Sometime Soon

twenty-two



Katie comes over on Sunday. Morning sickness has taken hold--only it lasts all day, she tells me. We’re camped out on the living room floor with the Sunday paper spread around us, looking at ads from local department stores, browsing for children’s furniture and supplies, trying to see what types of styles there are for cribs and changing tables. It’s too early to start purchasing anything, and Katie is being superstitious about stocking up on major baby items so soon, but it’s fun to look.

While we peruse the paper, I describe David and my date with him to Katie. As I knew she would, she urges me not to hold LARP against him. Although she does agree that it sounds pretty ridiculous. But Katie, similar to my family, is not to be trusted when it comes to this sort of thing. My family, especially, cannot be counted on to judge my dates impartially. Their agenda to have me married off, or at least in a relationship, taints all their opinions. I suspect that if someone I was dating turned out to be a murderer, they would say “well, there’s no death penalty in Massachusetts; you could make it work.”

As for Katie’s situation, since I’d spoken to her last, she somehow decided that Mike will eventually come back to her. This opinion is not formed by anything Mike has said, but by Katie herself rationalizing and over-thinking the situation.

“He’s just scared. I have to give him time,” she tells me, apparently more than willing to forgive all his transgressions if he appears on her doorstep.

I nod and keep my thoughts to myself.

When my cell phone rings later that afternoon, I check the caller ID and see that it’s David. Since I’m still undecided on him, I let it go to voicemail. Laura calls, too, while Katie is over. I am pretty sure she wants to do a postmortem on my date so I let that call go to voicemail, as well. I’ll deal with it all later.

That night I’m working up the nerve to call David back, when I decide to procrastinate by checking my email. There it is, finally. A message from Karthik sent late Friday night is sitting unopened in my Inbox. I take a breath and open it.

A ripple of excitement runs through me when I realize the gist of it. He does not mention BTS or Napa once. Rather, he writes that a marketing position is opening in his group at Cronus, and he thinks that I should apply for it. As far as he’s concerned, if I’m interested, he’ll highly recommend me and do his best to make sure the position is mine. It would be working in the Cronus Maps group and Cronus, according Karthik’s email, is far more generous and more fun to work for than BTS. I don’t have to think hard at all to know I’m interested.

I immediately reply, attaching my updated resumé to the email. The possibilities are exciting, although I need to keep things in perspective. Karthik has just gotten there himself. How much influence can he have?

When my cell phone rings again later, I grab it without checking the caller ID, figuring it’s Laura again. But it’s David.

“Hi there. Did you get my message?” he asks.

“I did. I was just about to call you back, actually.”

“Oh, good timing then, huh?”

“It’s like you read my mind,” I reply cheerily. My good mood is coloring my words with enthusiasm.

He chuckles. “I wanted to tell you what a nice time I had and to see how the rest of your weekend went.”

“Thanks David. I had a nice time, too. And the rest of my weekend was good. You? How did the game go?”

“Really well. We had around 40 people.”

“Is that a good turnout?”

“That’s a really good turnout.”

“Great.”

“I also wanted to let you know that I don’t think the Red Sox game is going to work out on Friday.”

“Oh?”

“I have a closing in Worcester, and because of the train schedule I won’t be back in time. But we could still do something later.”

I want to ask why he can’t just drive to the closing, and my teetering indecisiveness begins to sway back in the negative direction. “That’s fine,” I answer, because it’s easier than telling me him otherwise. I wonder if he’ll offer to pick me up that night. I suppose I could be more sympathetic to his transportation issue and offer to be the designated driver.

We chat some more and end the conversation with David promising to call during the week to finalize plans for Friday. I have between now and then to decide what to do, assuming he actually calls.

I’ve barely hung up the phone when Laura calls. No one is waiting for me to call them back today.

“How did it go?” she asks, offering no greeting.

I sigh and rehash it all for her.

“LARP?” she chirps. “He never mentioned that to me.”

“I guess I’m special.”

“That’s weird, huh?”

“Yes. Yes, it is.”

“So, I’m guessing he’s out of the running.”

“I haven’t completely closed the door yet, but it’s not looking good.” I hear someone talking in the background. It sounds like Mom. “Where are you?” I ask.

“I’m at some crazy hippy lady’s house looking at wedding invitations with Mom,” she explains, her voice low.

“I didn’t know you guys were doing that tonight.”

“Neither did I. Mom heard about this woman that everyone is using, called her up, and found out that she’s pretty booked already. That, of course, developed into a wedding invitation emergency.”

“Oh no. Does she have anything you like?”

“That’s irrelevant. You know that by now.”

I roll my eyes, but Tiger is my only witness. “Okay, then. Does she have anything Mom likes?”

“That may actually be irrelevant, too. This lady is wearing a sundress and she obviously doesn’t own a razor or any deodorant. I’m estimating that we’ll be out of here in less than ten minutes.”

