Authors: Eileen Cook
I fought the urge to hold on to his elbow, perhaps jumping onto his back to keep him from leaving.
“Don’t leave mad.” I looked around the room for something to entertain him. “I made a lemon tart for dessert.”
“I don’t want dessert. I want things the way they were, when you made time for me.”
“I’ve been busy lately. I have a job, a life.” I threw my hands up in the air. “What do you want from me?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know anymore.”
We stood in the doorway. He waited for me to have something to say, but there was nothing left. He left, pulling the door softly shut behind him; the latch gave a tiny click, the space between us severed.
Rooster came up behind me, his nails clicking out Morse code on the hardwood. He gave the tips of my fingers a small lick. I slid down the wall, throwing my arms around his neck. Rooster lay his muzzle down on my neck. I pulled the dog close, my tears disappearing into his fur.
“You okay?” I didn’t look up. I know she’s a kid, but honestly some things should be self-explanatory. It was quiet, but I could tell she hadn’t left the room.
“Do you need something?” I asked her.
“Can I do anything?”
“No.”
“You’re better off without him you know.”
“No, actually I don’t know. And you don’t know either.” I stood up. I held up a hand before she could say anything else. “You can pretend to be anything you want, it really doesn’t matter to me, but don’t you dare pretend to know what is best for me.
“What if I told you I wasn’t pretending?” She looked at me her eyes wide. “If I did know what was best and all you had to do was listen?”
I looked at her. She wanted me to believe that she had some kind of magical knowledge.
“I’d tell you I thought you were full of it.” I went into my bedroom and slammed the door.
Diana was gone when I got up in the morning. Nothing like a regret hangover to start the day. I should yell at underprivileged kids more often, it left such a great feeling. Maybe later I could kick some puppies and push a few elderly people down for kicks. I checked my e-mail, but there was nothing from Jonathon. I paused over the keyboard, wondering if I should send him a message; my fingers hovered as if I were preparing to play a complicated piano concerto. I would like to believe that my honor and pride kept me from doing it, but if I’m honest with myself it was more of a case of not being able to think of a single thing I could say that would make the situation better. I filled Rooster’s dog bowl and the two of us enjoyed breakfast together. Never underestimate the enjoyment of sharing a meal.
My parents always ate breakfast together. My mom would get up early and make a proper breakfast for all of us. She was never one of those dowdy housewives shuffling about in a stained bathrobe. She woke before everyone and when she would nudge me awake she would already be dressed, her makeup on, and smelling of perfume. The smell of jasmine reminds me of those early mornings. No cold cereal or granola bars for our family. We would head off to our days with our bellies full of pancakes, scrambled eggs with cream cheese and green onion, homemade scones or an Italian sausage and roasted veggie frittata. In the winter she would make hot chocolate by grating dark chocolate into a pan of simmering milk. She would add vanilla, cinnamon, and sometimes some orange zest. My sisters and I would all hush a bit when my dad would come downstairs, his tie undone and his mood for the day still uncharted. A bad mood was signaled with a rustle of the paper as he would disappear behind the news, a good mood heralded with a playful smack on my mother’s behind and a whisper in her ear. I couldn’t have grown up in a more traditional home. We could have posed for catalogues, we were so picture-perfect.
The Positive Partnership program is based on the idea that having a healthy mentor will make all the difference for these kids. If mentors made all the difference, it would stand to reason that my happy normal childhood should have left me with the keen ability to sniff out healthy relationships. My sisters had been able to do it, finding nice, stable men. They were busy pushing out the next generation of Callighans. I seemed to be the only one with no sniffer. Rooster nuzzled my lap, his nose cold and wet, pressing into my skirt.
I was late for work. Shared breakfasts take longer than eating alone. If Rooster and I were going to develop a longer term relationship I was going to have to set the alarm a bit earlier. When I finally got to work, I sat at my desk making a list of what I would need to bring with me today. We were going to do the show from the Seattle Culinary Academy. Colin would participate in their semester end cake baking/decorating contest. I would sit on the sidelines with the judges. Pam left a Post-it on my desk with an inspirational quote. I was starting to get the sneaking suspicion that Pam was the kind of person who subscribed to one of those quote-a-day services. I imagined she gave the Chicken Soup for the Soul series to people for Christmas. I bet her relatives can’t stand her.
Wayne popped his head around the cubicle door.
“Knock-knock.”
One of my pet peeves is people who say “knock-knock” to those of us who are cubicle dwellers. It smacks of driving the point home that there is no door.
“Who’s there?” I said with a sing-song.
“It’s me.” He stopped, perplexed. Only Wayne wouldn’t get the reference to knock-knock jokes.
“I know it’s you, Wayne. It was a joke. No worries. It wasn’t a good joke.”
“Yes, well then.” He wiped his hands on his pants and looked around my cubicle as if searching for a small talk topic. He looked for a minute as if he were going to lean against the cubicle wall and I knew if he did it would go down, taking out my neighbors. He seemed to sense it to because he stopped and settled for crossing his arms.
“What can I do for you?”
