MAURA

I sat at my desk finishing up progress notes from the past couple of days. Over three-fourths of my list had been completed; not bad, considering it was only Wednesday.

I crossed another note off my list. Even though it was the end of the day, I decided to stay at the office until my final six notes were recorded.

God, I love crossing things off a list. Is that weird?

Before I could rationalize why it wasn’t weird, I heard someone tap on the door. It was Thomas, still wearing his coveralls.

“Hey,” I greeted.

“Hey.” He cleared his throat. “So, um, we just finished our last day out there.”

“I know. Big day. Were they sad?” I waited for a report of some sort of dysfunctional behavior.

“No, not really,” he continued to stand in the doorway, “but that’s probably because I told them I was coming back in the fall.”

“Oh, you are?” I hadn’t meant for my voice to sound so surprised. It had crossed my mind that Thomas may not want to continue volunteering his time, but I’d avoided thinking about it because I didn’t want to think about how I would no longer see him on a weekly basis. Just as I had avoided thinking about today being his last day.

“Uh, yeah, I mean, we didn’t even really get started on the other car so, it just makes sense to stick around until that’s finished.” He paused. “That is, if you guys decide you want to keep me around.”

It wasn’t like him to fish for validation.

“Well, you managed not to try to baptize any of the kids or make out with them, so you’re doing better than some other volunteers we’ve had in the past,” I said. “Truthfully, we haven’t really talked about whether you would come back or not. I think we all hoped you would though.”

He nodded, now tapping his knuckles against the doorframe. What else did he want to tell me?

“So, that gala thing this Friday,” he began, but then stopped.

I nodded.

“Father Sean suggested that I go in case the donors wanted to talk to me,” he said.

I knew it made sense for him to be there, but I couldn’t get past Sean, someone who wasn’t even part of our staff, taking it upon himself to ask Thomas to be there. Okay, so I hadn’t invited Thomas, mostly because I didn’t want to see him there with Ashland. The two of them dressed in formal wear, with her internship officially over and there being no need to hold back on any public displays of affection…it was the last thing I wanted to see that evening. I stared at him blankly as thoughts of him making out with Ashland entered my head and left a knot in my stomach.

“Unless you don’t think I should go,” he said uncertainly.

“No, no,” I quickly corrected and forced myself to smile. “Of course. I think that’s a great idea. I guess I just thought maybe you wouldn’t want to go to something boring like that.”

“Well, I’d like to do anything I can to help make sure the program can continue, whether it’s for auto-mechanics or some other skill.”

He sounded so genuine. Now I felt guilty for being petty. I nodded and there was an awkward silence.

“Father Sean said you were going to give a report about the program. I thought it might be good if I looked it over before Friday?”

“Oh yeah, of course,” I confirmed, but didn’t offer any dates for when that could happen.

“Do you think maybe I could see it tonight?”

He sounded timid once again. I couldn’t blame him for his tone; even I was confused by all my pauses.

“Oh,” I attempted to shake myself out of my awkwardness. “Yeah, well,” I motioned for him to come into the office and sit down next to my desk.

I closed out of my progress notes and switched over to the report document. “Ann didn’t want me printing it out until she had a chance to go over it, but if you have time, you can read it right now. It’s about ten pages. But there are some graphs in there, so it’s not too long.”

“I don’t want to keep you here,” he backtracked.

“No, it’s fine, I was planning to stay later tonight anyway.” I turned my computer screen towards him.

“But it’s Wednesday. Don’t you have Mass?”

“I wasn’t planning on going tonight,” I said truthfully. I was not in the mood to hang out with the Blessed Sacrament Young Adult crowd on a day that wasn’t an obligation, even if my boyfriend was there. Thomas gave me a look of concern.

“Relax, I still go on Sundays,” I clarified. “Read away.”

He leaned in to get a better look at the report. We sat in silence for a good fifteen minutes. Unfortunately, while Thomas had something to read, I had nothing but my stupid rambling thoughts.

God, he smells good. What is that, aftershave? Why doesn’t he smell like gasoline or oil? Is it weird that I’m noticing what he smells like? Probably, yes. Why can’t I remember what Ethan smells like?

Finally, Thomas sat back against his chair, signifying that he was done reading.

“Sorry I had to sit here while you read. I know it’s awkward, but there are rules about access to my computer,” I explained. That was the truth. It was required…I didn’t do it because I liked how he smelled.

“Are you going to have to kill me now?” he joked, the first semblance of his personality to appear since he’d arrived.

“Not me. That’s Syd’s job,” I joked back. “So, do you have any questions?”

“Yeah. How was the symphony?” He grinned at his question that had nothing to do with my report.

“It was, uh…”

“That boring, eh?”

“God, yes,” I admitted on an exhale. I withheld the fact that the only redeeming quality of the night had been making out in Ethan’s car afterwards – very tamely, of course.

“I feel bad. My eyes started to glaze over about half way through. I mean, I feel like I should’ve liked it. All of those people are really talented. I couldn’t do what they were doing, but I just…didn’t like it. Guess I’m not cultured.”

“With an iPod playlist like yours? I’m shocked you would feel that way,” Thomas teased. I reflexively slapped his arm.

“Don’t tell Ethan. I told him I loved it. I think he already has plans for us to go to another one. But I think it’ll be at Christmas time. That one should be better, right?”

He shrugged.

“I couldn’t tell you. We mechanics aren’t really the cultured type.”

“You’re telling me that after living in New York City for four years you didn’t become the least bit sophisticated?”

“Hardly. Just pretentious,” he clarified. “But I usually reserve that skill for when I go to art galleries. I’ll have to show you sometime.”

