Page 44 of Same Time Next Summer

I put down my phone and pick it back up again.

I text him: Are you up?

Immediate reply: A little jet-lagged so yes. How’s life in the big city?

He used to say this, I remember, when we were apart during the school year. I’d smile when he asked it because it made me feel cool, like he thought maybe my city life wasglamorous. I’m staring at those words now, uncomfortable with the way my body is leaning off the edge of that cliff.

Wyatt: Sam?

Me: Sorry, was just drying my hair. Life in the big city is pretty glamorous for an unemployed consultant

Wyatt: Did they fire you?

Me: I meet the firing squad at 10

Wyatt: I hope it goes well, but don’t beg for a job you don’t want. That’s not who you are

Me: Easy for you to say, you’re rich

Wyatt: Aren’t you the one marrying a doctor?

Me: Haha. Okay I need to get moving, I’ll text you later.

I don’t know why that conversation has made me feel better. “Don’t beg for a job you don’t want” is great advice, and I take it to heart. That isn’t who I am. I put my phone down and take in my bedroom. This is the space that Jack and I share. He loves the gray Roman shades on the windows and the matching club chairs at the foot of the bed. We both gravitated to the muted gray color scheme in the Pottery Barn catalog because it felt calm and sophisticated. But today it makes me feel like I’m in a military cafeteria.

I arrive at Human Corps ten minutes early. I walk through the lobby like I have a million times, but this time as I say good morning to Alvin behind the security desk, I’m preemptively embarrassed about the fact that I’ll probably be back down in thirty minutes carrying a telltale cardboard box. I’m in a casual dress and sandals, mainly because it’s ninety-eight degrees in midtown Manhattan, but looking down at my feet now, I realize I’ve never shown my toes here before.

I make my way to Eleanor’s office, nodding hello to cubicled people who likely know my fate already. I knock on her open door and she looks up and smiles. A smile is a good sign.

“Sam, come in.” She’s in a black wool suit, because maybe she doesn’t know about its being August outside. I take a seat across from her desk, which puts me a full inch lower than she is. Everything at Human Corps is by design, and I’m sure this is no exception. She leans forward and clangs her gold bangles on the desk. “This has been really stressful for me.”

“I’m sorry,” I say, and I don’t know why. Am I sorry about the flash mob or wasting company time or just having inflicted work stress on my boss?

“Well it’s been hell trying to explain this to management, how my best organizational consultant brought about sheer chaos.”

“Chaos” seems a bit extreme. The whole song is less than four minutes. “Their dance was actually very well choreographed.” I don’t know where these words came from but they are out, and I cannot grab them back.

“Is that a joke?” Eleanor is clenching her folded hands.

“No. I mean, it doesn’t matter now, but I was impressed with how well they all worked together. Which was what the client asked for.” This is not going well. She is perfectly still, staring at me. I need to go back to the general “I’m sorry,” but I’m just not feeling it.

“Do you want this job or not?”

It’s a great question, and all I know for sure is that Idon’t want to look for another job and have to explain over and over about the flash mob. “I do,” I say.

She’s looking at the floor as if she’s trying to formulate the right words. She’s making this overly difficult, and I wonder if this is the first time she’s ever made a decision like this without a chart.

“You’re wearing sandals,” she says finally. “I’ve never seen you in sandals before.”

“Yes, I hope that’s okay. It’s ninety-eight degrees out, though it’s actually freezing in here.”

“It’s fine.” She shakes off whatever conclusion she was coming to about the state of my footwear and goes on. “Purcell and I have decided we want to give you another chance. I know, we are not about second chances for our clients’ employees, but we’re making an exception here because you have a history of being exceptionally diligent.”

“Thank you.” I feel a “but” coming.

“For your next few projects, you will not be client facing. You’ll be here sorting through the reports and data that you’re sent. The first one is an analysis of employee health care costs, so it’s all in black and white.”

I have a feeling of being let back in, like I was on the outside and the circle has opened back up to me. I think of the girls at the beach going to that party without me and how it was okay because I knew I belonged with Wyatt, sitting there on the cove looking at the water while he buried my feet to keep them from burning.

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