Sometime Soon

ten



“Early this morning,” Joan comments. I smile at her and head to my cubicle. It’s Friday, and for a change I’m not glad about it. Tomorrow is the day I’m dreading. Tomorrow I will tell Katie that her fiancé is not exactly who she thinks he is.

I spend the morning hoping Katie will cancel. When I run into Karthik in the hallway later in the afternoon, I take the opportunity to ask him how the meeting with Tom went. I have heard from Rob that it was supposed to have occurred yesterday.

“It got cancelled,” he tells me. “All future product planning is on hold.”

“What?” I ask. This is news to me.

He nods in confirmation. “Everything already scheduled for this quarter and next is still on track, but beyond that.” He shrugs.

“So, this means that you get to keep working on only the features you indicated and not that crazy list Rob had.”

“Yeah, I guess it does.”

His lack of triumph worries me. “What do you think of the buyout?” I ask, stopping him before he can continue down the hallway.

He thinks for a moment before responding, which I appreciate. I’m half expecting a non-committal canned answer. “I think the fact that they want to put long range plans on hold means that they want to change or stop those plans. That may be good or bad or neutral for us.”

“But you suspect it’s bad?”

“I think it will probably be bad for some groups here. But there’s no way to know which ones at this point.”

I chew my lip, agreeing with his logic.

“Don’t worry Andrea,” he reassures me. “No need worrying when we don’t know if there’s anything to worry about. Besides, you’re very good at your job. You’ll be fine whether you stay here or decide to bestow your talents upon another company.”

“Thanks,” I say, worried now anyway. “You, too.”

I go searching for Rob. I have been avoiding him because I heard there had been quite a cat fight on the latest episode of The Bachelor, and the last thing I want to discuss with Rob is cat fights. But I have been hiding in vain, it seems. His darkened office and closed door indicate that he isn’t in today. I will have to table my blossoming anxiety until Monday.

In the meantime, I go back to my desk, locate the wrinkled paper in my bag with Ryan’s number on it, and return his call.

“Hey Andrea,” he answers, sounding a bit distracted.

“Is this a bad time?”

“No, just hold on a second, okay?”

“Okay.”

I wait, adjusting the volume up on my streaming music. “We Come Running” by Youngblood Hawk is playing.

“Sorry about that,” Ryan says into my ear, startling me. “You still there?”

“I’m here.”

“We’re in the middle of another mini-crisis.”

“I’m sorry. It’s no problem to call back at a better time,” I offer. I can hear voices in the background. It sounds like people arguing.

He laughs. “Actually, this is a good time. We just landed a second customer.”

“Hey! That’s great.”

“Yeah, but now we’re under the gun to deliver what they want. We really need to hire more people.”

“Maybe this will help you get your funding.”

“I hope so.”

Suddenly, there is static on the line and a muffled scraping noise. “Ryan?”

“Sorry, I’m just stepping out into the hallway where it’s quieter. Okay, that’s better. So, how are you?”

“I’m fine,” I mutter, restraining a sigh. It’s a loaded question at the moment.

“You sure?” he asks, picking up on my less than enthusiastic response.

For some reason, I want to tell him about my job and about Katie, but of course I don’t. I hardly know him. “I really am fine. I’ve just got a lot going on. But I’m calling to let you know that I got your message and your plan sounds great. Only, I’m wondering if we could do it on Sunday instead. I’m afraid I can’t make it on Saturday.”

“Oh,” he says. Then there’s silence.

“Or maybe we could do something next week if Sunday isn’t good?” I add quickly.

“No. Sunday works,” he responds after a brief hesitation.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure. Looks like I’ll need to work at least part of the weekend anyway. So, I might as well get it out of the way tomorrow and be able to have Sunday off.”

I give Ryan directions to my townhouse and we arrange a time for him to pick me up on Sunday morning. The plan is to drive down to Duxbury, a town on the south shore known for its beautiful beaches. I reason that if Ryan is picking me up, he can’t just leave me in Duxbury to find my own way home if he isn’t really interested. Right? I smile to myself. I certainly hope not. I go online and check the weather for Sunday. There’s a graphic of a bright yellow sun with ninety degrees stamped over it. Perfect beach weather.

Next, I compose an email to the job recruiter who found me my position at BTS Systems. I continue to receive holiday cards from her, so I know she’s still in business. In my email, I explain the situation and attach my updated resumé.

