A Life More Complete

---Chapter 26---

I’m beginning to show and I know I have to come clean to Ellie. I’d taken a few days off of work after getting married and I figured when I returned I could impart her with the news that not only had I gotten married but that I’m also pregnant.

I email Ellie as soon as I arrive at the office that morning requesting a meeting with her. When my Outlook calendar pops up with a scheduled appointment for noon, nervousness takes over. Since the debacle with Trini my relationship with Ellie turned a corner. She might have been perceived as the office hard ass and all around jerk of a boss, but I know a slightly different model. I know the person who reserves her kindness for when no one is around and there was actually one day recently that she pulled me into her office for what seemed like a confession, but derailed around the time she got to the juicy part. I feel bad for her knowing that what little friendships she does maintain still seem like acquaintances. Everyone in the office noticed the shift in Ellie’s mood not to mention her sudden affection for me. Little did she know that everyone in the office, including me, is dying to get his or her hands on any gossip surrounding Ellie’s private life. It’s something she guards so closely that not even I am privy to that information. Truth be told, Ellie terrifies me and I’m always worried she’s going to randomly fire me.

I race over to Melinda’s office in hopes that she can help me formulate some type of explanation that seems valid. Considering I’ve hidden the fact that I’m pregnant and now married, I might come across as a bit insincere.

“Mel, what am I going to tell her?” Throwing myself onto the corner of her desk. “I was hoping to put it off a little longer, but I think people are starting to suspect.” She swivels her desk chair to face me. Flipping her long blonde hair over her shoulder, she laughs.

“Starting to suspect? I’ve been fielding questions for weeks. It’s kinda hard to hide a pregnancy when you weigh hundred ten pounds soaking wet. Every pound you gain shows. I keep telling people you love Mexican food and donuts.”

“Well, at least that’s true. Now seriously, what should I say?”

“Just tell her Tyler knocked you up. What’s she gonna do, fire you? One, that’s against the law and two, if she did, it would be the greatest day of your life. Collect unemployment. Doesn’t sound too bad to me.”

“Jeez, could you be more helpful?” I ask sarcastically. “I’m afraid to tell her. She’s gonna be so pissed. You know how much she hates kids. Remember when Rebecca from H.R. was pregnant? Ellie avoided her like it was disease. And when we threw her that baby shower Ellie refused to buy something off the registry because she said that asking for gifts was in poor taste.”

“Oh yeah, I forgot about that,” she says widening her eyes a bit.

“Shit, maybe I should wait to tell her.”

“Don’t be such a chicken. She’s a pain in the ass.” She waves a dismissive hand at me.

“That’s it? You don’t have better advice?”

“No,” she says grinning.

“Sometimes you’re impossible.”

“But you love me,” Melinda says confidently.

“Right now I don’t.” I leave her office and hit up the lounge for any leftover donuts from this morning.

This is one of those times that I wish Bob still worked here. Normally when Melinda was her useless self I would thunder into Bob’s office next and unload my latest mishap on him. He was always more supportive than Melinda and maybe it was our mutual desire to someday fall hopelessly in love with the right guy and get married that bound us. Bob is my go-to when life gets ridiculous and I need someone to talk me off the ledge. Bob was there when the heel broke off my shoe in the middle of a dinner party causing me to bust ass at the entrance to the restaurant in front of at least four clients. Chuckling, he cracked the heel off my other shoe and handed it back to me without missing a beat. When I chipped my tooth on beer bottle he made light of it and called me Lloyd Christmas for the rest of the week. He somehow managed to make my stupidity seem endearing all the while assuring me that he’d love me no matter what.

I flop into my desk chair and dial his number, twirling the cord around my finger as I debate the method I should use when informing Ellie.

“Bob,” I nearly scream into the phone when he answers.

“Krissy,” he replies back with just as much intensity. “What’s up, baby?”

“Oh shit! I have to tell Ellie I’m pregnant and I have no idea what to say. Well, I know what to say...”

“I figured you’d just wait it out until the Mexican and donuts excuse was played out and then drop the bomb.”

“Here I am not even twelve weeks and that excuse has reached its limit. I was hoping to go longer, but everyone in this effing office is so gossipy. Please just tell me what to say.”

“You can do this. Just tell her the truth. I know she hates kids, but she doesn’t hate you. Look how it turned out after you told Tyler? Good, right? Give Ellie that same courtesy. Whatever you do don’t bring your phone with you.”

“Why,” I ask all the while wrapping the phone cord around my finger so tightly it cuts off the blood to the tip turning it a ghastly pale color.

“Because you will check it obsessively making it look like the conversation is boring you and if you don’t check it, you’ll fumble around with it and more than likely drop it, in turn bumping your head on her desk as you bend to pick it up. Enough of a reason? Don’t get me wrong, I think you’re adorable, but Ellie will see it as weakness.”

