“Well, after careful consideration, all I have to say to that is holy shit. That and maybe to ask you if you’d like a drink.”

“Ugh,” Elsie’s face paled, starting to look a little bit green so that Caleb smiled at her sympathetically. “No thank you to that one. I’m not sure I’ll ever take another drink again, to tell you the truth. Last night could quite possibly have been enough to last me a lifetime when it comes to all things alcohol.”

“Come on,” Caleb answered in a voice that was both chiding and full of good humor, “how old are you, twenty-one? No twenty-one-year-old could just be done with drinking, even if the hangover does make her feel like death.”

“I’m twenty-four, actually,” Elsie corrected him with an air of haughtiness that almost immediately made her feel completely ridiculous. “Not that it makes that much of a difference, I suppose. It doesn’t really matter how old I am, only that this morning was the worst I’ve ever felt in my entire life, and it’s not something I’m eager to repeat. I don’t know how you do that kind of thing night after night. Don’t you ever get sick of feeling like shit? Don’t you ever just get bored of being either drunk or hungover all of the time?”

Elsie regretted saying it almost as soon as the words came out of her mouth. She almost covered her mouth with her hands, but the image of Caleb’s mother doing that exact thing was too fresh in her mind, and so instead she settled for biting the insides of her cheeks. It was something she had done for as long as she could remember, since she was a child. Whenever she had said or was about to say something she shouldn’t, she would chew on the insides of her own mouth as if to keep it closed by force if that was what was necessary. She also did it if she felt a fit of laughter coming on or maybe a jag of tears she knew she wouldn’t be able to control, and for whatever reason she could feel those tears creeping up on her now. Perhaps it was at least in part due to the fact that she actually hated confrontations. There probably weren’t a whole lot of people who understood that about her, seeing as confrontations were something she seemed to get into almost all of the time, but it was true nevertheless. She hated the strange lightheaded feeling a fight gave her, hated the way her heart beat much too quickly and then continued to do so for what felt like forever afterwards. She hated how hollowed out a fight made her feel and how vulnerable. Typically, if a fight was to be had, she would spend the time of the aftermath on her own and recuperating solo style until she felt like she could be around people again without losing her mind. But now? Now there was nowhere for her to hide. She was still shut in that office with Caleb, who was looking at her with an expression she’d never seen on his face before. She wasn’t sure she even recognized that expression, only that it made her feel funny.

“That’s a very good question, Elsie. Why don’t you sit down?”

“Look,” Elsie answered quickly, using an enormous amount of effort to keep from turning and just bolting from the room, “if you’re going to give me some kind of a lecture, I’d really prefer that you didn’t. I don’t know if you noticed, but your mom is super-scary, and standing up to her isn’t exactly the easiest thing in the world. I’m honest to God not sure I have another fight in me at the moment. Especially not when I feel like such crap.”

“I don’t want to fight with you,” Caleb responded in a low, tired sounding voice that made it impossible for Elsie not to believe it. “Believe me, I’ve got no energy left to fight with. This has been a hell of a day, and you’re right, my mom is fucking terrifying.”

Elsie let out a little laugh and without really understanding why she was doing it or that she was going to do it at all, Elsie sat down in a heap in one of the large leather armchairs Caleb had set in front of his desk for his many important clients. She curled her legs up underneath her and wondered idly who else had sat in these fancy chairs. How many very famous, very rich, and very powerful people had sat in these chairs in front of Caleb and told him what they wanted from him. There was little doubt in her mind that he had told them predominantly what they wanted to hear, too. That was what happened with rich people, as far as Elsie could tell. (She couldn’t possibly know for sure seeing as she wasn’t now and probably never would be anything close to really and truly wealthy.) They got every single thing they wanted, whether it was good for them or not, whether they deserved it or not. They got what they wanted and that included being told each and every little thing they wanted to hear. That same thing would not apply for her, and she knew it. Elsie was about as far off from the sort of people who usually occupied these chairs as a person could get. She wasn’t somebody looking to give her business to Caleb and the Grant Corporation. There wouldn’t be a decision based on how well he was able to kiss her ass. She was somebody who was taking a paycheck from him for services provided, which meant that while she still technically worked for Cubed, she now worked for Caleb Grant as well. When you worked for a person, there were certain things that were simply out of your control. It was those unknown things Elsie feared now. She hated feeling like she was out of control; she hated it almost more than anything.

“Well if you don’t want to fight with me, then what do you want? An apology? I guess I might owe you one. That wasn’t very nice, what I just said. I guess I could tell you that I’m sorry for that.”