With that done, I return to working on my white papers. Now that I know there is no additional work coming in due to the cancellation of all future projects, I no longer feel pressed to get the work done immediately, and my freed up mind easily wanders. How will I break the news to Katie? When you have to get a tooth pulled, you want it yanked out quickly. Playing with it first, or trying to loosen it, is just torture. I’ve never delivered bad news like this to anyone. I really have no idea how to do it.

I sleep badly that night, getting tangled in my sheets and listening as the air conditioning kicks on and off. I finally give up around five in the morning, rising just after the sun, deciding to get up and make coffee--lots of coffee. I kill time by watching the morning news programs and tidying up unnecessarily. I’m meeting Katie at Macy’s at eleven. The plan is to shop first and then go for lunch.

I arrive early and jittery from caffeine-enhanced nerves. Macy’s is in the mall, which is crowded with shoppers on this stifling summer morning. If you aren’t going to the beach, the mall is as good a place as any to keep cool. It’s a bustling center of commerce. Having been renovated about five years ago, it now contains three shopping levels, with an interior brightened by sunlight streaming in through skylights that line the ceiling. I sit down on a bench by the entrance of Macy’s to wait.

I spot Katie then, walking briskly in my direction. Her blonde hair, thin frame, and long legs cause many a head to turn and watch as she moves toward me.

Katie’s pensive expression clears when she spots me. She tosses a quick wave in my direction and hurries her step. “Hey Andy,” she says a bit breathlessly. “Can you believe how hot it is today?”

“Good day for shopping inside,” I answer, smiling and standing.

As we enter the store and head for the swimsuit department, I debrief her on all my news. I am happily distracted with my own tales of woe, wondering when the right moment to discuss hers will come. Her reactions come intermittently as we poke through racks of suits.

“What are we looking for exactly?” I finally ask.

“I need a swimsuit that has a little more coverage than what I usually wear. Nothing too expensive though.”

“Easier said than done,” I comment, peering around.

“I know, seriously,” she agrees, holding up a string bikini that hardly uses enough material to cost over a hundred dollars.

“Why do you need a new swimsuit with more coverage?” I ask.

“When I’m around Mike’s kids, I don’t want everything on display, you know?”

I shrug at her. Kids aren’t really my area of expertise.

“I’m going to try this one,” she says, holding up a solid black tankini suit.

A few minutes later I hear Katie call my name from the dressing room. I enter the narrow space lined with tiny rooms and lit by buzzing fluorescents. Katie’s head pokes out from behind one of the dressing room doors. She holds the swimsuit out to me. “Can you see if they have this one in the next size up?”

“Is this one your usual size?”

She nods her as her brow furrows.

I come back with the larger size, hand it to her, and decide to lean against the wall and wait in case she needs me again.

“This one is much better,” she declares from the other side of the door. I wait while she changes out of the swimsuit and purchases it.

“All set,” she says, walking toward me with her red shopping bag. “Do you need anything, or should we go to lunch?”

“I vote for lunch.”

“Where would you like to go?” she asks, glancing back at me over her shoulder. “And don’t say the food court.”

We settle on a bar and grill restaurant just down the road from the mall. The dining room is barely half full. Dark wood paneling on the walls and brown hardwood floors give the place a cave-like feel. We decide on salads for lunch. It’s too warm out for hot food.

I decide to start by trying to feel her out a bit. She’s in a strange, distant kind of mood. “Did you enact the plan to let Mike pick the wedding date?” I finally ask.

She nods, taking a sip of her ice water.

“Really?” I reply, surprised she didn’t bring it up right away. “What happened?”

“Nothing.” She shrugs one shoulder. “He thanked me for understanding and told me he would get back to me on it.”

“And?”

“And he hasn’t yet.”

“Did you give him a deadline?”

She shakes her head.

“Wasn’t that part of the plan? The most crucial part?”

“I don’t want to give him a deadline.” Katie takes a deep breath and peers around the room before her eyes come to rest on mine. “I think I’ve been too pushy about setting a date. His first marriage didn’t go so well. I need to be more understanding if he’s having trouble with the idea of getting married again.”

“He’s the one who asked you to marry him.”

“I know. But being engaged is one thing. Actually making it legal is another.”