I sigh deeply, “Creepy.” He knows me better than I even know myself.

“You may think I like Melinda better, but honestly, I love you more. Tyler is one lucky guy and baby nugget is even luckier that he or she gets you as their mom. Regardless of how it goes with Ellie, it doesn’t matter anymore. Take care of you and that baby.”

“Bob, I love you, too. This is just what I needed.” My nerves begin to settle and the nausea that had formed in the pit of my stomach begins to fade.

Noon rolls around lightning fast and my anxiety returns two fold. I mill around in my office for a few minutes repeating in my head to give Ellie the benefit of the doubt. I grab my phone off the desk as I’m leaving my office, but quickly recall Bob’s words and toss it back. I knock on her door and she calls to enter. Even without my phone, I still make an ass of myself by somehow getting the sleeve of my shirt stuck to the door handle. As I enter her office, my whole body is yanked backward with the door narrowly missing my face as my butt slams into the door jam. Classy.

“Sorry, Ellie,” I mumble as I take a seat across from her.

“I wouldn’t expect anything less,” she says with a small smile. “So, you called the meeting. What’s going on?”

Here, I find myself, once again with a fabulous monologue prepared in my head. I’m so composed and articulate. The perfect mix of seriousness and humor, but like my life, it just comes out all wrong. At least I’ve gotten it together enough that I’m not blubbering like a damn fool.

“I’m pregnant,” I say sheepishly, looking down at the industrial steel gray carpet and finally back up at Ellie. “Oh yeah, and I got married.”

I’m beginning to regret my blurt it out method. It’s not something I’m proud of, yet my skills in articulation are severely lacking.

“Okay,” she says. “Well, I’m sure you are aware of your rights by law. If you have any questions regarding your FMLA or your health insurance you can contact H.R. Michael deals with the insurance end of it, so it would be best to speak with him about adding the baby to your policy. We do not have paid leave here, but you are able to use any accrued paid time off you may have available to you. When you do return to work you’ll still be expected to maintain the same level of work ethic that you...” she fades and then takes a deep breath. Running her hands through her hair she looks at me sympathetically. “I’m sorry. I’m being insensitive. I’ve never dealt with a situation like this where I actually like the person or where I’m truly happy for them. Congratulations to you and Tyler. I wish you the best.”

Ellie leaves her chair and walks over and pulls me into an embrace. She’s stiff and stands a little too far from my body for it to be meaningful, but I understand the gesture. It’s hard for Ellie and this is her attempt at kindness.

I leave Ellie’s office with a spring in my step. Two for two not so bad. Maybe this benefit-of-the- doubt thing is something I should add to my everyday life.

I text Bob as soon as my butt hits my desk chair.

Me: Um, she was totally cool. A non-issue.

Bob: Told you.

Me: My shirtsleeve got caught on the door. At least I didn’t fall.

Bob: That’s my girl. Nothing like making an ass of yourself. Now that you’ve told everyone maybe you should tell Ben?

Me: Maybe.

Bob: What do you mean maybe? Just tell him. Are you going to avoid him forever?

Me: No

Bob: Stop trying to end the conversation with one word answers. You don’t scare me. TELL HIM!

Me: No yelling. Can I text him?

Bob: You can’t be serious...

Me: I am.

Bob: NO! Yes, I’m yelling. Meet him for dinner or something. He deserves it.

Me: FINE! I’ll stop by his office on my way home today. Happy now?

Bob: Yes

Me: I gotta go. Live you! XOXO

Bob: Live you, too.

Me: Damn phone

My next stop is Melinda’s office. She’s on the phone and I catch her off guard. She quickly spins her chair around to look at me and the smile drops from her face. When I walked up she was doing her usually flirty laugh. It’s borderline obnoxious, but who am I to judge her methods. She’s scored more guys with it than I could if I had showed up to a bar topless. She lowers her voice slightly and begins to respond in one word answers; ending the call quickly.

“Who was that?” I ask.

“Just someone I went on a date with. No biggie,” she says nonchalantly, flipping her hand at the phone. “How’d it go with Ellie? Guessing she didn’t fire you.”

“Nope. Actually she was totally fine with it. Really nice. Strange, huh?”

“That’s good. Now you can stop stressing about it,” Melinda says. She’s coming across distracted, which isn’t that unusual. The strange part is that she has failed to give me any information on her most recent date. She loves to talk about them, brag about them and also fill me in on all the gory details that no one should be privy to. But today, she’s a closed book.

“At least now I can walk around with my pants unbuttoned and have a legitimate excuse,” I add to gage her response. Knowing Melinda, she’ll quip back with a joke.

“That’s true,” is all she says.

I leave her office feeling like I came in during the middle of a movie. Something is bothering her, but I don’t want to press the issue. Especially if it’s something she’s not comfortable sharing. Melinda shares everything, so it must be intensely private for her not to say anything.

