Sometime Soon

seven



There is no commentary on my arrival at work that morning. Joan’s chair is empty. It feels odd starting the day this way. When I get to my cubicle, I see that it’s just as I left it on Friday. Drafts of the white papers I’ve written are printed and neatly stacked.

My marketing co-worker and row cube mate, Nate, arrives just I settle back down with my first cup of coffee of the day. Nate is supposed to be on his second week of paternity leave.

“What are you doing here?” I ask, happy to see him. Without Nate here this past week, I’ve had no one to roll eyes with over Rob.

“You haven’t checked your email yet, have you?” Nate is a freckled red head whose cheeks, much to his own dismay, flush when he is under the slightest emotional strain.

I now notice their pink tinge. “Uh-oh. What’s up?”

“Tom sent out a message over the weekend. There’s an all-hands meeting this morning, no exceptions, no excuses.”

“What about?” I ask, searching my Inbox.

Nate shrugs. “No one knows.”

I briefly wonder if it concerns the shenanigans Rob pulled on Karthik. But that’s typical Rob, hardly worthy of an impromptu all-hands meeting.

I sip my hot coffee as Nate and I speculate. Then a thought occurs to me. “Oh no,” I say out loud.

“What?”

“At the last company I worked for, when they called a surprise meeting like this, it was to announce a buyout.”

“You think we’re getting bought?”

“Could be.”

“Marketing and finance departments are the first to get axed in a buyout,” he says, leaning against his flimsy cubicle wall. This seems ill-advised since Nate is not a small guy.

I think about Nate’s new family addition and quickly backtrack. “But who knows. It could be anything.”

I glance at the email and see that the meeting is set for 10 AM in the large conference room.

The large conference room is not quite large enough to hold all of us. The seats around the wooden oval-shaped table are occupied first, and the rest of us stand nearby, leaning against the walls and spilling out into the hallway. Nate and I squeeze into the packed room and find some free wall space along the side. Tom Norton, Vice President of our business unit, sits at the head of the table, with Joan to his right. Whatever the topic, it’s important enough to pull Joan off the front desk all morning.

Once everyone is settled in, Tom stands and glances around the room. The quiet buzz of conversation fades as we all focus on him. Tom looks like a vice-president. He has an easy confidence about him, with his tailored navy suit and his side-parted steel-gray hair. Other than a hello in the hallway, when he’s sure to include my name to show me that he actually knows it, I have never had a conversation with Tom. All my dealings start and end with Rob, who has managed to get a seat at the table this morning. He’s leaning back in his chair, appearing unconcerned. Karthik and his team of engineers are grouped together in the back.

“You’re probably all wondering why I’ve called you here,” Tom begins. He eyes travel around the room, taking us all in. “Well, I won’t keep you in suspense.” His serious face softens. “Friday afternoon we entered into an agreement to be acquired by Napa Networks.”

A quiet shock settles over the room. I can’t believe I guessed right. Nate throws me a strained glance as his face begins to flush red. The quiet soon dissipates as whispers and low mumblings take hold. I look over at Rob, trying to see if he is surprised by the announcement, but his expression remains unchanged.

Tom puts his hands in his pockets, and he appears to be gauging our reactions. “This is a smart move for us. The wireless market is flooded with products and services, and we’re having a tough time getting to market with the latest and most timely technologies. With the resources of Napa Networks behind us, we can push harder and sell into more channels…”

I start to tune out at this point. He’s regurgitating the same business platitudes I’ve heard every time a company I work for makes a tremendous shift in plans that requires selling it to its employees. Scanning the room, I see the shell-shocked faces of the younger, less experienced workers mingled with the sardonic, yet accepting faces of the more experienced ones. I count myself among the latter group. This buy-out is right on time within the general pattern of my work history. At about three years in, either a buy-out occurs, or the company starts having financial difficulties, or the project I’m on is discontinued. A good three to five-year run is the most one could expect these days in the high-tech industry. This is something my family, especially my father, who has been with the same company for nearly thirty years, cannot understand.

“Nothing will change in the short term,” Tom is saying. “But as we begin to integrate our departments, some reorganizing might be necessary. Although I want to assure you, at this time there are no plans to cut any positions. Every single one of you is important to our business and to the future of this company.”