“You’re divorced, too. Are you scared of getting married again?”

“Of course. I don’t want to let it stop me. But I’m scared.”

I nod, trailing my finger through the condensation on my water glass, trying to form my next sentences carefully. Our salads appear then, and I busy myself with pouring on dressing and cutting up lettuce. I’m tempted to abort the plan to tell her about Mike and Bryn. I consider and then reconsider while I cut my romaine lettuce into smaller and smaller pieces. I keep coming back to one thought. How can I call myself a good friend and keep this a secret? If I were her, I would never forgive me.

I look over at Katie as she forks a crouton into her mouth. “I need to ask you a question” I begin.

“Okay,” she says, eyeing me curiously.

“If I were dating someone and you knew something about him, something bad, something that you knew would upset me, would you tell me?”

She stares at me, her fork hovering over her plate. “Something like what?”

Despite having thought this out all through my sleepless night, I hesitate now, not sure how to describe what Mike has done. It’s breach of trust, surely, but much more, too.

“Something like what, Andy?” she asks, apprehensive now.

Making this a hypothetical is a bad idea. I take a breath and push on, deciding to yank that damn tooth right out. “I saw Bryn this week. She told me something… something about Mike.”

“Bryn told you something?” Katie asks confused.

I nod.

“What are you talking about?” Her fork drops onto her plate with a clank. “What about Mike?”

Then, to my horror, my throat suddenly feels tight, like I’m going to cry. I am seriously botching this up.

Concerned now, Katie leans toward me. “Andy?”

I blink hard and just say it. “Bryn told me that she and Mike kissed.”

Katie just stares at me, seeming to have trouble comprehending what I’ve just said. Then she leans back, as though she’s trying to distance herself from it. “They kissed?”

“Yes. Once.”

“Mike and Bryn kissed?”

I nod.

“What do you mean they kissed? What kind of a kiss?” she asks.

“A real kiss, Katie. I’m not talking about a friendly peck.”

“When did she say this happened?” she asks after a moment.

“It was after we got back from the Bahamas. Bryn’s car died at the grocery store, and Mike came to help her.”

“I remember that. Mike told me about that day. He told me he got Bryn’s car started for her.”

“I guess he left the kiss part out.”

Katie sits up straighter in her chair. “What exactly is Bryn claiming happened?”

I don’t like the way Katie is looking at me. Like maybe I’m making this up. “She said that once Mike got her car started, she gave him a hug to thank him. But he turned it into a kiss, and she said that she kissed him back. But then she pulled away and drove off, feeling badly, apparently.”

Katie shakes her head. “I’m sure she misread it. It was probably just a friendly kiss.”

“I don’t think so. Afterward, Mike called her and asked if he could see her.”

Katie opens her mouth to say something, but then closes it again.

“Bryn said she refused to see him, but apparently he calls her on the phone pretty regularly now.”

Katie’s eyes widen. “They talk on the phone?”

I nod. I’m no longer feeling choked up as my outrage returns. “During the day, when they’re both at work,” I explain. “Bryn said that he always calls her and not the other way around.”

“Why? What do they talk about?”

“They’ve discussed the fact that they have a physical attraction to each other, but they don’t want to hurt you. He also told her that he has cold feet about the wedding.”

“He told her that?” Katie asks as her eyes begin to mist over.

I nod, watching her as she tries not to lose it. “I’m so sorry. I wasn’t sure whether or not to tell you any of this.”

“Have they slept together?”

“No,” I answer quickly. “Bryn said it was just one kiss and phone conversations. That’s it.”

Katie takes a deep breath. “Is it possible Bryn’s lying?”

I hesitate before answering. Bryn is many things, but I’ve never known her to lie. “I don’t think so,” I answer softly as I reach into my bag for a tissue and hand it to Katie.

She automatically takes it, but just holds it absently in her hand. “I don’t understand,” she whispers, slowly shaking her head.

I don’t know what to say. Saying I was sorry again seemed completely inadequate.

“They just kissed? Once?” she asks me.

I nod.

“He never told me that. He never mentions Bryn at all.” She finally realizes she has a tissue in her hand and reaches up to dab at her eyes. “I can’t believe he’s been calling her and telling her things he hasn’t told me. Why would he do that? Does he think he can’t talk to me?”