“I got a call this morning from the Positive Partnership group. Your mentor partner Diana is missing.”
“Missing?” I had a sudden vision of a milk carton with a picture of Princess Diana in a tiara on the side with a big “Have you seen me?” caption underneath.
“Her mother reported she was gone.” I was shocked her mother noticed. My brief meeting with her left me feeling she was the kind of person who wouldn’t notice a nuclear explosion unless it upset her empty beer can collection sculpture. “Diana has a history of running away, but understandably the program is still concerned. There are some issues with the mother.”
I opened my mouth to tell him that she hadn’t run away, she was staying at my place, but then I shut it with a snap. I had a flash to the folder we had gotten with the program. I was pretty sure there was some kind of rule about having the kids stay the night without parental approval. Great, as if things weren’t going poorly enough, I was going to be charged with child abduction.
“She told me she and her mom were having some problems.” I twirled a pencil around. “I’m sure she’ll show up in a day or two.” None of these statements were a lie. I wondered if this would count for anything when Nancy Grace was going at me on CNN for child endangerment charges.
“I hope so. Kids like her have it hard.” Wayne sighed. “I really do appreciate you participating in the program. I’m a big believer those with a high profile here at the station need to be involved in the community. Would you have an interest in heading up the toy drive this Christmas?”
“Christmas is a few months away.” This seemed a safer answer then admitting I didn’t do well with kids. It wasn’t that I disliked them; I just didn’t know what to do with them. It had been my experience that children were frequently leaking some type of body secretion and the really young kids all had some kind of speech impediment where other people seemed to be able to make out what they were saying, but I never could. I did my part with my sisters’ kids, I hadn’t planned on taking on any others.
“True, but we want to take out some advertising, some of those side-of-the-bus panels with you and Colin. We’re thinking of a Naughty and Nice theme.”
I looked up at Wayne and he gave me a smile. I smiled back.
“Are you saying I’ll still be doing the show in a few months, Wayne?”
“I’m saying congratulations. You’ve got yourself a permanent slot on He Said, She Said, and in January we’ll move you off contract status.”
I jumped up and threw my arms around Wayne with a squeal.
“Hey now, you’re going to start rumors.”
“I always did see you as a lady’s man, but I didn’t think you were the kind to steal,” Colin said coming into the room.
“Did you hear the news?” I asked.
“What news?”
I opened my mouth to tell him, and Wayne cut me off.
“I was just telling her what a great job she’s doing.” Wayne pulled me close in one of those hearty one armed hugs. Suddenly I was getting the feeling that Wayne and I had a secret. I tried to meet his eyes.
“I had no idea you got that excited about a little positive feedback,” Colin said with his arms crossed.
“Colin, I was going to talk to you directly, but I happened to catch Erin first. We’ve offered her a permanent slot on He Said, She Said.”
Colin didn’t say anything.
“I’m sure you’ve seen the ratings, Colin. All of us at the station couldn’t be happier.”
“You should have talked to me first, Wayne. You know that. It is my show.”
“Our show,” I interjected. Colin shot me a look.
“I stand corrected.” Colin’s mouth pressed into a thin line.
“There you go. You two make a great team. You and I can chat later, Colin. You two knock ’em dead today with your live feed.” Wayne brushed past Colin and all but scurried out of the office. Colin watched him go down the hall. The cubicles around us were silent straining to hear what would happen next. I could see a muscle in Colin’s jaw tightening.
“The station hired a car to take us to the culinary school. It’s waiting downstairs.” Colin walked out. I grabbed my things and jogged after him. I caught up to him in the stairwell. He didn’t stop; he just kept taking the steps at a fast lope.
“Tell me you aren’t pissed.”
“I’m not pissed.”
“You are pissed.” I puffed a bit trying to match his pace, not easy for someone with short legs, not to mention high heels.
“If you know how I’m feeling, then you shouldn’t have to ask. Think of all the time you’ll save,” Colin said.
“I just can’t believe that you’re pissed over the fact I’m doing well. Look, I’d rather have my own show too, but this is the offer on the table.”
Colin stopped so suddenly that I almost slammed into his back.
“You know, for someone who is so insecure you have an ego the size of fucking Manhattan. How I am feeling has nothing to do with you. It was my show. Do you understand? My show. The issue isn’t you. The issue is how this station deals with me and my contract. You, my dear, are only window dressing to the situation and my feelings.” He turned and continued down the stairs.
“Window dressing? Insecure?” I could feel the vein on the side of my temple starting to pound. “Would you stop so we could talk?”
“No. We’re late.” Colin pushed the door at the bottom of the stairs and we both spilled out into the lobby. He gave the receptionist a smile and a nod. The receptionist clearly has a thing for Colin. Every time he enters the building she treats it as an event on par with the coming of a minor deity. I’m shocked she doesn’t sprinkle rose petals in his path. Her face flushed and she stood as if he were a four star general. If she genuflected I was going to have to deck her. Everyone treated Colin with kid gloves like he was some kind of major star who should have his M&M’s color separated in his office.