“I didn’t mean to put you on the spot, but I was glad you want to help us move forward with a plan to upgrade our systems,” Ms. Cedar said when everyone else had cleared out of the lunchroom.
“It’s definitely something I’m interested in,” I smiled broadly. “Do you have a timeframe on when you want to begin?”
I could tell she was thinking about something and whether or not she should tell me. “There are some exciting opportunities for the company coming up on the horizon.” She checked to see that those milling around in the mail room were out of earshot. “You do realize working with us will require a high level of discretion?”
I nodded.
“Good. We should start soon in order to have everything in place by the beginning of next year.”
Next year was so far away, but I knew it would take a lot to make such a big change happen. “Just let me know when you are ready to begin.”
Mr. Manor came in and stood next to me. “What did you think about today?” he asked, leaning on the counter at the front.
“I thought it was definitely valuable. The small-group breakout was new to me, but a lot of good ideas came out of it.”
He smiled and patted me on the back as he moved into the kitchen. I could hear him putting money into the soda machine.
“That really works?” I asked as he reappeared, taking a sip.
“It probably uses more electricity than it should, but the cans are always cold.” He squeezed past us and left the lunchroom.
“You did a great job keeping the discussion positive today.” Ms. Cedar stood there, smiling, which was a little unnerving.
“Do you really think it would have been a good idea for me to badmouth the place with one of the owners sitting there?” I said, trying to be funny.
However, she frowned.
“What?”
“Did you have something to say that you didn’t?”
“No.” I thought about what Alison told me about her experience. “I try to be honest all the time. Sometimes I’m a little too intense in how I express what I’m feeling, but you’ll hear what’s on my mind.” I hoped she understood what I meant.
“That’s good to know.” She looked around me and waved to someone. “Come on in.”
“Sorry to interrupt,”Alison said. “Are we still on for getting those newsletters done tonight?”
Ms. Cedar looked at her watch. “I better get going myself.” She looked at me sternly. “Don’t stay too late.”
As she walked away, I could tell that she was going to be looking out for me to stay on her straight-and-narrow path of success. I wasn’t sure if Alison was in her plans for me.
“What was that look?” Alison asked as we walked back to my desk.
“Which one? The one she gave me or the one she gave you?” I sat down and grabbed my mouse.
“Seriously, what was that?” Alison sat down next to me and crossed her legs.
“I think she is concerned you’ll be a bad influence on me.” I held out my hand to Alison. “Where’s the work order?”
“Can we do that later?”
I shook my head and handed her three blank forms and the sign-in sheet.
“Really?”
“No one skips to the front of the line without at least following some of the rules.” I gave her a pen and got ready to pull the text from our current system. “Fill that out while I do some setup work.” I opened up what was done last time, saved a new copy, and wiped out the old stories. “Where did you save your text?”
She leaned forward, and her leg brushed against mine. “I really don’t know,” she said, squinting. After putting on her glasses, she touched my screen while pointing to the location. “Try in there. I think it’s all three association’s articles in one file.”
“Did you follow the instructions?” I asked, looking at how some of the text was scrambled in translation from our current system.
Alison sat back and shrugged.
“There should be something in your operations manual about what not to do when you have text to send me.”
“Can you fix it?”
“Of course, I can.” I did some quick find-and-replace rounds to get rid of extra spaces and tabs. “Some of the stuff we’ll have to look for when I finish laying it out.”
“If it only took a few seconds to make right, why make such a big deal?” I could tell she was trying to justify her lack of compliance to the rules. “Am I right?”
I ignored her and copied the text for the first association into the template. By the time I was finished, it was a good amount for a four-page newsletter.
“Do you want me to finish this one up or get all three to this point so you can proof the text one last time?”
She looked at her watch. “Do the other two to that point. If I take the printouts home tonight, I can mark it up for you to finish tomorrow. Will you have time to do that?”
“Time to lay it out tonight or finish it up tomorrow?” I smiled.
“We are going nowhere until I get the other two.” She jabbed my arm. “I meant if your schedule was open enough to finish these up tomorrow.”
“Make sure you come to work on time and ready to work, not like this morning,” I said, working on the second newsletter. “Hand the changes off when you come through,” I added when she did not respond.
“No problem.” She watched me as I finished up the other two newsletters. “You’re pretty quick at this. How long have you been doing this?”
“When I was in high school, I started using machines like this, and in college, I had a job in the Computer Department laying out newsletters. So a bunch of years, although I’m getting back into it after doing other stuff for a while.”
We kept up the pace on the newsletters while chatting all the while. It is interesting how much you can learn from each other even when you are focused on the work that needs to get done. My hands were busy, but my mind was clear as we sped through the process. By the time the last printout came out, it was close to six. However, it felt like mere minutes had passed.
Alison looked through the pages, making sure nothing was missing. “I think that’s good enough for tonight.” She stood up and stretched. “Did you get permission to go out with me?” she asked, twirling her glasses before putting them in her pocket. Leaning against the door to the stairs, she added, “I’m ready when you are.”
“I’ll call home and be ready in a few minutes. Do you know where you want to eat?” I reached for the phone.
She nodded. “I was thinking we’d go where we went yesterday for lunch.”
“Isn’t that place a little pricey?” I remember distinctly that it was because I’ve got a partial photographic memory and could see the prices on the menu in my mind’s eye.
Alison took out her wallet, checked out how much money was inside, and put it back. “I can afford to treat, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
I’m not even sure if that was my concern. Spending time with her is really all that mattered. “I’ve got enough too. Go get yourself ready, and I’ll phone home.”
Alison pursed her lips and sighed before opening the door. “Fine, just don’t be long.”
