I'd worked on the computer systems at the county hospital for nearly three years. And in that time, I'd learned to dread the sound of footsteps outside my office door.
I hated interruptions.
And I hated them even more when they came in the form of Josh Withers, the living, breathing embodiment of the word 'douchebag.'
I knew it was him because of the way his heels tapped along the floor. Yes. Heels. Somehow he thought we didn't notice that he gained a good inch and a half in height whenever he switched from sneakers to his dress shoes. But we noticed.
Or at least I did. I noticed everything.
It was a curse.
"Hey McCabe." Josh leaned against my office doorframe and crossed his arms. "How's it going?"
I looked up from my computer, but didn't say anything. I didn't see the need. Whatever I said, Josh would ignore. Or use as a launching pad to jump into talking about himself.
And that's exactly what he did. "So the event this weekend, I was thinking of who to bring. There's this blond chick I'm seeing..." He mimed round shapes in front of his chest.
"Yeah?" I leaned back in my chair. There was no way to stop Josh once he got started. The only thing to do was let him prattle on until he got bored and wandered away.
"She's in town visiting her family for the summer, so of course she's bored and looking for a good time." Josh winked and grabbed his crotch. I tried not to wince. "So she's the girl I'm gonna take to that donors' function." He cleared his throat. "Just in case you were wondering where Brenda went."
"Where did Brenda go?"
Josh waved his hand. "She was getting too clingy. You know how it is. We decided on a mutual parting of ways."
"Yeah?" I wiggled my mouse when my screensaver kicked in, hoping he'd get the hint I was busy and leave.
I should have known better. "So this blond chick, her name is Tammy. Or Cammie. Maybe Sammie? Something like that. Anyway, I was thinking after the event I might take her out on my boat." He snapped his fingers like he'd remembered something. "Weren't you looking at boats? Which model did you end up with?"
I never mentioned getting a boat. This was just another one of Josh's attempts at dick-measuring. Sometimes I wished he'd finally just unzip and lay it out on the table. Cut to the chase. Get it over with.
Then something occurred to me. "Wait. The donor event is THIS weekend?"
Josh was just about to answer, when we heard another set of footsteps. I immediately recognized the shuffling gait of Hal Tarrington. My supervisor.
I hated footsteps.
"Hey, Mr. Tarrington! Looking good!" Josh was as smarmy as always. He shot me a quick glance before raising his voice. "I was just reminding Everett about the donor event this weekend."
Hal looked anxious. "You're going to be there, right Everett? And bring a date, too. Whoever you're seeing right now."
Hal was a pretty traditional guy. Always asking about my dating life as if it were any of his goddamned business. The fact that I didn't have a girlfriend seemed to confuse him.
"I'm bringing the blond I just met," Josh said, literally elbowing Hal in the side.
The two of them exchanged piggish noises about the virtues of blonds in the sack. I checked out immediately.
Expectations. There was no escaping them. You were expected to bring a girl to a function so that everyone could judge your mutual worth. 'Why is she with him?' 'What does he see in her?' 'How frequently do you think they fuck?'
If I was lame for not buying in to that bullshit, then I was lame and happy about it.
But then again, not meeting expectations could be a problem too. People asked questions. You have to do what others expect, at least sometimes. That way they'd have no reason to question your behavior. My mother taught me that. She called it being normal and polite. "You have to do things, Everett, even when they aren't what you want to do, because they're the right things to do."
Going to a stupid function just to appease my boss qualified.
I reassured Hal I would be there, while internally twisting myself into knots over who I could convince to come with me. Once Hal and Josh spotted Molly from HR, I was left blissfully alone to consider my options.
Until the alarm on my phone went off. I peeked at the screen, nodded, then flipped to my contacts and scrolled to my mother's number.
"Hey there, sweetie!" Mom trilled into the phone.
"How are you, Mom?"
"I'm good, hon, I'm good. Thank you for calling." She sounded genuinely happy. I mentally ticked that off today's to-do list. Make Mom happy. Check.
"Do you need my help with the house this weekend?"
My parents moved into a new place over a year ago, but there was still an endless list of home repair projects left to do. My father liked to imagine he could do it all himself.
It was better, for both of our pride, if I just showed up to visit my mom and was therefore coincidentally available to help my dad. It pained him to ask, so I didn't make him. I just cleared it with Mom beforehand.
My mother's voice dropped. "He's attempting to re-caulk the bathroom. I'm worried about his knees..."
"I'll be there. Just give me a cover story."
My mother raised her voice so my slightly hard-of-hearing father could 'accidentally' overhear. "I'm worried about you. You're not eating enough, Everett. I want you to come over for lunch."
"Good one."
"Thanks." She lowered her voice. "You're a good boy."
I pressed my lips together. There was always a little flare of guilt in the pit of my stomach when she said that.
I hated that my mom was so wrong. "Thanks. You're a good mom," I said to her. My usual refrain.
Once we'd hung up, I set my phone down and grabbed my work bag from the floor. Only to have the alarm go off again. I took a look at the screen and flipped over to my contacts with a sharp exhale.
"Hey Rett." My sister sounded harried.
"Hey Harper, how's Ellie?" My niece was about to turn one this Fall.
"Well she's... wait a minute, where the hell is she? She was RIGHT here?" I heard a scrambling noise, and then my sister's voice returned. "Rett, I have to let you go. She's currently got a mouth full of dust bunnies."
"Okay, you go deal with that."
"Thanks for calling." Harper hung up without saying goodbye.
I set my phone back down. There. I'd done everything I was supposed to do today. I'd worked. I'd checked in with my family. "I’d made promises to my boss.
Now I could do what I wanted to do.
Which was... what exactly?
It was a dangerous question. One with an answer I didn't like to consider.
"McCabe!" Hal called. I hadn't heard him return. "Second quarter numbers! Upstairs is asking for them!"
I exhaled heavily. Then turned back to do more of what I was supposed to do.