“No, I don’t want an apology either.”

“Well, then what?” Elsie asked with unmistakable exasperation coloring her voice. “I don’t want to play a guessing game with you. What is it that you want from me? Can’t you just say it? Don’t you think we’ve had enough drama for twenty-four hours? Because I feel like I’ve had enough to last me for the rest of my life.”

“I just wanted to say thank you.”

“For insulting you?” Elsie was incredibly caught off guard and could feel an intense heat envelope her body all at one time. Thank you? That was what he wanted, all he’d wanted from her when he’d asked her to sit and offered her a drink? Thank you? For some reason, a reason she suspected might have a little bit to do with her own deeply rooted prejudice against the extremely well to do, Elsie hadn’t considered that Caleb might even consider thanking her. Not for anything. It hadn’t even been the beginning of a thought in her head that he was a man who ever spent time thanking anyone, and for that assumption, she felt a deep and profound sense of shame. Maybe it was possible that Caleb wasn’t all of the vile things she had attributed to him, or rather while he was those things…he was several other things as well. When she realized this, her tired mind shoving the information to its forefront with a brutal efficiency, she felt her eyes well up with tears again, and this time wasn’t sure she would be able to contain them. It was only when she looked up and saw that Caleb had some of those same tears of his own that Elsie was able to get control over herself, and that was really only due to the extent of her surprise.

“You don’t have to thank me,” she answered quickly, averting her eyes and trying to look anywhere in the room but at his stunningly handsome face. “Really. I didn’t actually do much of anything.”

“Maybe not in your mind, but as far as I’m concerned you did a whole hell of a lot.”

“I bitched out your mother, is what I did. I’m surprised you aren’t firing me.”

“Why would I do a thing like that? She had me, Elsie. She had my number for sure. I was sunk, and she knew it. If you hadn’t stepped in, she could have done pretty much whatever she wanted to me and I wouldn’t have been able to think up a proper defense before she had me by the balls.”

“Yeah,” Elsie laughed hesitantly, still feeling like she was treading on uncertain ground but starting to get the impression that these words might be legitimately genuine. “I kind of got that impression. Well, then you’re welcome, I guess. Never been thanked for something so weird before, but you’re welcome all the same.”

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure,” Elsie answered, all of the once feeling very guarded again. “I guess I can’t stop you.”

“Why did you do it?”

“Why did I do what?” she asked with genuine surprise, feeling oddly uncomfortable and squirmy, which caused her to fidget uncontrollably in her seat.

“Why did you stand up to her? Nobody ever does, you know. Nobody. Ever since my dad died, it’s been that way. I don’t know, I think maybe she got this idea that she had to be strong enough to be both parents, you know? Like if she could be tough enough for the both of them, it wouldn’t matter so much that we didn’t have a dad anymore. The only problem was she took it too far. That and she let the money my dad made get to her. When he was alive, he saw to it that none of us got that way. He always talked about that, you know? He talked about how important it was for us to be humble because he came from a hell of a lot less than what we grew up with. He came from next to nothing, and he wanted us to know how easy it was for things to go back in that direction. He did what he could to make sure we all kept a level head, and we pretty much stayed that way until he died. It wasn’t until after, you know? It wasn’t until after that we all got a little bit screwy, each in our own way. Shit, I don’t know. I don’t even know what I’m talking about right now. I’m just talking out of my ass, maybe. Probably, even. Sometimes I think that’s what I’m best at.”

Caleb, who had been staring down at the top of his desk with a strangely dazed expression on his face while he spoke, looked up at her then. He did it quickly, with a jerk of the head so abrupt Elsie would have sworn she could almost hear the tendons in his neck creaking in protest. When he looked at her that way, he had a kind of a deer in the headlights thing going on in his eyes, and Elsie could tell that he was seeing her, really seeing her, for the first time since he’d begun talking. It was the oddest feeling, to see him look at her that way, like she was seeing something that maybe she shouldn’t be. For the first time, she was seeing a person completely laid bare, flayed open so that she could see his insides like the pages of a well-worn book. It wasn’t just that it was the first time for her to see him like this, either. It was the first person she could remember seeing so opened up, anyone outside of childhood of course, when all children still believed that the world around them would be good, and they would kindly accept the things that they were without harm or rejection. She would never admit it later, didn’t even like to admit it to herself in those times where she was caught between waking and sleep and more vulnerable to thoughts she could not control, but when Caleb’s stricken eyes met hers, then she was sure that she was seeing straight into his soul. That was what had done it. It must have been; there just wasn’t any other explanation. That look and the thought of his wounded soul was what got Elsie talking for real.