“Ewww.”

“Tell me about it. I’m trying to keep my distance while still pretending that I can actually see her invitation portfolio. Mom is sitting right next to her. She keeps throwing these pained looks at me.”

I chuckle. “I’ve got some news.” Then I proceed to tell her about Karthik and the Cronus opportunity.

She sounds very excited for me. “Can I tell Mom?”

“Yes, you can.”

Half an hour later the telephone rings again. Predictably, it’s Mom. After the initial niceties, she gets to the point. “But you just got promoted. Are you sure you want to leave now?”

“I didn’t really get promoted. Besides, so far this faux promotion is resembling my last management experience a little too closely.”

“But you’ve only been there for three years. You were at your last job an even shorter time. Are you going to keep jumping from company to company?”

“Three years is actually a fairly long time with companies going out of business and getting gobbled up by other companies all the time.” I understand my mother’s perspective. My father was at his company for over thirty years, which is really unheard of.

“Well, I’m sure you know what you’re doing,” she says, using a tone that tells me she doesn’t think I know what I’m doing at all. It’s amazing how often her tone says all the important stuff. The words themselves are inconsequential and often misleading on their own.

“It’s worth seeing what this opportunity is about,” I explain to her reasonably.

“Oh yes. Of course, Andrea.”

I hang up, wondering what exactly she meant by that.

After I reply to Karthik, things move quickly. Another email from him arrives on Monday. He has already arranged for me to interview with two of his colleagues this coming Wednesday. The interviews are planned around lunchtime. I could easily walk the block to the Cronus offices and be back at my desk without arranging for time off or making some excuse about a doctor’s appointment.

When Wednesday arrives, I go out to my car at lunch time and grab the black pants and matching blazer I brought with me for the interview. Hoping no one from the office spots me, I change in the bathroom located in the lobby of the building. Then I grab my bag, into which I’ve stuffed more copies of my resumé and some writing samples, and head over to Cronus.

My initial welcome there feels less like an interview and more like a social occasion. Both Karthik and Steve, who I know a little from BTS, come down to reception and greet me in the sleek glass and metal lobby. Rather than jumping right into the interview, they take me to a nearby café and buy me lunch. It feels the way it did when I first started at BTS, and product groups would go out to lunch together or out for drinks after work.

After we eat, they walk me back to the office and give me a tour, introducing me to lots of people whose names I will never remember. The tour ends at a large conference room with a wall of windows that overlook the Charles River and the red brick brownstones of the Back Bay. Now the real interview begins. Karthik and Steve introduce me to the VP of marketing and then leave me with him in the sunny conference room.

He appears to be in his early forties, with a slim build and a friendly expression. He seems laid back and even somewhat sedate as he sits down across from me in jeans and sneakers, with my resumé flat on the table in front of him. Then he begins with the typical interview questions, inquiring about the positions listed on my resumé. This goes on for some time. I try to covertly peek at my watch by the time I begin the second interview with the director of marketing. I had no idea that I’d be spending the entire afternoon here. Surely, I’m starting to be missed back at the office.

Both the VP and director of marketing ask me what my aspirations are and why I want to work at Cronus. I’m prepared for these questions, and I provide them with the answers I’ve practiced and used in many interviews before this. I tell them that I want to continue to be challenged and to work to meet those challenges in a dynamic environment where I can keep learning while I make a real contribution… blah, blah, blah. I could spout this stuff in my sleep.

By the time I leave Cronus, I’m exhausted. My throat is sore from talking and my jaw aches from smiling. I was there for just over four hours. Once again, I wonder how much pull Karthik really has. The position itself is very similar to what I’m doing at BTS, but the team at Cronus is much larger, much younger, and far more invested in their endeavors. I liked what I saw and what I heard there. I only hope that I have impressed them. I know that I appeared enthusiastic and that I provided decent answers to their questions, but I am far from the dynamic, eccentric types I saw walking the halls there.

I’d purposely said nothing negative about BTS and why I wanted to leave. It never looks good to bad-mouth your current employer. I can’t help but envy the people I met today, and the way they seemed to enjoy the work they’re doing. I used to feel that way, too. I didn’t really think I was unhappy at BTS until I went to Cronus today.

I needn’t have worried about the office missing me. Rob is out of town again. Nate has already left for home when I get back, and other than a dozen or so emails that require responses, it appears that no one has even noticed I was gone. Ken, Anand, and Christopher have each sent more emails today about various issues they’re having. I want to send one reply back to all of them that reads “Suck it up!” But, of course, I don’t. I do realize that I haven’t heard a peep from Tracy, the other Napa addition to the team. This unsettles me, but not enough to stay late and try to check up on her. That can wait until tomorrow, and I’m completed exhausted. My couch and my television are calling me.