“Napa Networks is in California. Are they going to keep this office open?” This question comes from one of Karthik’s engineers in the back.

Tom nods his affirmative answer. “Although they may move us out of Cambridge,” he adds. This inspires some unhappy moans.

“If they pay for my move, I’ll go to California,” someone jokes. Uneasy laughter fills the conference room.

“I’ll be sure to let them know,” Tom responds, seeming relieved by a lightening of the atmosphere.

We are all aware of Napa Networks. They are the giants in our industry. They are also notoriously cheap, paying much lower salaries than the industry standard. According to their reputation, in an extreme cost-saving measure, they recently circulated a memo to their employees listing the ways in which each individual employee could help the company save money. The list included limiting the number of toilet paper sheets used during bathroom visits, washing and reusing the provided plastic utensils, and restricting the provided free soda to one can per day. I heard that when Napa cancelled the company bonus last year due to having missed their quarterly results by one penny per share, employees rebelled by using massive amounts of toilet paper and consuming their own weight in soda.

Tom concludes the meeting by thanking everyone for his or her time and hard work. I’m betting Tom will collect a large payout when the buyout goes through, and we will never see him again. He couldn’t care less whether the office is moved to Timbuktu or whether we all keep our jobs.

We shuffle out of the conference room, returning to our cubicles in order to huddle and gossip. Nate and I have barely sat down when Rob approaches. “How’s the baby?” he asks Nate.

“She’s good,” Nate says distractedly. “Did you know about this?”

“I got the word on Friday,” Rob says.

“What do you think?” I ask.

Rob shrugs. “Hard to know. Like Tom said, nothing will change in the short term. But in the long term it could mean more opportunity, or it could go another way.”

“Do they need two wireless security marketing groups?” Nate asks.

“We have the advantage there,” Rob replies. “They’re buying us for our security technology. It’s something they don’t have yet.”

“Really?” Nate asks hopefully.

“Yup. Although, it’s not rocket science. It’s just marketing,” Rob adds, the right side of his mouth hitching up.

My resumé is updated, as always, and I’ve kept in contact with the recruiter who got me this job. But the economy is terrible, and I now have a mortgage payment to consider. Despite the rhetoric, there’s no guarantee that anyone’s job is safe. Even if mine were, I don’t like the idea of working for Napa. Perhaps it would be smart to put out some feelers. The idea of leaving my fate in the hands of a billion dollar corporation to which I matter not at all, is unsettling at best.



The office buzzes like a beehive. It’s my turn to need a frappuccino and a chat. I email Bryn, and we meet at Starbucks ten minutes later. I’m relieved to be out of the office. The entire day, and perhaps the next few months, will be fueled by nerves and gossip.

The late morning is bright with an occasional chilly breeze that hints at the impending fall. Thinking of the summer ending only adds to the glum mood into which I’m slipping. Bryn and I take our frozen drinks to the outdoor patio table.

“I’m not surprised really, but I don’t know if I’m up to job hunting,” I say dismally, after having explained the situation to Bryn.

“You’ll be fine. And you might not even need to find another job. Maybe you should wait and see what happens. Napa is doing pretty well these days.”

“Maybe.” At first, I was sure I wanted to get a head start on job hunting. Sitting around hoping it would all work out is not really my style. I prefer controlling my own destiny. But I don’t want to be hasty, either. Perhaps the rumors about Napa aren’t true. Perhaps I will love working for them. Maybe rationing toilet paper is a good idea that I will want to adopt at home, too.

“You could call a few recruiters and see how the job market is,” she suggests.

“I should at least do that. I have a mortgage now and a cat who expects to continue living in the high style to which he has become accustomed.”

“Everything will work out,” she assures me. “So, now tell me some good news.”

“Good news?

Bryn nods at me.

“Um, I haven’t gotten into a car accident in the last three days.”

“No,” she says, nudging my leg under the table with her sneakered foot. “I’m talking about the Café Blue guy you were going to call. You did call, right?”

“Yes, I called.” Then I entertain Bryn with stories of my sudden dating bounty.

“Two guys,” she exclaims, eyes wide, bobbed hair bouncing.

