how I was curious and missed the opportunity to ask last time we had a chat. But what did it really matter? Whether or not Bobby tried for the position should have no bearing on my chances. Or on my decision to I try for it or not.
And if Bobby did get it, great for him. Besides, I was growing more and more confident over the course of our lunch that if he did become the PM, he’d certainly choose to have me on his team. And I kind of liked that idea. I wouldn’t mind working alongside Bobby. He was intelligent, easy-going, kind, and very personable. He’d make a great team leader, not to mention wouldn’t be bad eye candy. That wavy, auburn hair, those piercing blue eyes that I could take a bath in, that determined chin, and that ass. Not bad. But what was I thinking? Bobby Holman had a girlfriend, and he clearly wasn’t interested in being any form of partner with me other than a project teammate or co-worker. And, I was four months pregnant with some guy’s baby. For all Bobby knew, I was in the middle of a messy breakup. Or in the midst of a vicious custody battle. Who knows what he thought of Miss pregnant Sinclair.
I can’t deny it, though; that lunch turned out to be really enjoyable. It was as if we’d known each other for years, as if we shot the breeze together all the time. What I was sure at first would be an awkward situation, having to explain how I was single and pregnant, turned out to be a pleasant lunch with a nice co-worker. No flirting, not too much personal talk; just an easygoing lunch at a Quiznos on a random Monday afternoon. Strictly business, I had reminded myself repeatedly. And just because Bobby said we should do it again some time didn’t imply that this time, or the next time, or any other time for that matter, would be for pleasure.
When Girlfriends Step Up Page 13