“If he really is terrified of getting married, he might be afraid to tell you.”

Katie takes a shaky breath, considering this. “And what about Bryn? I thought we were friends.”

“I don’t really have an explanation for Bryn other than that she’s lonely. He’s paying attention to her, and even though she knows it’s wrong, she just can’t help herself.” I want to add that if it weren’t for Bryn having something of a conscience it might have gotten a lot further by now.

“What if he wants to leave me?” she asks, looking like a lost child.

My heart sinks at her question. “What if you want to leave him?” I reply, feeling frustrated with her reaction.

That seems to startle her, as though it hadn’t occurred to her. Now I can’t help comparing Katie and Bryn to myself. Here they are, both anguishing over a man, hanging on to him despite his obvious shortcomings which are huge and glaring, and I’m ready to throw someone away because he didn’t walk me to my car. The problem is, I still think I’m right about that. I want to shake Katie. I want to tell her she is so much better than Mike. She’s a smart, successful woman, and she doesn’t have to put up with this schmuck. I find myself becoming angry with her for not valuing herself more highly. But I swallow the need to voice those opinions along with a sip of ice water from my glass on the table.

“I think I’d like to get the check now,” Katie says.

I offer to pay for lunch. It’s the least I can do. Katie protests meekly, before letting me. Then we walk together through the heavy summer heat to our cars. “Is he going to be there when you get home?” I ask.

She shakes her head, her expression distant and dazed. “No, he took his kids to a water park today. He won’t be back until dinner.”

I touch her arm to get her attention. “This isn’t your fault. If Mike is scared to get married, he should have talked to you about it. Going behind your back with one of your friends is not the way to deal with cold feet. I’m sorry. I really am. For the record, if you knew something like this about a man I intended to marry and you didn’t tell me, I’d be mad as hell at you.” I don’t know why I say all this to her. I’m letting her reaction to the news get to me.

Katie eyes me silently, her expression grim and watery.

“Come home with me,” I suggest.

She shakes her head. “Oh, no. Thanks.”

“Are you sure? We can talk more or not talk. Whatever you want.”

She jingles her keys in her hand. “I really need to go home and be by myself for a while.”

“Okay.” I don’t want to let her leave. Whether it’s welcome or not, I reach out and hug her. Her response is weak, but she returns the gesture. Then I have no choice but to watch as she mechanically gets in her car and drives away.



“I just told her.”

“How did she take it?” Mom asks.

I’m sitting in my car holding my cell phone to my ear. The car is sweltering after sitting in the midday sun. I have the air-conditioning blowing full-blast, but the interior is slow to cool, and I can feel the sweat dripping down and pooling at my lower back. “She seemed shell-shocked,” I reply. “She didn’t get angry, just sad and kind of dazed. I asked if I’d done the right thing by telling her and do you know what she said?”

“What?”

“She said, ‘What if he wants to leave me?’ She’s afraid of him leaving her?”

“You don’t think she’d leave him over this?” Mom asks.

“I don’t know. I mentioned that and she seemed shocked at the idea. How could she rather not know? Does she want to marry the same type of guy she just divorced?”

“Maybe you should have stayed out of it.”

I feel tears threatening again. “How could I? How could I keep seeing them together, knowing what he’s doing, the way he’s making a fool out of her?”

“I don’t know, honey.”

“I bet she says nothing to him. I bet she pretends we never had this conversation and goes on like nothing happened.”

“If she does, it’s none of your business. You did what you had to. You told her. What she does now is her own decision.”

I sink into the car seat. “Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything. I wish Bryn had never told me.”

“She really isn’t a friend to either of you. She shouldn’t have put you in that position.”

“I should have spent more time considering not telling Katie. I always follow my moral compass with this arrogant self-assurance.”

Mom laughs. “You do have this habit of always thinking you’re right.”

“And you don’t?” I counter.

“Well, you might have gotten that from me,” she answers. I can hear the smile in her voice. “Andrea, there is no right or wrong here. You were trying to be a good friend. Don’t beat yourself up about it.”

“What now? Should I call her later to see if she’s okay?”

“That would be a nice thing to do.”

The car is beginning to cool off now. Having Mom tell me that I haven’t done anything wrong feels like the weight of the world lifting off my shoulders. I generally trust her judgment. When she disapproves of something I’ve done, I always feel that much worse about it.