Page 107 of How to Kiss a Hawthorne Brother
Perry:Thanks.
Just when I think I need to abandon the puns and revert back to boring professionalism, a personal email shows up in Perry’s inbox. I immediately wonder if this is the moment I’ve been waiting for. I finally have an in. A reason to make an actual phone call.
But then, by the time I’ve read the email, I’m not so sure. If I’m going to have a “first” conversation with my boss, I don’t think I want it to be about whatever drama is behind this message.
The email is brief, and though it’s clearly addressed to Perry’s work email, it isnotwork related.
Perry— I’m still awaiting your RSVP to the reunion. I hope we can be mature about this. Just because I’m in charge doesn’t mean you shouldn’t come. Have you blocked my messages from your personal account? They keep getting returned, which is why I’m emailing you here. I’ve attached the official reunion invite in case you haven’t gotten it. Please RSVP. And please come. - JH
My fingers hover over the chat box. When clients set up the parameters of their email accounts, they can specify a list of senders or even entire domains to filter into a private inbox that I can’t see. Most prefer that all return emails go directly to them,or anything from existing contacts, leaving only new or general inquiries going to the VA. If anything slips through that looks like something the client should handle on their own, I can move it into their private inbox.
That’s probably what I should do now. But if someone has been hounding Perry’s personal email accounts, maybe he’d prefer I handle this for him, keep some level of distance between him and whoever this person is.
Perry is online and logged into the VA software, so I type him a quick message.
Lila:Goodapplenoon, Mr. Hawthorne. . .
Oh good grief.
My brain is working against me now. I delete and try again. There’s a time to be punny and a time to not, and I sense that this is definitely a time to not.
Lila:Good afternoon, Mr. Hawthorne. I’ve just received an email from someone regarding some sort of reunion for you. I don’t want to overstep, but the email feels a little. . .pushy? I’m happy to reply if you’d prefer not to hear from them again.
To my (too much) delight, he replies immediately.
Perry:Pushy? In what way?
Rather than move the email into his private inbox, which would cut off my access to the message, I go old school and simply forward it to him so that I can still reply should he need me to.
Lila:Just forwarded the email.
I drum my fingers against my desk, waiting for him to respond.
When five minutes go by with no new messages, I pull up Perry’s calendar and check the date, referring back to the invitation attached to the email. “The Grove Park Inn,” I say out loud. “Fancy.”
I skim the remaining details. It’s for Perry’s high school graduating class. Fifteen years, which means he’s only four years older than I am.Interesting.I’d always imagined him slightly older. The fact that he isn’t sends a tiny thrill shooting through me. Four years isn't a very big age gap. If that sort of thing mattered, which, because Perry is my boss and also might be very married, it doesnot.
The reunion is an overnight event, which feels kinda swanky, but then, I don’t really have anything to compare it to. My ten-year reunion was last year, and I skipped it. The idea of trying to find my place among the happily married couples and the still-single-and-living-it-up crowd sounded much too stressful. Plus, my senior class created a new senior superlative just for me: Most Likely to Be onAmerican Idol. The fact that I didn’t make it to Nashville to pursue a singing career like I hoped did a good job of dampening my desire to go and reconnect with old classmates.
There’s nothing on Perry’s calendar that conflicts with the reunion. It’s before both the harvest festival and the restaurant opening, so there’s no reason Perry can’t go. Though, based on the tone of the email, I’m guessing he probably doesn’t want to. The message doesn’t read like a “first contact” email; it reads more like a “you still haven’t responded” email.
When another five minutes go by, I begin to think I should have just forwarded the message and kept myself out of it. But I already started the conversation. I type out one more message. If he doesn’t engage after this one, I’ll leave it alone.
Lila:Fifteen years! That’s a big one. Would you like me to send in your RSVP? I checked your calendar, and it’s clear on the dates of the reunion.
Perry’s reply comes through almost immediately.
Perry:I’ll take care of the email. Thanks for forwarding.
And . . . our conversation is over.
When the three dots appear indicating that Perry is typing again, a surge of hope pulses through me.
Perry:I’m heading out early today, so you’re welcome to do the same.
I breathe out a sigh. It was almost a conversation. But not really.
Perry:And Lila? Iapple-laudyour efforts this week.