“You know you shouldn’t do that, right?”

“What?” He laughed in a shaken, maybe even resentful voice. “Talk a bunch of crap to someone I don’t really know who couldn’t care less? You’re right, I shouldn’t. I’ll make a mental note. Hell, I may even have my secretary print out a sign for me so I can plaster it on the back of my door and read it when I get to feeling verbose.”

“No, that’s not what I meant. And you shouldn’t do that, either.”

“Well now I’m confused. It sounds like there are a lot of things I shouldn’t be doing, according to you. Problem is, I don’t know what the hell they are.”

“And I’ve got no problem explaining it to you. For starters, quit saying such shitty things about yourself. Hasn’t anyone ever told you that it isn’t good for you?”

“No,” he answered back in a voice that sounded very close to astonished. “I don’t think they have.”

“Well they should have. That’s something my dad taught me. He said the more negative things you say about yourself, the more you’ll start to believe them and pretty soon the only things you’ll know about yourself will be bad.”

“Your dad sounds like a pretty wise man.”

“Yes,” Elsie said softly, swallowing hard against the lump that still formed in her throat when she spoke of her father even after all of these years, “he was.”

“He—?”

“And then there’s the second thing,” she plowed forward, knowing what Caleb was going to say and not wanting to allow the question to make it out of his mouth, “which is also important.”

“What’s that?”

“You have to stop making excuses for her.”

“Excuses? I don’t follow.”

“For your mother. You have to stop making excuses for your mother. It’s not good for her, and it’s going to fucking kill you.”             

“Nah, it’s not like that, Elsie. You saw a really bad example of her, that’s for damn sure, but it’s not like that all of the time. She’s got plenty of good things about her. I swear to God she does.”

“Of course, she does. She’s your mom. We all think that about our moms, and most of us are right. But that doesn’t mean you take ownership of things that shouldn’t be on you.”

“I don’t see how that’s what I’m doing.”

Elsie sighed and stood, and then she started pacing around the room with the agitation of a caged lion. She wasn’t sure why she was doing this. She didn’t even really want to do this, and yet she knew that she couldn’t keep herself quiet. She’d spent too much of her own life suffering what seemed like very similar heartache as Caleb was experiencing now to sit back and keep quiet. Because it seemed like he hadn’t yet learned the lesson she’d forced herself to understand a long time ago. He was still trying to make his mother into the superhero saint of his childhood, and at the same time, the part of him that was an adult was rebelling. It was pulling him in two different directions; it was probably at least part of why he acted like such a mess most of the time. Caleb didn’t know yet that it was alright for him to be his own man, and Elsie had a funny feeling that if she didn’t tell him the truth of the matter, nobody ever would. With as much resolve as she was ever likely to muster up, Elsie whirled to face Caleb, oblivious to the way he couldn’t take his eyes off of her; oblivious to the way he now seemed to be entirely enthralled by everything she was doing.

“Okay, here’s the deal, Caleb. Listen to me carefully, if this is something you want to know, because I’m not ever going to talk to you about this again. It’s not something I talk about. It’s not something I ever talk about.”

“You don’t have to, Elsie. Whatever it is, you don’t have to talk to me about it. I’m not trying to pry into your life. I’m well-aware that self-exposure isn’t the kind of thing I’m paying you for.”

“Right, I know that, but it doesn’t change anything. Because I do have to tell you this. I don’t know why, but I do. And do me a favor, okay?”

“Sure, if I can.”

“Try not to mention the fact that you’re paying me every other sentence. It makes me feel a little bit like a hooker, and I’m not really down with that.”

“Ha! No, I don’t guess you would be. Okay, I’ll do my best with that, really. I’ll try, but if I slip up, which I probably will, just tell me to shut up, okay? Believe it or not, I don’t wake up every day just looking to be an asshole to the people around me.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I’ll remind you. Now do you want to hear this or not?”

“I do,” Caleb said quickly with an eagerness that made Elsie blush. “I definitely want to hear it, whatever it is you want to tell me.”

“My father died when I was young. I don’t know how young you were when your own dad died, but I get the feeling from the way you talk that you were pretty little. God, I mean neither one of us is all that old right now. Not to have lost a parent, I mean.”

“No,” Caleb spoke so softly it was barely above a whisper. “No, I guess we aren’t.”

