Page 39 of Error Handling

Don’t forget me while I’m gone.

It’s not like you’re going to war.

You’ve never been to an HR conference.

I won’t forget you, I text. And then I add,Text me when you get back. Or before then.

Will do.

Satisfied that we reached the end of our conversation, I set my phone back on the glossy oak table and enjoy a hot sip of my café mocha.

Cassie texted me earlier today to see how my date with Christopher went. I was too tired to offer many details, plus I didn’t want Cassie getting all excited over text, so I just said,It was okay.

Cassie responded with,Just okay?

I promised more details tomorrow, which satisfied her. I’m not ready to give her another notch in her matchmaking belt. Besides, there’s a kink in Cassie’s match made in heaven, and his name is Chris.

With Chris stuck under the sink and me manhandling the shop vac for over an hour, we didn’t have much time to talk. When it was finally time for him to leave, he was non-communicative. I tried to chalk it up to fatigue, but part of me felt like something in him had changed.

Maybe he’d had more time to think about my celiac comment or my suggestion that being a handyman isn’t a real job. Maybe finagling with metal pipes all evening put him in a bad mood. He left with his jaw set and his brow pinched. I didn’t have the courage to ask for his number.

Just like that, he was gone. Again.

My phone rings. I sigh and dig out my earphones.

“Hey, Dad,” I say.

“Daniel told me that Karen told her that Pat is going down there for spring break.” My father insists on calling his ex—my mother—Pat because he knows how much she hates it. “I checked Ohio State’s spring break,” Dad continues. “It’s the same as yours. How is that supposed to work? I already rented the VRBO and It’s too late to back out.”

I recline in my chair, take a deep breath, and look at the ceiling. This phone call was inevitable.

My parents’ longtime friends, Daniel and Karen, are stuck in the middle of Mom and Dad’s dysfunctional relationship just like I am. My parents play both sides. Mom and Karen are still besties, so they take one side. Dad and Daniel still play golf on the weekends, so they take the other side.

“I’m sure it will be fine,” I say, even though I’m sure it won’t.

“Why didn’t you tell me Pat was coming before I rented the VRBO?”

“She told me after you already had your reservation.”

“Why didn’t you tell her not to come?”

“Really, Dad?” He already knows why. He was married to Mom for twenty years.

Dad grumbles on the other end of the line. I think I hear the name Karen amidst the grumbles. No doubt Daniel told Karen about Dad’s spring break plans, and then Karen told Mom, and the rest is history. Actually, spring break is still two weeks in the future—a future I’m very much not looking forward to.

“Well, I’m going to call her myself and tell her to reschedule,” Dad says.

“No! Dad. That never goes well. Let me take care of it. I’ll figure it out.”

“What are we going to do, split you in two?”

“I can spend half the day with you and half with her.”

“Mary already has dinners planned and the food pre-ordered.”

“What?”

“She put in an order at some grocery store you guys have down there and they’re going to deliver it on the day we arrive.”

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