Roerke. I wonder if anything did happen the other night. I am also self-conscious about my little incident, and I don’t really want to talk about it.
“Morning, Tonya. How was the rest of your weekend?” Deb is always good at sparking conversation without ever making anyone feel uncomfortable.
“It was all right. Quiet, but restful. How about you?”
“Great. I was feeling a little rough on Saturday, so Bud took the kids to his parents’ place. He’s great that way. I slept a good part of the day, and then I went and got a massage. You missed some interesting things the other night.”
“Oh yeah?” I don’t really want to talk about the other night.
“Cindy ended up going home with Patrick!” Although she says this in a whisper so no one can hear, her excitement is apparent.
I’m shocked; I didn’t see that one coming. If I were to predict who she’d end up with that night, it would have been his father. I wonder if Dr. Roerke knows. I’m not usually involved in the office gossip, but this I find fascinating and beginning to resemble a captivating soap opera.
“Really? Does Tom—I mean Dr. Roerke—know?” The question is out before I can contain it.
“Yeah, he knows. Cindy called me yesterday and told me all the gory details. I guess she and Patrick started dancing and it got pretty sexual, if you know what I mean—it looked like they would do it right then and there! You were gone, and then Pat and Cindy left. Bud, Nicole, and I were there, and Tom asked us where everyone else was. Bud and I had enough sense not to speakup, but Nicole had no idea. She blurted out something like ‘she and Patrick left to fuck.’ I thought Tom would be angry, but he actually looked like he was about to cry.”
“Oh my, that’s going to make it awkward around here,” I say.
“I don’t think Tom ever thought something like that could happen, you know, with Patrick being so introverted. What happened with that guy—Kirk? Bud said you were pretty upset.”
“Oh, it was nothing really, an overreaction. I think I just had too much to drink.”
“Well, he looked a little distraught after you left. He asked me for your number.”
“I hope you didn’t give it to him?” It’s more a question than a statement.
“I did. You guys looked like you were having so much fun I figured whatever went wrong, you could talk about it. He seemed really into you, Ton,” she explains.
“Oh, I wish you hadn’t.”
“What happened? Did he say something to offend you?”
I’m surprised she doesn’t remember my outburst, but then again she did have quite a bit to drink.
“He’s just not my type, that’s all.” I hope she’ll just drop it.
No such luck. “Come on, Tonya. Admit it—you had fun with him. He was cute too!”
“Yes, but he is definitely not someone I would ever be serious about. Can we just leave it at that?”
We do leave it at that because then Cindy comes to my desk to get the charts. She smiles at me, and it’s immediately clear she has no recollection of seeing me the other night. I am relieved that I won’t have to defend my actions with her or Dr. Roerke. I look at her and wonder whether she is embarrassed that she slept with Patrick, who is five years younger than she is and is the boss’s son. She has always seemed so confident that I can’t imagine her feeling humiliated about anything.
The day remains one of uncomfortable courtesy—Cindy with Dr. Roerke, Deb with Dr. Roerke, and me with Deb. This is why you shouldn’t mix work and play. Luckily Patrick is not working until the end of the week, because this uneasiness could be much worse.
At home, I am content to just veg in front of the TV. I half thought I would go out for a jog since I missed it this morning, but as soon as I enter my apartment, I realize that was just wishful thinking. There is a message flashing on my machine. I press play, thinking thatit is probably Sandy trying to make plans for the holidays.
“Morning, Tonya. How was the rest of your weekend?” Deb is always good at sparking conversation without ever making anyone feel uncomfortable.
“It was all right. Quiet, but restful. How about you?”
“Great. I was feeling a little rough on Saturday, so Bud took the kids to his parents’ place. He’s great that way. I slept a good part of the day, and then I went and got a massage. You missed some interesting things the other night.”
“Oh yeah?” I don’t really want to talk about the other night.
“Cindy ended up going home with Patrick!” Although she says this in a whisper so no one can hear, her excitement is apparent.
I’m shocked; I didn’t see that one coming. If I were to predict who she’d end up with that night, it would have been his father. I wonder if Dr. Roerke knows. I’m not usually involved in the office gossip, but this I find fascinating and beginning to resemble a captivating soap opera.
“Really? Does Tom—I mean Dr. Roerke—know?” The question is out before I can contain it.
“Yeah, he knows. Cindy called me yesterday and told me all the gory details. I guess she and Patrick started dancing and it got pretty sexual, if you know what I mean—it looked like they would do it right then and there! You were gone, and then Pat and Cindy left. Bud, Nicole, and I were there, and Tom asked us where everyone else was. Bud and I had enough sense not to speakup, but Nicole had no idea. She blurted out something like ‘she and Patrick left to fuck.’ I thought Tom would be angry, but he actually looked like he was about to cry.”
“Oh my, that’s going to make it awkward around here,” I say.
“I don’t think Tom ever thought something like that could happen, you know, with Patrick being so introverted. What happened with that guy—Kirk? Bud said you were pretty upset.”
“Oh, it was nothing really, an overreaction. I think I just had too much to drink.”
“Well, he looked a little distraught after you left. He asked me for your number.”
“I hope you didn’t give it to him?” It’s more a question than a statement.
“I did. You guys looked like you were having so much fun I figured whatever went wrong, you could talk about it. He seemed really into you, Ton,” she explains.
“Oh, I wish you hadn’t.”
“What happened? Did he say something to offend you?”
I’m surprised she doesn’t remember my outburst, but then again she did have quite a bit to drink.
“He’s just not my type, that’s all.” I hope she’ll just drop it.
No such luck. “Come on, Tonya. Admit it—you had fun with him. He was cute too!”
“Yes, but he is definitely not someone I would ever be serious about. Can we just leave it at that?”
We do leave it at that because then Cindy comes to my desk to get the charts. She smiles at me, and it’s immediately clear she has no recollection of seeing me the other night. I am relieved that I won’t have to defend my actions with her or Dr. Roerke. I look at her and wonder whether she is embarrassed that she slept with Patrick, who is five years younger than she is and is the boss’s son. She has always seemed so confident that I can’t imagine her feeling humiliated about anything.
The day remains one of uncomfortable courtesy—Cindy with Dr. Roerke, Deb with Dr. Roerke, and me with Deb. This is why you shouldn’t mix work and play. Luckily Patrick is not working until the end of the week, because this uneasiness could be much worse.
At home, I am content to just veg in front of the TV. I half thought I would go out for a jog since I missed it this morning, but as soon as I enter my apartment, I realize that was just wishful thinking. There is a message flashing on my machine. I press play, thinking thatit is probably Sandy trying to make plans for the holidays.
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