I was caught off guard by his suggestion, especially since he maintained eye contact after saying it.

“Thanks, but I’ll let you save that skill for Ashland,” I meant for the statement to come across as funny. Too bad it sounded bitter. Attempting to recover, I quickly changed the subject. “So, besides my lack of appreciation for the arts, did you have specific questions about the report?”

“No, it all sounds good. I’m glad that I got to be a part of it,” he reflected seriously.

“We are too,” I spoke for the center as whole, knowing it would sound too personal to say that I was glad. I wasn’t ready to let him leave, so I kept the conversation going. “Hey, how were the batting cages with Sean? Besides him telling you that you have to whore yourself out for donations at the gala.” I was proud when I made him smile, a small recovery from my failed Ashland joke.

“Batting cages were fine. Except for the whole part where a priest kicked my ass at hitting.”

“I’m guessing Sean failed to tell you that he played for Notre Dame?”

Thomas’ mouth opened.

“Son of a bitch. Are you serious? Yes, he failed to share that small fact. Now I’m pissed.”

“Finley got you again. I tried to warn you about him,” I reminded. “He probably didn’t tell you because he thought you wouldn’t go with him if you knew. He tends to downplay how athletic he is just so he has someone to play with.”

“I take it you were tricked into the batting cages at some point as well?”

“No, not the batting cages, but I remember several horrible dates to the bowling alley and racquetball court.”

“Well, we’re just going to have find something we’re better at than him.”

“Good luck.” Trying to best Sean at anything had never worked out well for me.

“Just competitive when it comes to trivia about family-friendly films, eh?”

“You gotta stick to your strengths,” I said matter-of-factly. I glanced at the clock and hoped he would invite me to dinner like he had done in the past.

“So,” he said, noticing that I’d looked at the time, “I should probably get going.” He stood up and pulled out his keys, fiddling with them for a bit. “Thanks for letting me see that report. I’ll see you Friday night.”

“No problem.”

Maybe I should invite him to dinner?

I resisted. He probably had plans with Ashland anyway.

“Have a good night.”

“You too,” he nodded and walked out the door.

It seemed overwhelmingly quiet once Thomas left. What was I going to do over the summer when I had no excuse to talk to him?

Later that night, I was settling into my pathetic dinner of grilled cheese at home when my phone rang. It was my parents. Finally, a break from the silence that had enveloped me since Thomas left my office.

“Hello.”

“Hey, kiddo,” my dad’s voice answered back. “How’re you doing?”

“Fine. Just got home from work. Sitting down to a seven-course meal I made from scratch,” I kidded.

“Cold cereal?” he guessed knowingly.

“Close, but no. Grilled cheese.”

“Wow, stepping it up a bit. Did you use multiple cheeses? Maybe throw a tomato in there?”

“Please, it’s impressive I even turned the stove on.”

“You want me to send your mother over there to cook you something?” he half joked, but we both knew she’d do it if I asked her to.

“No, I’m good. I think I’ll let her have the night off. Did you call just to hear about my riveting dinner plans tonight?”

My dad always had a specific reason for contacting me.

“Well, I just wanted to wish you luck on your big fundraising shin-dig Friday.”

“Thanks Dad,” I said, still waiting for him to get to his real reason for calling.

He paused a moment.

“So, did you like the symphony? Your mom said you and Ethan went Saturday night.”

“It was okay. Kind of slow.” This small talk with my dad was starting to feel strange. There was another silence.

“And you really like this Ethan guy?”

There it was: the completely awkward question my dad had been holding back, but the real reason why he’d called.

“Uh…” I paused, unsure of what to say. My dad had made a point never to talk to me about my romantic relationships. He had relied solely on my mom to be his informant all these years. “Yeah…” my voice trailed off. We both knew I didn’t want to talk about it, especially with him.

“The only reason I ask is...well, I know things are starting to get kind of serious, and well, Maura...I don’t really know how to say this…”

I half expected him to forbid me to go to Vail, which was odd because my parents had never forbidden me from doing anything. They’d never had to.

“You just didn’t seem like yourself at dinner and I can’t stop thinking about it.”

“I wasn’t myself?” I feigned cluelessness.

“Yeah, I don’t know, you seemed different. I don’t know how to pinpoint it, and maybe you were having an off-day, but I just thought I’d call and make sure you’re okay.”

“Dad, I’m fine. I had a busy day at work and was just tired,” I reasoned. So what if it was a lie?

“I figured that might have been it. But I thought I’d call and make sure.” Another silence passed. “I know your mother and I joke a lot about wanting you to settle down, but I want you to know that what’s most important to us is that you’re happy.”

“I know, Dad.” I pushed away my dinner, no longer hungry.

“It’s just that...on your birthday, you didn’t really seem happy, and it seemed like Ethan didn’t really notice?” His tone had the inflection of a question, like he was seeking confirmation for his observation. “We were surprised he didn’t know how much you hate skiing and the snow.”

I stayed quiet.

“Maybe you guys are still getting to know each other,” he tried to backtrack. “I just want to make sure that as he gets to know you, he knows all of you, because I think you’re pretty great. I’d hate for him to miss out on something.”

“Thanks, Dad,” I managed to get out.

“And if he ends up not liking something about you, he’s an idiot.”

“Of course,” I agreed.

“Okay, well, that’s all I really wanted to say.”

“Well, thank you.”

“All right then. You have a good night,” he finished. Clearly, he called me without my mother’s knowledge; otherwise she would’ve insisted on talking to me for the next hour.

“’Okay, you too.” I hung up, feeling disappointed in myself.

No matter how much I tried to be the serious, devout Catholic woman I presented to Ethan, it was obvious to everyone else in my life that I could never be that person.