Page 92 of I Saw You First

“Yeah, I’ll get to that,” she says. “They filled your lifestyles position, too. Not right away, but a few weeks later, this guy named Clark. He’s on your side of the cube, and he stinks, Abbey. Like, literally and figuratively. Body odor and bad grammar.”

She’s rambling now, but I don’t stop her with all the questions swirling in my mind.

“Then Kim retired out of nowhere, and Slick Dick announced a reorg. Ryan would take over lifestyles, too, and now all of a sudden, half the staff reports to him. But there’s something going on, I know it. Kim wasn’t planning to retire so soon. The real kicker is that a couple of days after Christmas, Laura doesn’t show up. Ryan tells us she’s done, just like that. Like Carina. Like you. So, tell me, Abbey, why would she do that?”

The pit monster wakes in a fury and bangs its shoulder into my rib cage. Oh, god. I don’t want to talk about this. I don’t want to tell her. I’m over it. It’s behind me. I love my job at Hometown, and I’m going to make something of it. I’m sending Hal two or three articles for every issue of the zine, and maybe someday, I’ll publish my own.

“How would I know?” I ask. “I don’t even know her.”

She huffs out a breath. “I think… I think that there’s something you’re not telling me. Maybe about Carina? Like, did you find out something or did he say something about her… I don’t know. I just know that things have been off since you left.”

She doesn’t ask the question I’m dreading. Somehow, she hasn’t connected the dots between what was rumored to have happened with Carina and what happened to me that day in Ryan’s office.

“I don’t know anything about Carina.” But… wait. Why is she asking this? “Tam, are you okay? Did—did Ryan do… or say… something to you? Is that why you’re asking about Carina?”

“No,” she says quickly—almost too quickly. “No. Just—if you think of something, remember anything at all, let me know, okay?”

I stare out the window at the wild, whirling snow for a long time and wait for the ache in my heart to lessen.

Coach, the GM at the Baxter store, sets up a phone interview. On the call, he sounds more nervous than I do for some reason. He asks a few questions and says that he’ll be in touch if they want to arrange an in-person interview. The following day, he sends me an email: It was great chatting with me, he’s heard great things, I’m a great employee with great ideas, and it would be great to someday have me on his team, but I don’t quite have the experience he’s looking for.

Great. Fucking great. And this after my phone interview with Cedar Rapids came to a very quick dead end. That GM there told me he’d be in touch in a few days with next steps, and then, nothing.

I read the email from Coach again and then open the HEAS job board. I apply for every merch manager and media team captain position available, even outside of the Midwest. Dinkytown. Mankato, Minnesota. Joliet, Illinois. Golden, Colorado, close to Red Rocks Amphitheatre. I’ve never been, but I could see myself living in Colorado.

Cambridge, Massachusetts. Hometown Electronics recently announced an expansion into the Boston market. Sure, Boston will still be in the Hometown spotlight, but I’d get away from the flagship and the corporate eyes and… Wil. Wil who wanted me and then didn’t. And it turns out that the Boston team is in town this week and using the Performance Center for interviews.

I apply in three clicks. I think I’ll like New England.

TWENTY-SIX

“EVERYBODY HURTS” BY R.E.M., 1992

WIL

Mom rents a villa with an enormous pool in Phoenix. She doesn’t give any of us much notice, and even Kaplan has to scramble to make it work. The best part about this forced-family holiday is that Kap finally comes clean and brings his boyfriend Jordan along, although he hasn’t come out to Dad yet.

The worst part of the trip is everything else.

Mom has planned nearly every minute of every hour we’re here. A hike at a hot, dusty nature preserve. Nine holes for the guys at the legendary Arizona Biltmore Golf Club while Mom and Kelsey have a spa day. A minibus tour of haunted Phoenix. Dinners at high-end restaurants. Fake Christmas Eve, complete with movies and stockings and a tray of homemade cookies.

Our last full day, Mom has scheduled a “relaxing afternoon at the pool,” and the universe cooperates. It’s beautiful, hot, sunny, exactly the opposite of what’s waiting for us when we return to Minnesota.

I’ve avoided Kelsey, and she knows why—the little snitch. Out at the pool, Mom, Kap, and Jordan provide a buffer on chaise lounges between me and my sister. I’ve been in a bad mood for most of this vacation, and that’s also helped. Mom’s kept us busy enough, too, that I haven’t thought about the mess I’ve made back home—much. I’ve mostly forgotten the look on Abbey’s face, first when I apologized for my inappropriate behavior and sounded like a fucking cyborg, and then when she accused me of looking for an easy lay.

Abbey’s right. Jeremy’s right. I’m an asshole. And once again, I let my father and my career goals dictate the trajectory of my life. This time, though, I did it for Abbey. Some days, I wonder if I should have told her, but I know her. I know she would hate that I was trying to protect her and save her job.

Jordan and Kaplan go into the house to play video games in the air-conditioned villa. This sounds like a euphemism, but it’s legit: Jordan brought a promo of some hot new title that hasn’t been released yet. When they get up, Kelsey waddles over and settles in next to Mom.

Mom sighs. “I’m absolutely thrilled for Kaplan and Jordan. Such a cute couple, too.”

In some ways, Mom has aged since I last saw her. Her ash-blonde hair is now nearly all gray, and there are more laugh lines around her mouth and eyes, but in other ways, she seems much younger. She’s lost weight, she smiles more, she plays tennis, and I know she doesn’t have to worry about money anymore like during the Wausau years. She’s found purpose in her work, and a partner whose values align with hers.

“Yeah, I’m sure Kap would love to hear you call him cute,” I say.

Mom chuckles but Kelsey huffs. “Why can’t you be happy for them, Wil?”

“Did I say I wasn’t happy for them?” I bite back. “Of course I’m fucking happy for them. Just like I’ve always been happy for you and Andre. And how nice of you to be so supportive of their relationship.” I don’t hold back on the sarcasm.