7
A determinedly cheerful Katie presented herself at her office the following morning, but the effects of her sleepless night were evident in the blue smudges under her eyes and the tightness of her normally spontaneous smile.
“Hi, Katie,” her secretary greeted. “Did you enjoy your four-day weekend?”
“Very much,” Katie said. She took the handful of messages her secretary handed her. “Thanks, Donna.”
“Want some coffee?” Donna volunteered. “You look as though you haven’t been to bed since Friday. Or,” she finished with an irrepressible grin, “should I say you look as though you haven’t been to sleep since then?”
Katie managed a wan smile in reply to Donna’s banter. “I’d love some coffee.” Glancing through the messages, she walked into her small office. She sat down in the chair behind her desk and looked around. Having a private office, no matter the size, was an important status symbol at Technical Dynamics, and Katie had always been proud of this external sign of her success. This morning it seemed trivial and meaningless.
How could it be that when she’d locked her desk on Friday she’d never heard of Ramon, and now the idea of never seeing him again was gnawing at her heart. Gnawing at her body not her heart, Katie corrected herself firmly. She looked up as Donna placed a white Styrofoam cup of steaming coffee on the desk.
“Miss Johnson would like to see you in her office at nine-fifteen,” Donna said.
Virginia Johnson, Katie’s immediate supervisor, was a brilliant, capable, attractive woman of forty, who had never married and who held the title of director of personnel. Of all the career women she knew, Katie admired Virginia more than anyone.
In contrast to Katie’s small, functionally equipped office, Virginia’s was spacious with lovely French-provincial furnishings and thick grass-green carpeting. Katie knew that Virginia was grooming her to take her place, that she intended Katie to be the next director of personnel.—the next occupant of this office. “Did you have a nice four-day holiday?” Virginia asked, smiling as Katie entered the room.
“Very nice,” Katie said, sitting down in the chair across from Virginia’s desk. “I’m not having such a good ‘today’ though; I can’t seem to get back into the swing of things.”
“Then I have some news that may fire your enthusiasm.” Virginia paused meaningfully and slid a familiar-looking form across the desk toward Katie. “Your raise has been approved,” she beamed.
“Oh, that’s very nice. Thank you, Virginia,” Katie said, scarcely glancing at the form which granted her a monumental 18-percent increase in salary. “Was there anything else you wanted to see me about?”
“Katie!” Virginia said with an impatient laugh. “I had to fight tooth and nail to get you that large an increase.”
“I know,” Katie said, trying to sound properly grateful. “You’ve always been terrific to me and I love the idea of the extra money.”
“You’re entitled to it and if you were a man you would have been making it before now, which is what I told our esteemed vice-president of operations.”
Katie shifted in her chair. “Was there anything else you wanted to see me about? I have an interview scheduled now. The applicant is waiting.”
“No, that’s all.”
Katie got up and started for the door, then stopped at the sound of Virginia’s concerned voice. “Katie, what’s wrong? Is it anything you could talk to me about?”
Katie hesitated. She needed to talk to someone, and Virginia Johnson was a sensible woman—in fact, the woman Katie most wanted to emulate. Walking over to the broad windows Katie gazed down seven stories below, watching the endless string of traffic. “Virginia, have you ever considered giving up your career to get married?” Turning abruptly, Katie found Virginia studying her with penetrating interest, her forehead creased into a frown.
“Katie, shall we be frank with each other? Are you considering marrying someone in particular or just looking toward the obscure future?”
“My future would definitely be obscure with him,” Katie laughed, but she felt tense and depressed. Nervously smoothing her hand over her perfectly neat chignon Katie explained, “I met this man—very recently—and he wants me to marry him and leave Missouri. He isn’t from here.”
“How recently did you meet him?” Virginia asked perceptively.
Katie actually blushed. “Friday evening.”
Virginia had a rich throaty laugh that was at variance with her diminutive size. “For a few minutes there you had me worried, but now I think I understand. Four days ago you met a splendid man, a man unlike any man you’ve ever known. You can’t bear the idea of losing him. Am I getting the picture right? He’s extremely handsome, of course. And charming. And he turns you on like no one else ever has. That’s it, isn’t it?”
“Just about,” Katie admitted, mentally squirming.
“In that case, I happen to have the perfect cure: I recommend that you don’t let him out of your sight unless you absolutely must. Eat with this marvelous man, sleep with him, live with him. Do everything together.”
