Page 142 of Pick-Up
I picture him at a large glass desk in one of a row of offices, a segment of the skyline visible out the window. No doubt his desk is spotless.
“You really did a fantastic job,” he says. “The footage came out so well. We’re all thrilled. I shared it with Ethan earlier, and he’s also really pleased.”
“I’m so glad!” I chirp. Because I am. But also because—is he? Something ricochets through me at the mention of his name.
“So, I wanted to talk to you about the full-time position. If you’re interested, we’d like to connect you with HR and begin serious conversations about it.”
The job! My heart sings. And then hits a sharp note and nose-dives. How do I even say this delicately? This isn’t Stephanie. I trust Derek to be discreet, but I also don’t want him to judge me.
“Derek,” I say, staring at myself in Nettie’s full-length mirror as I speak. Would I take me seriously? I am wearing a “Maryland is for crabs!” T-shirt. “Um. I’m not sure I can work for Ethan. Or that it would even be ethical for him to consider hiring me.” I bite my lip, cringe at myself.
There is a weighty pause. “Right, well, he has already officially recused himself from the hiring process because he knows you personally, outside of work. Asparents.At the school.”
He says these last words with emphasis. Because that’s how Ethan and I know each other. Not from the outdoor shower. Only, I get the sense that Derek knows more than he’s letting on. As usual.
“But what about working for him? Won’t that also be a conflict? Because of… the school connection?”
“HR will designate someone else as your supervisor, likely me, so that you can be assured of objective treatment.”
“Wait, really?”Is this happening?It dawns on me that all my worry over having tanked this opportunity was for nothing. So much wastedenergy. The position can still be mine! The money! The 401(k)! The Christmas parties (where Professional Sasha willnotget drunk and make out with the boss)! Well. Probably not.
Relief drops through me.
“Really,” says Derek. “So? Interested?”
I am blown away. I have not blown it all. The job is still a possibility. And Ethan has paved the way for me without ever being asked.
“I am interested. Beyond interested. It’s my dream job, and I would love to be considered.”
“Good.” I can hear the smile in Derek’s voice. “For what it’s worth, I’m hopeful that, even without this official HR process in place, you and Ethan would not have let… school… get in the way.”
“Really?” I am feeling more bold. “But you seemed dubious from the start.”
“Only because I thought you were married. And I could see what was happening.”
“What was happening?”
“Schoolwas happening.”Schoolhas clearly become a synonym forsex, which is deeply awkward, but still less awkward than sayingshower sex.
“What made you think it would happen?”
“Because I’ve been working with that man for long enough,” says Derek, in a rare moment of candor. “I could tell how much he liked you from the second I saw you together. When he passed your name on initially, I had no idea he actually knew or had any opinion about you. He didn’t let on. And, when I realized… man, it stressed me out.”
“You think he really liked me? From the beginning?” A fresh kaleidoscope of nerves flutters through me. But, in the mirror, I can’t keep the smile off my face. It’s embarrassing even to me. What am I doing? Ethan lied to me. Can he even be trusted? Can I? Can we show our faces at school? Is he even still interested? Probably not. He’s certainly given me a lot of space.
“I think he likes you, currently. I think he’s an amazing catch. And as your potential supervisor, I think I should not be having this conversation with you.”
“Right,” I say. “Conversation over. Almost. I don’t know, Derek. The situation is already so complicated. It all seems less than ideal.”
“Maybe,” says Derek. “But love is never convenient.”
Love.
When we get off the phone, I sit down on Nettie’s bed. In her sweet room. With its white walls and pastel bedding, stray friendship bracelets and owl paraphernalia lining the shelves.
And I recognize in this moment, I have at least given my children this. Stability. Cheer. Love. With this job, maybe I can give them more.
But what have I not given myself? What are my barriers to happiness? To partnership? To love? What have they been all along?
