can’t anyone just be nice and normal? Act courteous and kind? I don’t get it.”
This is a rhetorical question as we all know, but Laura scowls in commiseration with me. “Because guys are idiots!” she proclaims.
“Hey.” Jonathan protests on behalf of his gender.
“You know what I mean,” she chides, reaching out to turn on the radio. Suddenly Van Halen’s “Ain’t Talkin’ bout Love” is blasting at us. She smiles ruefully at me as she turns down the volume.
But I’m not sure Jonathan does know what she means. He looks a little put out.
I receive a call from Katie later that evening. She finally sat Mike down and told him.
“He was shell-shocked at first,” she tells me. Her voice holds an undercurrent of excitement. Mike is at a Red Sox game with some friends, allowing Katie to relate the story to me without having to whisper. “He just stared at me and didn’t say anything for a long time.”
“Uh-huh,” I comment, anticipating the rest.
“But then this kind of slow smile crept across his face. He was so adorable, Andy. He gave me a huge hug. He’s happy about the baby. He really is.”
“That’s great.”
“I feel so relieved. I don’t know why I waited so long to tell him.”
“What did he say exactly?”
“He asked me how I was feeling and if everything was okay. He couldn’t believe he was going to be a dad again. And don’t go reading anything into this, but he thinks we should postpone the wedding plans until after the baby is born. I can’t be planning for a wedding and a baby at the same time, and I definitely can’t be walking down the aisle with a belly out to here.”
“I’m not going to read anything into that, Katie.”
“Yes, you are. I know how you think.”
Her comment rubs me the wrong way--even though she’s mostly right. My impression of Mike hasn’t spontaneously generated itself. I take a deep breath. This is none of my business. “I’m glad you’re both happy about the baby. And I’m here if you need anything. You can talk to me about anything, and I promise not to make any judgments. Okay?”
“Okay,” she repeats.
“Besides, celebrities are having babies out of wedlock all the time. It’s totally trendy right now.”
“That’s me. Always following the latest trends. I bought the new iPhone and soon I’ll have a baby bump.”
sixteen
I finally get around to leaving my car at the shop to have the bumper repaired, and I rent a car from the conveniently located rental agency next door. I depart the repair shop in a blue Hyundai Sonata that rattles and smells of mold.
“Rob wants to see you,” Joan states. I nearly stroll right by, ignoring whatever greeting Joan has offered this morning. But then my caffeine deprived brain realizes she’s said something else.
“What?” I ask stopping several paces past the reception desk, my full coffee sloshing in its cup.
“Rob said he wanted to see you as soon as you got in.”
Rob never asks to see me through a third party. He always just stops by my cubicle or relates information to me when he runs into me in the hallway. I stare at Joan as though her uninterested expression holds the answer.
Her eyes focus on a spot behind me. “Good morning,” she chimes. A new sales guy, whose name I don’t know, nods and walks by.
I turn and hurry to my desk, dropping my bags on the floor of my cubicle, and taking my coffee with me to Rob’s office. If I were being laid-off, I didn’t think it would happen this way, although the nervous butterflies in my stomach obviously know it’s a possibility. More likely, it’s about the white papers again, and the fact that features are being pulled. But why would he have Joan instruct me to go to his office for that?
I find Rob in his usual position, behind his desk, banging on his keyboard, the top of his head reflecting the fluorescent lights.
“Hey Andrea,” he says when he notices me in his office doorway. “Why don’t you shut the door and have a seat.” He taps a few more keys, finishing whatever he’s working on, as I sit down in one of the two chairs across from him. Then he turns and focuses his attention on me.
“Did you see my email about the features being pulled?” I ask. “I’ll have the rewrites for you this week.”
He thinks for a second, seeming to scan his brain for information. “Oh, right. Thanks.”
I