As much as Bob had me convinced to tell Ben, I head home straight from work. I arrive home to an empty house. I call Tyler but his phone goes straight to voicemail. I can’t remember if he is in court today, so I call back again. Then I send a text. Somehow now that I’m pregnant my need to know where he is at all times doesn’t seem as ridiculous. I put a calendar up on the wall in our kitchen and asked him to write down his court days, but he dismissed me as if I were a mother asking her teenager to give up his nightly whereabouts.

My phone begins to ring a few minutes later while I’m microwaving leftover spaghetti from our dinner out last night. I grab the phone assuming it’s Tyler and get the shock my life. My screen lights up with the name “Mom”.

My emotions run wild and a small part of me hopes that she has found out that I’m pregnant and is calling with congratulatory remarks. This pregnancy just might be what is needed to salvage any inkling of family we may have left. After all she is the baby’s grandma. I answer the phone with benefit of the doubt replaying over in my head. It’s gone so well for the first two conversations, maybe third time’s a charm.

“Hello?” I answer with more enthusiasm than necessary.

“Kristin, this is your mother,” she says. “I’m calling to inform you that your father has passed away.” Without pausing to allow this to sink in she continues at a quick pace all the while I’m still trying to wrap my head around the fact that the call is not about my pregnancy. “The wake and funeral services will need to be arranged by the next of kin. That is you and your sisters. If you are unable to make it back to Illinois to take care of this your father will become an unclaimed body. The state of Illinois will bury him. The choice is yours. I just thought you should know. I already spoke to Rachel. Will you please call Courtney? Thank you. Good-bye.”

She hangs up before I can even speak. It was gigantic one-sided conversation that was basically a string of run-on sentences due to the speed she delivered them. I slide down into the kitchen chair. I’m shocked to say the least, but I’m even more shocked at my own stupidity. I can’t believe I would even for a second consider that her contacting me would hold any purpose other than to convey information. A business transaction. I can picture her calling from the kitchen of the house I grew up in; a hand on her hip, her blonde hair swept into a neat chignon, tailored business suit with a glass of wine in her hand. It’s the way she looked every day of my life. I’m sure the reason she placed the call when she did is because in just under an hour she will be drunk.

I call Rachel as soon as my mother hangs up on me. At least she was able to gather a little more information regarding our father’s whereabouts and how quickly we will need to arrive in Illinois. Rachel and Paul are flying back to Illinois on Thursday, which is two days from now. Rachel takes over calling Maizey while I make what arrangements I can over the phone. We both agree before hanging up that burying our father will be something that is not left to the state of Illinois, even though we haven’t seen him in years.

I call Tyler for third time with the same straight to voicemail response. Seconds later I get a text from him.

Tyler: What do you want? Working late. Big case starts on Tuesday.

Me: My dad died.

Tyler: Sorry. L Can we talk later? Super busy.

I have to check my phone for a second time because I am completely astounded by his use of a frowny face in reference to my father’s death. Really? A frowny face? What are we, fifteen? I can only respond with a one word answer because what I really want to send in one message will be broken into multiple messages and Tyler will give his usual response. “TL; DR”.

Me: Sure

I pick up the phone and call Melinda and she doesn’t answer, so I call Bob.

“Hey, can you meet me for dinner tonight? Or at least a drink? I know I can’t drink, but you know what I mean.”

“Sure. What’s up?”

“My dad died and Tyler is working late. I don’t really feel like being alone.”

“Oh baby, I’m so sorry. I know you weren’t close with your dad, but still. That doesn’t make it any easier.”

“I think it makes it worse. The guilt is unreal.” I choke back the tears that have been threatening since hanging up with Rachel.

“Name the place and I’ll be there. Did you call Mel?”

“I called her, but she didn’t answer. You want to meet at Richmond?” I know his response even before I say it, but I still ask and when he declines I’ve got the pregnancy card in my back pocket.

“Richmond in El Segundo? Eww, no, they don’t have gluten free beer, but I will, because your dad just died. You owe me. I’ll be there in two days.”

“Stop being dramatic, just get here. I figured I was going to have to play the pregnancy card, but now I can use it later. Either way the baby wants teriyaki beef sliders. I’ll meet you by the front door.”

“Okay. I’ll call Mel again before I leave. See you soon and again, I’m sorry about your dad, love.”

“I know. Thanks. Bye.”

I change out of my work clothes into a pair of yoga pants, because by the end of the day the thought of buttoning a pair of jeans makes my stomach literally hurt. I wash my face, brush my teeth and pull on a short sleeve t-shirt. I send Tyler a quick text.

Me: Meeting Bob for dinner. You’re off the hook. Stay as late as you want.

Slightly passive aggressive on my part, I know, but still.

Tyler: K

I roll my eyes at his response and shout out loud, almost too loud. “Really?” That’s the reply I get after my father dies and another man is consoling me.