“My daddy,” she continued, becoming consumed enough by her story now not to notice that she was calling her father by her little girl’s name for him instead of speaking of him as if she was an adult, “he was one of those men everyone wanted to be around. I know everyone says that about his or her father, but for me it was really true. At least for me it was true, and I guess that’s all that really matters for a story like this. My daddy was the best man there was, and for me, he was the best person there was. Because he understood me, see? I wasn’t the kind of daughter I guess a lot of moms would want. I wasn’t into playing with dolls or trying to learn how to bake. I didn’t give a shit about learning how to put on makeup or trying on a bunch of pretty party dresses or any of that kind of thing. I was into mechanical things, which turned into computer things.”

“Which must have been your calling,” Caleb interrupted eagerly, looking so sucked into the story that it would have struck Elsie as ridiculous if she’d noticed, “seeing as you’ve made it your whole livelihood.”

“Exactly. I was one of those kids that just kind of knew what kind of job I was going to do when I was older. Not the exact thing, but I knew what I was good at, and that’s what I wanted to do. I just wanted to get better and better at it, and even though my mom didn’t get me even a little bit, my daddy did. I think that even if he hadn’t, he would have done every single thing he could have to make himself understand. He was the glue that kept our family together, and when he went, everything just kind of fell apart. My mom didn’t get me any more than she used to, and she got a hell of a lot more afraid without my dad there to act as translator. She did her best, I know she did, but she didn’t get me. Things only got messier and messier, see. It took me a long, painful time to understand that her not getting me didn’t mean that everything was my fault. I had to figure out what the best way was for me to live. Not the way she wanted me to, not the way she would have preferred me to, but the way I was supposed to live. It’s the only way I got to the point where I could free myself, and it’s the only way you’ll be able to do it for yourself. It’s the only way you’ll be able to do it, and that’s something you deserve for yourself. You do, you know. You really, really do.”

Elsie stopped abruptly, feeling physically worn thin by all of the talking she’d just done. She wasn’t sure that she’d spoken that much at one time for years, probably not since she was a teenager, the age when many people felt the need to be talking almost all of the time. Even then, Elsie had been a relatively solitary girl, something that had been compounded by the death of her father, and it was possible that she had never before delivered such a monologue as the one she’d just performed for Caleb. When she glanced at him, something she very much did not want to do but found that she couldn’t have stopped herself from doing no matter how hard she tried to avoid his gaze, she could see that he understood every word she’d said. He’d understood it in the way she wanted him to understand, which was to say with something more than just his brain. He’d understood it with that soft, delicate part of him that could still be so badly hurt by his mother’s acid tongue and his need for her to love him despite the fact that he wasn’t measuring up. He’d heard her with the part of her heart that was still reserved for his long-deceased father, and she could see his face beginning to break apart with force of the sermon she’d just preached. She could see what he must have looked like at the funeral he’d described, before Marlin had told him he couldn’t cry that way any longer, and she felt her own heart lurch with the heartache of loss that never really went away.

That was when she knew she had to get out of there. She’d come to Caleb’s office with the intention of telling him what a piece of shit he was in every way she could possibly think of, but the memory of that intention was so far away it felt like it belonged to somebody else. She’d come to make him feel small and what she’d done instead was to give him a piece of herself she’d never given anyone before, and she was somehow sure she wouldn’t be able to get back again no matter how hard she tried. He had a part of her now, and if she didn’t get out of there as fast as fucking possible, he might realize it and decide to do something about it. She would be helpless to stop it, and that was something she couldn’t possibly allow. As he opened his mouth, she took a step backwards that was really more of a jump, and she let out a sharp exhalation of breath that almost sounded like a scream.

“You know what?” she spoke quickly, her voice manic now, “I just realized something.”

“You what?”

“I just realized I had a meeting I was supposed to be at. There’s a meeting I’m supposed to be at and I’m running so unbelievably late. I’ve got to go, but I’ll be back tomorrow, if that’s what you want. You can just shoot me a text or let Travis know or something. I don’t care how, just let one of us know what you want and I’ll be back again.”

She turned to flee then, doing a weird little half run, half walk she was sure the people in the office would be talking about for a good while after she was gone. She could hear Caleb calling after her, standing in the doorway of his vast office and calling after her as if he hadn’t a care in the world whose attention he grabbed, but she didn’t stop. Hell, if anything it only made her move faster. She didn’t stop because she couldn’t stop. In that moment, nothing in the entire world could have made her turn around and return to that man.