“You have no idea. But a grumpy son of a gun.” She eyed me from across the room where I now sat in my comfiest sweatpants, a clay mask on my face, digging into a pint of Ben & Jerry’s Triple Caramel Chunk. “So, you want to tell me what the heck you’re doing home?”
I lifted a shoulder and dug up another spoonful. “I quit.”
“You told me that already. I guess I’m asking you to elaborate since you came home having a meltdown, and I had to get back on the call.”
“Yeah, about interrupting your call. I’m so sorry.”
“I’m sorry I couldn’t drop everything to be a shoulder.” She gave an amused grimace. “Thank God his connection went down. He would have gotten an earful and an eyeful.”
The tips of my ears grew hot. I wasn’t entirely sure he hadn’t at least seen or heard something. I’d been having a pretty epic meltdown and basically stripping out of my work clothes before I’d realized Tabs’ computer was open on the table. It was disconnected when I turned around. And he’d called back and hadn’t said a word. I had to just hope and pray that was the truth.
“So, what did you tell him?” I asked.
“Don’t change the subject. We can talk about the sad, hot, Frenchie later. First spill.”
“Sad? Why?”
She shook her head. “Nope.”
“Fine.” I planted the spoon into the leftover ice cream and set it on the table—I was starting to feel mildly ill from how much I’d eaten anyway. I brought Tabitha up to speed on the events that had transpired that morning.
When I was done, she sat with her mouth hanging open. “I knew it,” she burst out. “The old boys club continues alive and well. Obviously you’re going to file a complaint.”
“To who? Barbara? Mr. Donovan’s assistant? There’s no Human Resources department in a company that small.”
“The newspaper then.”
“Tabs, no.”
“Josie. This is egregious!”
“I know, okay?” Tears pricked my eyes. “I know it is. It’s disgusting and unjust. But I can’t put my name out there by going to the news. You know I can’t. It would destroy what little amnesia people have developed about my stepfather. It would kill my mother to have all that trotted out again. I have no recourse. None.”
Tabitha crossed her arms and began pacing the living room. “There has to be something.”
“Look. Tabs. I’m raw. Just let me process this. Let me break the news to my mom. And then I’ll try and see what comes next for me.” And how the hell I’d pay off my student loans now. I let my head fall back.
She stopped and came over, plopping on the sofa next to me. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I’m just mad on your behalf.”
“I know. And I love you for it.”
“Have you told Meredith yet? Wait. No, don’t. I’ll do it. She needs to get out of work early. We need an emergency girlfriend session. Girls night is starting at,” she glanced at her watch. “How about four o’clock? You better eat something better than ice cream so we can drink. Coz we need to drink to strategize revenge.”
“Can we table revenge and simply strategize about where I might get another highly respected job doing what I spent eight years training for?” My heart thumped heavily. It felt suddenly as though I was letting my father down. And my mother. And not just myself. Had I done the right thing? I was going to need to apply to a bunch of firms as soon as possible.
“Fine. We’ll throw some ideas around. But then we are going to come up with a way to castrate those assholes.”
“A bag of dicks,” said Meredith calmly, her hazel eyes focused on not spilling a drop of her Pear Blossom Martini as she brought it to her mouth.
I felt my eyebrows rise as I set down my Gin and Elderflower Tonic. “I’m sorry, what? It sounded like you said bag of d—”
“Dicks. I did. So, there’s this service and you can anonymously go on and type in your nemesis’ name and address. Then a few days later, they get a package in the mail. All mysterious. They open it up and it’s like a literal huge bag of edible dicks. So many dicks, they’ll go on for days. And they’re gummi right, so like do they eat them? But there are so many of them. Do they give them away? Throw them away in shame? And,” she chortled, “if you’re extra salty you