“That’s right. Of course, I hardly know either of them, and it’s unlikely that either will become a relationship, but I’m feeling pretty good about myself at the moment.”

Bryn gives me a grin that is both humoring and chastising. “Miss Optimistic,” she deadpans. We’re both sucking our frozen coffee drinks when Bryn’s expression becomes serious. “Have you talked to Katie lately?” she asks.

I give her an exasperated look as the cold mouthful goes right to my head. “Yes, I have, and she could really use her friends right now. You need to get over this and call her.”

“What do you mean? Why does she need her friends?”

I’ve said too much, I realize. I don’t want to betray Katie’s confidence.

“Is everything okay with her and Mike?” she asks, more curious now that I’ve clammed up.

I sigh and decide to tell her only what she already knows. “They still can’t agree on a wedding date. But I’m sure it will work out.”

“They’re arguing about the wedding date?” she asks cautiously.

“I didn’t say they were arguing. Just having some trouble picking a date.”

Bryn puts her frappuccino aside and leans toward me across the table. “Are Katie and Mike having problems?”

“No…. I don’t know.” Her curiosity is making me uncomfortable. I don’t like being put in the middle this way.

She stares at me.

I lean back in my chair. “If you want to know what’s going on with Katie, you should call her yourself.”

“I don’t have to call Katie. I already know what’s going on.”

This gets my attention. Did I hear her right? I look up from the straw I had started to twist around my finger. “What do you mean?”

Bryn becomes very interested in the top of the table.

What?” I ask again. “Bryn, what’s going on?”

She glances up at me, and her eyes begin to tear. Embarrassed, she turns her face away and looks out toward the busy street. “Mike has been calling me,” she tells the passing traffic. Then she faces me, wiping at a tear that has made a path down her cheek.

“Mike has been calling you? On the telephone?” I ask dumbly.

She nods.

“Why is he calling you?” I thought Bryn hardly knew Mike, the same as me.

Bryn starts to speak again and then stops.

I take in her tears and her pinched expression. “Are you and he….?” I begin, but I can’t finish it.

“No,” she answers quickly. Then she softly adds, “Not really. He kissed me once. Right after we got back from the Bahamas.”

“He kissed you?”

She nods again. “In the parking lot at the grocery store.” She pauses, taking a deep breath. “My car wouldn’t start. I was at the store that’s just down the road from Katie and Mike’s place. I had milk and cheese and some ice cream, and I didn’t want them to spoil while I waited for a tow truck. So, I called to see if Katie could come get my groceries and store them in her refrigerator. Only she wasn’t home. Mike was there and he offered to help.

“He came down with some jumper cables, and he tried to get the car started for me. The whole time, he was telling me these funny stories about his kids who he’d just seen. When he finally got the car started, I was so thankful, I jumped up and hugged him. But he didn’t let go of me, and he kissed me.”

I can feel my eyes widening at her.

“I kissed him back,” she says, her eyes meeting mine almost defiantly.

I just blink at her.

“I felt terrible,” she continues, rushing her words now. “I pulled away from him and drove off, leaving him standing there in the parking lot.” She takes a shaky breath, seeming to sink into the chair as she exhales.

“You kissed Mike?” I ask again, sure that I’m misunderstanding this.

“Yes. When I leaned back from the hug, he grabbed my face and he kissed me. We kissed, Andy.”

As I’m absorbing this, she continues.

“Then he started calling me. I missed the first call. He left a message on my machine saying he needed to talk to me. I figured he wanted to apologize or ask me to forget the whole thing. So I called him back at work. But he didn’t want to forget it. He wanted to see me again.”

I feel a knot forming in my stomach.

“I refused to see him though,” she says defensively, her eyes wandering back to the street.

“You’re talking to him on the phone?” I ask, finally finding my voice.

“Yes. He still calls me. During the day, mostly. When we’re both at work, to talk. But I don’t ever call him.” She makes sure to tell me this, obviously thinking it somehow means she’s less guilty.

“Does he want a relationship with you?” I ask.

“I don’t know. There’s an attraction there, but neither of us want to hurt Katie.”

“Oh my god, Bryn.”

“I know,” she nods miserably.

“This is why you’ve been acting strange? Why you haven’t spoken to Katie?”