“Do you mean,” Katie said in amazement, “that you think things could work out—that I ought to marry him?”
“Absolutely not! I’m suggesting a cure, not that you marry the ailment! What I’m prescribing is huge doses of the man taken around the clock—just like antibiotics. The cure is very effective and the only side effect will be a mild case of disillusionment. Believe me, I know. Live with him if you want to, Katie, but give up the idea of falling in love in four days, marrying him and living happily ever after. Which brings me to the question of why we always ‘fall’ in love. One falls down steps, off ladders, into rivers and down mountains. If love is so wonderful, why don’t we soar in love, or climb in love, or. . . .” She broke off at the sound of Katie’s infectious laughter. “Good, I’m glad to see you cheerful again.” Taking an interoffice memo from the stack of correspondence on her desk, Virginia smiled widely and waved Katie to the door. “Now go interview your applicant and earn that raise of yours.”
Watching the disgruntled young man leave her office twenty minutes later, Katie thought disgustedly that her secretary could have done a better job of interviewing him than herself. She had asked vague, general questions, not concise, pertinent ones, and then listened to his answers with total lack of interest. But her crowning achievement had come at the conclusion of the unfortunate interview. Standing up, she had shaken hands with him across her desk and regretfully advised him she couldn’t be very encouraging about his chances for a position as an engineer with Technical Dynamics.
Rather huffily, the young man had replied, “I was applying for a job as an auditor.”
“Well, not as an auditor, either,” Katie had mumbled tactlessly.
Still hot with embarrassment over her blunder, Katie picked up her phone and dialed Karen’s office number downtown. “How’re things in the newspaper business?” she asked when Karen’s secretary had put her through.
“Fine, Katie. How about you? How are things in the busy personnel office of mighty Technical Dynamics?” she teased.
“Awful! I practically told an applicant that he didn’t have a prayer of getting a job with us in any capacity.”
“What’s wrong with that?”
Sighing, Katie said, “Personnel people are supposed to have more finesse than that. Normally we say we don’t have anything available commensurate with their background and experience. It means the same thing but it sounds better, and it doesn’t hurt anyone’s feelings.” Katie ran her hand around the nape of her neck, massaging her tense muscles. “Listen, the reason I was calling was because I wondered what you’re doing tonight. I don’t feel like spending the evening alone.” And thinking about Ramon, Katie silently added.
“A few of us are going to the Purple Bottle,” Karen said. “Why don’t you meet us there? I might as well warn you, though, it’s strictly singles. But they’ve got a good singer and the music isn’t bad.”
Katie’s efficiency, if not her enthusiasm, improved after that. She spent her day solving the usual problems and settling the usual disputes. She listened to a supervisor complain loudly and at tedious length about a file clerk; then she listened to the file clerk’s tearful complaints about the supervisor. At the conclusion, Katie ignored the supervisor’s demands that the file clerk be terminated, and instead, she transferred the clerk to another department. After looking through the applications for employment she chose a file clerk who had impressed her during the interview as being extremely assertive and self-confident, and arranged for her to come in for an interview with the supervisor.
She calmed an irate accountant who was threatening to file a discrimination claim against the company because she had been passed over for promotion. She finished a survey on the company’s compliance with governmental safety requirements.
Between all that and interviewing applicants, Katie’s day flew by. At the end of it, she leaned back in her chair and somberly contemplated an entire life of days spent just like this one. This was “having a career.” Virginia Johnson had devoted all her energy, her whole life, to “having a career.” To this.
That restless, empty feeling that had been haunting her these past few months came over her again. Katie tried to ignore it and leaned forward to lock her desk.
Katie had the worst time of her life at the Purple Bottle. She stood around pretending to listen to the music, watching the men and women making their approaches. She was uncomfortably aware of three men who were sitting at a table directly on her right and looking her over—judging her assets, measuring her possible bed-worthiness against the effort required to approach her. Privately, Katie thought that all women who were considering divorcing their husbands should first be required to spend one night in a singles’ bar. After that degrading and demoralizing experience, many of them would run flying back to their husbands.
She left at nine-thirty, one hour after she had arrived, and drove back to her apartment. In the car, thoughts of Ramon haunted her. She had a life to live here and he couldn’t be part of it, while his life was too alien, too far away for her to even consider sharing it.
Katie went to bed at ten-thirty and after several hours, finally fell into a deep exhausted sleep.