She disappeared upstairs, and I picked up the phone to call Polly.
“I won’t be home until later,” I told my sister when she answered.
“Okay, have fun,” was all she said.
“Don’t you want to know why I’m going to be late?” I asked, slightly perturbed because I knew she wasn’t going to ask.
“Of course, I do, but unless you volunteer the info, I’m not going to ask.”
“Let’s settle this right now. If I ever tell you something and you want to know more, you can ask. Do you understand?”
“Who you going out with now?” she blurted out.
“Alison.”
“Again? Are you two dating or something? Did you ask her the questions you thought of last night?”
“Slow down. You have to at least let me answer something before asking follow-up questions.”
“Fair enough.”
“We are going to dinner, not a date, and I will ask her lots of questions as needed. Did that give you what you are looking for?”
“For now, but I reserve the right to ask more when you get home.”
“Sure you do,” I said, laughing. “Kiss the kids for me, and I’ll see you all later.” I hung up, turned off my machine, grabbed my belongings, and headed up to get Alison.
As I got closer, I heard her talking to someone. Rounding the corner, I could see she was on the phone. I could not understand a word she was saying but could tell she was either arguing or yelling at the person. She turned to see me trying to sneak out and pointed to a chair. I plopped down roughly and spun around slowly while looking up.
On occasion, I could understand a word or phrase. Sometimes she would say a sentence or two in English but would usually lower her voice so I didn’t catch it all. I tried several times to get up and leave. However, she would snap her fingers, give me a dirty look, and once she threw a paperclip at me. Finally, after what seemed like a very long time, she hung up the phone loudly.
“I’m ready to go,” she announced, standing up and grabbing her stuff.
I held up my hands and stopped spinning. “Are you okay?”
She sat down again and looked at me. “What are we doing?” she asked.
“Going out to dinner.” I leaned forward. “Is that a problem?”
“No.”
“Does someone else think it’s not a good idea?”
Her reaction let me know that was the subject of her call.
“Oh,” was all I could say.
“Dinner is fine.”
“Right, dinner is fine.” I stood up. “Nothing more.”
“Are you okay with that?”
I’m not sure if more words would help or ignite the situation into something else. “I want to spend time with you. Call it what you want—dinner, work, whatever. If friends are all we can be, I’m okay with that if you are. Does that make sense?”
Her eyes filled up, and she wiped them with a tissue. “You never make sense to me. You either overcomplicate or oversimplify everything.” She grabbed another tissue and blew her nose. “I am being told to not do something, and here you sit, okay with that.”
“Let’s pretend there are two ways this could end. First, I get upset and say some nasty things about you, your parents, and your culture. Second, I graciously take whatever is offered from you, your parents, and your culture. Maybe neither is acceptable to you. You might want me to get mad, sweep you off your feet, and drive off to start a new life together free from others’ opinions and beliefs. Truthfully, I am not sure what I really want yet.” I threw my hands up in the air and stomped my feet. “Enough about me. What do you want?”
“I want to make decisions for myself.” She dabbed her eyes.
“I don’t have parents anymore, just my dumb sister and her kids.”
Alison laughed.
“I listen to what she has to say, but in the end, it’s my neck on the line. She is usually right, and that has driven me crazy all these years. I’m not going to pretend that I understand your situation and the pressure you are under.” I crossed my legs and put my hands behind my head. “In the end, I want to be in your life and am willing to take up whatever space in it that you give me.”
“Are you okay with being just friends?” She stood up and walked over to me. “Can you honestly tell me that would work?”
“Being friends would take all the pressure off both of us, right?”
She frowned and then nodded slowly.
“Then we’ll be friends until we’re not.” I shrugged. “You’ll still flirt with me like always, right?”
“Flirt? That’s how I treat everyone,” she said, ruffling my hair.
I stood up, towering over her. “I do have a question, a serious one.”
“Go ahead,” she said, looking up at me.
“How were you able to start right away at this place? Didn’t you have another job and have to give notice?”
She stepped back like I was asking for her to share a deep, dark secret.
“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want.”
“Did your sister put you up to this?” She poked me hard in the chest. “Or do you really want to know?”
“It doesn’t matter,” I started.
“Then don’t ever ask me a question unless you want to know the answer. I thought we were clear on that.” She clenched her fists. “Talking about me or sharing what we’ve discussed with other people is off-limits. I will not tolerate that, and I do not want people in my life who are going to do that.”
“How in the world can I agree to do that?”
“I thought you already did agree to that yesterday. Remember that? I do.”
“I was telling my sister about my day,” I said, raising my voice.
“Keep me out of those discussions, and we can keep being friends.”
“You want me to choose between you and my sister?” I laughed. “You are not going to make me do that, are you?”
“That’s not what I’m saying.” She went back to her desk and grabbed her stuff.
“Don’t walk away from me,” I said, closing the space between us.
“You have no idea what I’ve been through!” she screamed.
“Make me understand,” I replied, matching her volume, banging on the desk.
She fell into her chair and began sobbing. “Please leave me alone.”
“I’ll leave, but remember it was because you told me to.” I turned and picked up my things. “I’m sorry the night ended this way. I am sorry that I yelled.”
“Please don’t go,” she said, barely audible. Although her makeup was a mess, I felt even more attracted to her. “You deserve to know.”
“Don’t tell me something unless you are ready.” I was sad, mad, and hurt all at the same time.
“I want to tell you.” She walked to me and grabbed my hands. “It won’t excuse my behavior, but it might explain it. I’ve told others before, and it never ends well.”
I knew our relationship was about to change, but I still was not ready when she whispered, “I was raped.”