Bryn nods again. “I didn’t know what to do, and I couldn’t face her.”

“But you can chat with Mike on the phone whenever he likes? Does he talk to you about his relationship with Katie?”

She’s reminding me of a bobble head doll as she continues nodding.

I look away from Bryn, breaking the terrible spell she’s cast, and the world comes back into focus. I stare blindly at my surroundings. Katie is going to be devastated. I reluctantly return to the conversation. “Why did you tell me this?”

“I had to tell someone. I feel so awful about everything.”

“Not awful enough to stop talking to Mike.” I glare at Bryn. Her eyes are red and her face is tearstained. “You like him.”

She seems surprised by my statement. I think she’s not going to comment when she finally says, “I don’t know.”

“Is he going to call off the wedding?” I ask, not sure I want to know the answer.

“I know he’s been having second thoughts. But I don’t know if he’s serious.”

I feel queasy as I push away my half empty frappuccino and study Bryn, her full face pale against her faded yellow Life is Good T-shirt. “What have you been thinking?” I ask, genuinely wanting to know. In my opinion, Mike isn’t worth even five minutes of thought, and yet he has two women fretting and pining over him. I suddenly feel restless. Before she can answer my question, I stand abruptly.

Bryn jumps to her feet. “Are you going to tell Katie?”

The thought makes my chest feel tight. “Maybe you ought to tell her.”

“I can’t.” Her voice is quiet but adamant.

Then a terrible thought occurs to me. I can feel the frappuccino churning in my stomach. “If you tell Katie, you’re afraid Mike will be angry with you. But if I tell her, you might have a chance with him.”

Her response is silence. No denial.

“He’s a miserable a*shole, bad-mouthing his ex-wife all the time and now doing this to Katie. How could you want someone like that?”

“But he isn’t that way. You don’t understand.”

“What don’t I understand?”

“It’s not his fault.”

“What isn’t his fault?” I challenge. “His life?”

“He and his wife were never happy. She never really loved him. And now Katie’s pushing him to get married, and he isn’t ready for that again.”

“So rather than being straight with her, he keeps up a charade while he’s taking his consolation from you?”

“You just don’t understand,” she says softly.

I walk out of the Starbucks without looking back.



“Interesting morning,” Joan comments, back at her post again.

“You have no idea,” I mutter, and continue on to my desk. Nate is gone, probably uneasily continuing his paternity leave.

“You don’t want to miss The Bachelor tonight,” Rob says, stopping by my cube.

“Why not?” I ask, feigning interest.

“I saw the previews. The panty girl gets drunk and passes out on the bed. She’s too wasted to show up to get a rose.”

“She sounds like quite a catch.”

“They sure can pick ‘em for that show. During the auditions, they must look for the wackiest, most mentally unstable women they can find.”

Once Rob ambles away, I settle in at my desk and stare blindly at my computer monitor. Poor Katie. Telling her is the right thing to do, despite the fact that Bryn has manipulated me into it. It has to be in person. I can’t tell her something like this over the phone. We’ve all had that hypothetical thought. If your boyfriend or husband were cheating on you, would you want to know? It’s a big ‘yes’ for me. As appalled as I am with Bryn, I know I’m angry for another reason, too. I’m feeling astounded that two sensible women have allowed themselves to be hooked by this completely despicable man. Are the pickings so slim that if any man pays some attention to you, you have to latch on to him with a death grip because you don’t know if another man will ever be interested in you again? They can’t be blind to his considerable shortcomings, can they? The whole situation is just too depressing.

I call my mother, the most enthusiastic purveyor of advice I know.

“If you decide to tell her, be prepared for her to be angry with you,” Mom cautions.

“Maybe I should wait to see how this wedding date issue plays out. Katie was going to try to pin him down on a date, finally. And he hasn’t actually cheated on her yet.”

“I’d say he has,” Mom replies. I think she’s right. He has betrayed Katie.

After I hang up the phone I’m too distracted to get any work done, so I compose an email to Katie simply asking when we can get together. Her reply appears about a half hour later. She wants to go shopping for swimsuits on Saturday. This is not my favorite activity, but I agree to go. Why do I feel like I’m summoning her to her execution?