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Laughter fills a room not far from where I’m sitting. The sound filters down the hall and into the office that is Hope’s home away from home. She splits her time between the Hope Foundation and her home with her two babies. Looking at the space, a person wouldn’t believe it was once a bedroom. This place was beautiful before it was renovated into offices. The house was built in 1935 and was instantaneously loved by each of us.
This room was a deep, dark blue, but Hope changed the color to a rich, lighter brown. She kept singing the name of it so now it’s stuck in my head. The toffee crunch color grew on me. The cedar wood on the furniture still looks new. It speaks to the care and protection that Hope gives to everyone and everything she encounters. Walking around the office, I check out the books on the shelves and on the table in front of the camel-colored couch on the opposite wall from her desk. At the bank of windows is a brown leatherVitra Eameslounge chair with a matching ottoman. I know it because I have two at home.
I settle into the oversized chocolate brown chair. This is one of the only seats I haven’t tried in my numerous visits to Hope’s office. Now that I have, I might have to roll this sucker out the back door. My phone vibrates in my pocket and no part of me wants to even know who’s calling me.
The door to the office opens and I catch her dark hair before anything else. She’s in a pants suit and sneakers today. The jeans and t-shirt I tossed on make me look as if I plan to spend the day in my garage. Giving how the day started, it’s a wonder I’m even dressed. Speaking to Dr. Embers didn’t help. I actually feel worse.
It's the questions for me.
“Did you come because you wanted to be here, or did you come because you thought it was what your family wanted?”
“I’m here. I said I wouldn’t fight them on it.”
“Yes, you’re here but you’ve said nothing. It’s the second day in a row you’ve done this.”
“Maybe there’s nothing for me to say?”
She writes something on the pad in her lap.
“Mr. Shaw, Daire, I’ve known you for how long?”
I shrug because I honestly can’t recall how long I’ve known the good doctor. The Hope Foundation has been running now for about five years. I’m guessing that long. She’s been around since pretty much its inception. It’s the reason she’s the Director of things. Fuck if I know her real title.
“Five years?”
“It’s been ... whatever. That’s unimportant. What is important is I’ve known you long enough to know when you are the person driving a situation versus when you’re allowing someone else to believe they are the one doing the driving.”
“You’re saying I’m not here because I want to be here.”
“Are you posing a question or making a statement?”
As I replayed the words on repeat, I questioned the truth of them. I don’t know if my actions were to appease my family members or if I knew I needed to be here. Either way, I left my session with more questions than answers. The main question is ...
“What the hell are you doing in my office?”
Leaning back slightly, I can see she’s standing in her doorway looking rather peeved at the fact that I’m in her space. I don’t bother getting up. I’m comfortable and I know that’s going to piss her off more than anything else.
“How did you even get in here? You do remember you have an office space of your own right up the hall, right?”
With my head leaned back, I smile up at the one woman who is still willing to tolerate my face and my antics.
“Why would I go to the large, dusty, empty, lonely, dusty, lifeless space when yours is right here and full of so much of the opposite of all that?”
She rolls her eyes then closes her door. As she walks past where I’m seated, she pushes the back of my head while pressing the lever to disengage the reclining feature. Hope makes her way to the fridge hidden in one of the shelves and retrieves a drink. One sails through the air, headed towards me as she moves to the seat across from where I’m sitting.
“Your office could be all of those things if you would ... what’s that phrase again ... use it.”
I uncap the bottle of apple juice, take a drink, then cap it again.
“Thank you for the juice.” I settle back in my seat, making a show of how comfortable I feel in it. I know it’s going to annoy her as evidenced by the cap that hits me in the chest seconds later. “Hey. What was that for?”
“You know why. Now, toss it back.”
“What would be the fun in being in that space if I’m just going to be in here with you most of the time anyway?” I toss her back her top. “Plus, you’ve got this place running just the way you like it. Me being here would do nothing but put a monkey wrench in your set up.”
I hear her sigh and can practically see the disappointment in her face. My phone vibrates and I ignore it. I’m aiming to pretend it doesn’t exist. It wouldn’t be on me if Graham wouldn’t have slammed it into my hand at the last minute as we were walking out the door this morning.
“Why are you avoiding her calls?” This question has me raising my head. I’m shocked to find her still sitting in the chair across from me. “She’s going to keep calling and you know it. You might as well get over with. Quick and painless.”
