Some days, when one thing goes wrong, it seemed to him that every other thing after that followed along. That day, it was little things, like forgetting to put the ice cream container back in the freezer the night before. The check engine light went on in his car that morning. He almost walked out of his house with two different shoes on. The kitchen faucet had a leak. He tripped while walking upstairs to the office.
Yes, those long talks with Karen every night were tiring. More tiring than he admitted fully. It was painful, sitting there listening to her go on and on about how they needed to commit to one another, how good they were together. How they needed to get to the next level in their careers and move forward – together. It physically exhausted him, to the point where paying any kind of attention to much else did not compute in his head.
He was aware that it would cost him sales if he couldn’t perk up. He skipped the coffee machine and headed straight through the kitchen toward the vending machine.
He couldn’t un-hear it. He could only stand in shock as he listened.
“Two weeks’ notice is usually customary, Pam. But I understand your situation,” Toby spoke in his usual whine. “If you can just get through today, I’ll call the temp agency and see if we can get someone here for tomorrow.”
“Thanks, Toby.”
“I’ll take care of it as soon as I file this paperwork about the stripper Michael had in here.”
“Yeah. I’m definitely not gonna miss this place,” she said wryly.
“Where are you headed?”
“Not sure yet, actually. We’ll see,” she shrugged, standing and extending her hand to Toby. “Thanks for making this easy on me, Toby. I appreciate it.”
“You’re welcome. Keep in touch.”
“I will.”
He supposed he should have remembered all of the things he and Karen had talked about for five nights, about all of the things he “uh-huh’d” through and agreed about. All he could care to really think about right then as he quietly slunk back into the kitchen, remaining unseen – why was she leaving, and why was it such short notice.
The year before he would have been privy to the information, she would have told him all about something as exciting as a new job prospect or an opportunity to delve further into her art.
A year later, they barely spoke, they never joked around, and she very clearly did not find the comment he made about the Ben Franklin impersonator being a good pick for her at all funny.
That was the way it was supposed to be, he reminded himself. She didn’t want him.
But as they stood face to face, staring at one another as she tried to walk through to the other side of the kitchen, the only thought that entered his mind was that after that day, he would most likely not see her again.
It should have been fine with him, no skin off his nose, no problem at all. He went his way and she went hers, he reminded himself.
“Excuse me,” she finally said, tears entering and leaving her lower lids. She turned her body sideways to get by him and walked toward the opposite door of the kitchen.
“You’re leaving?”
“You weren’t supposed to hear that,” she muttered as she continued to face the door. “I’d ask you not to tell anybody, but apparently you tell your girlfriend everything, even if you kiss someone and it doesn’t matter to you, so, whatever.”
“What do you mean?”
“Nothing. Just like you told her. It didn’t mean anything. It was just a kiss,” she spoke stoically, walking calmly back to the main office toward her desk.
Seven cuss words passed through his mind though he chose not to verbalize any of them. He didn’t have the energy to.
He walked slowly toward the reception counter, his hands tucked into his pockets. It hurt him in ways he couldn’t describe to see her packing things into a box.
“It didn’t mean anything. If it did…”
She cut him off. “It’s fine. You’re right. I don’t want to talk about it right now.”
“Michael’s gonna flip,” he said.
She nodded. “I know.”
He expected her to follow her statement with more details, an explanation, something.
“Do you need something, Jim?”
“So you’re just gonna leave, that’s it?”
“Yeah.”
Karen walked into the office as he was about to ask for more information as to where she would be going, why she planned to leave so abruptly, or the other hundred questions he had rolling around in his mind.
“Doing some spring cleaning?” Karen asked, eyeing both he and Pam suspiciously.
“Something like that,” Pam said coolly.
“Oh good,” Karen replied, turning to glare at him. “How about we get an early start on our sales so we can make what we talked about happen,” Karen said before walking toward her desk.
He rolled his eyes and walked back to his desk. The rustling behind him ceased after a few minutes, the noise replaced by a ringing phone. On the third ring, he turned around, only to find that no one sat behind the desk. He sighed, hoping to catch her at lunch to try to talk to her without Karen seeing. He wasn’t in the mood for another long chat.
An hour later, he called her cell phone while he took his break. It had been disconnected.
Three months later, Toby mentioned that he had heard from her, but she didn't say where she lived or what she had been doing.
He knew then, nothing would ever taste, smell or feel like anything, except empty.
.
Chapter End Notes:
Again... sorry xoxo
