Everett
the three years I spent working on the computer systems for the county hospital, I’d learned to dread the sound of footsteps outside of my door. I hated getting interrupted, and I hated it even more when the interruption came in the form of Josh Withers, a living breathing embodiment of the word douchebag.
His heels tapped across the tile floor outside of my office, and yes, I do mean heels. The guy didn't think anyone noticed that he gained a good inch and half height when ever he put on his dress shoes, but we noticed. Or at least I did. But then again, I was cursed with the ability to notice everything.
"Hey there," Josh called jovially, leaning against the doorframe of my office and crossing his arms.
I looked up from my computer and didn't say anything. I didn't see the need. Whatever I said, Josh was just going to ignore and use as a launching pad for talking about himself.
True to form, he did just that. "So that event this weekend," he said. "I was thinking of who I'm bringing. There's this blonde chick I got my eye on..." He mimed round shapes in front of his chest. "The tits on her. Work of fucking art man."
"Yeah?" I said, leaning back in my chair. There was no way to derail Josh once he got started. The only thing to do was be quiet and let him prattle on until he was finished.
"She's in town visiting her family for the summer, so she's bored and looking for a good time," Josh said, winking and grabbing at his crotch. I tried not to wince. "So she's the girl I'm thinking I'm gonna take to that function for the donors of the new wing," he went on saying. "Just in case you were wondering where Brenda went."
"Where did Brenda go?" I couldn't help but needle him.
Josh waved his hand. "She was getting too clingy, you know how it is. We decided on a mutual parting of ways."
"Yeah?" I said again, reaching across my desk to wiggle my mouse when my screensaver kicked in. I'd hoped he get the hint that I was busy and leave.
I should've known better. "So this blonde chick, her name's Tammy or Cammie or something like that. Anyway I was thinking after the event I might take her out on my boat." He snapped his fingers like he'd just recalled something. "Hey weren't you looking at boats too? What model did you get?"
Inwardly I rolled my eyes. I had never once mentioned getting a boat. It was just another one of Josh's attempt at dick-measuring. I was surprised he didn't just unzip and just lay it out on the table. Cut to the chase.
Then I finally put two and two together. "Wait," I said. "That donor event, is that this weekend?"
Josh was just about to answer, when I heard another set of footsteps and immediately recognized that shuffling gait as belonging to Hal, the supervisor of my department.
"Hey there Mr. Tarrington! Looking good!" Josh called out, smarmy as always. He shot me a quick glance before raising his voice, "I was just reminding Everett over here about the donor event this weekend."
Hal appeared at my door, looking immediately anxious. "You're going to be there, right?" he asked. "And bring a date too. Whoever you're seeing right now."
I tried not to roll my eyes. Hal was a pretty traditional guy, always asking after my dating and home life as if it was any of his goddamn business. The fact that I didn't have a girlfriend seemed to confuse the hell out of him.
"I'm bringing this blonde I just met," Josh said, literally elbowing Hal in the side.
The two of them exchanged piggish noises about the virtues of blondes in the sack, and I started to check out.
Fucking expectations. There was no escaping them. You bring a chick to a function so everyone can see that you're getting your dick sucked.
If it made me lame not to buy into that bullshit, well then I was happy to own it.
But then again, standing out can be could be a problem too. People start asking questions. You gotta do what others expect sometimes, so they have no reason to question your behavior. My mother had taught me that. It's called being normal, and polite. You have to do things, even when they aren't the things you want to do, just because they're the right thing to do.
Like a stupid function just to appease your boss.
After reassuring Hal that I would be there, while internally wracking my brain to think about who the hell I would bring, I started packing up my bag to head home. Josh mercifully drifted over to the break room when he saw Molly from HR, and I was left blissfully alone.
That is, until the alarm went off on my phone. I took a peek at the screen, nodded, and then flipped open my contacts and scrolled to my mother's number.
"Hey there sweetie!" my mother trilled into the phone.
"How are you Mom?" I said, tapping my pen against my desk.
"I'm good hon, I'm good. Thank you for calling," she said, sounding genuinely happy. Mentally, I ticked that off of today's to-do list. Making Mom happy, checkmark.
"Will you be needing my help this weekend with the house?" I asked.
My parents had moved into a new place up high on the western ridge over a year ago, and there was an endless list of home repair projects that they still needed help accomplishing. My father liked to imagine that he could do all the things himself, so it was better for both our prides if I just showed up pretending to visit my mom, and then just happened to help my dad with whatever he was working on. We'd reached this mutual understanding years ago, and it worked fine to use Mom as an intermediary.
My mother's voice dropped. "Your father is attempting to re-caulk the bathtub, and honey, I'm worried about his knees..."
"I'll be there." I grinned. "Just give me a cover story."
My mother raised her voice so my slightly hard of hearing father was sure to accidentally overhear. "I'm worried about you not eating enough, Everett. Why don't you come over for lunch?" she practically shouted into the phone.
I smiled again. "That was a good one," I complimented her.
"Thanks," she said, lowering her voice. "You're a good boy."
I pressed my lips together. There was always that little flare of guilt in the pit of my stomach whenever she said that. "Thanks Mom. You're a good mom," I said, parroting my standard response.
After I hung up, I set my phone back down and grabbed my work bag from the floor, only to have the alarm go off again. I took a look at the screen and then flipped over to the contacts with sharp exhale.
"Hey Rett," my sister blustered, sounding like a one-woman tornado.
"Hey Harper," I said. "How's Ellie?" My niece was about to turn one this fall.
"Well she's... Wait a minute where is she? She was right here!" I heard a scrambling noise in the receiver, then my sister's voice returned. "Rett, I have to let you go, she's currently got a mouthful of carpet lint."
I smiled. "Okay, you go deal with that."
"Thanks for calling," Harper said and then hung up without saying goodbye.
I exhaled and set my phone back down. There, I'd done everything I was supposed to do today. I'd worked, I'd checked in with my family, I'd made promises to my boss.
Now I could do what I wanted to do.
Which was what, exactly?
A flash of bright blonde hair danced across the forefront of my brain.
And suddenly what I wanted to do was very clear. I mentally tossed a coin, gambling on where she'd be today, the last day of the school year.
I was about to grab my bag and head out the door to Reese's Pub, when Hal called frantically from behind me. "McCabe!" he said, his voice gone a whole octave higher with anxiety. "Second quarter numbers! Upstairs is asking for them!"
I clenched my fist and exhaled heavily, then turned back around to do more of what I was supposed to.