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We don’t really talk anymore, but that has nothing to do with her impressive knowledge of dirty words.
“I’m in a meeting,” I tell her. “Can I call you back?”
“We need to talk about Gramps.”
I sit down heavily in a beautifully molded leather chair. Nothing less than the best for employees of Warner Power, voted the best New York Management Consultancy firm three times in the last four years.
“What’s up with Gramps? Is he ill?” I ask. I’m not close to him, but I have a heart. And he’s in his late eighties.
He’s also scary as hell. And shouts louder than anybody I’ve ever met.
Somebody says something in the background. My mom replies with her sweet voice. “Honey, I have to go to rehearsals now. We’ll talk later.”
“What?”
“Tonight?” she suggests, ignoring the outraged tone in my voice. Did she really call me out of one of the most important meetings in my life forthis?
“I’m busy tonight.”Much like I was busy right now.
“Let’s say ten o’clock then,” she says. “Bye, darling. Love you.”
Before I can open my mouth to tell her I won’t be around at ten, there’s a dial tone filling my ear. I grit my teeth and put the phone on the table in front of me, before dropping my head into my hands.
And then I let out a long, pained, and very silent scream.
Because that’s the effect my family has on me.
* * *
Somebody has ordered another three bottles of champagne. It’s flowing like water and everybody is happy and laughing. I can’t remember the last time the whole team socialized together. Our Christmas party was canceled when we came up against a software issue on the twenty-first of December last year. We spent Christmas Day mainlining coffee in the office.
And yeah, maybe I was kind of glad that I had to work because otherwise I wouldn’t have had an excuse not to fly to L.A. to spend time with my family. But I did, and that was that.
“So, did Mark catch you after the meeting?” Rachel asks me.
I shake my head at my favorite co-worker. Once the urge to throw myself into a fire had gone, I’d snuck back into the boardroom, but by then Mark had finished his speech and everybody was getting ready to leave.
“I’ll apologize tomorrow,” I tell her. He’s here tonight but he’s in the corner booth with our clients and there’s no way I want to interrupt them.
“Okay, ladies, I have the perfect thing for you.” Allison, our intern, slides into the booth next to us, a glass of champagne in one hand, her phone in the other. She’s been working for us for the last two years since she graduated from business school. She also makes me and Rachel feel really old.
“There are ladies around here?” Rachel jokes, looking around.
I snigger.
“I’m serious. My boyfriend’s working on this app and I think it’ll solve all your problems.”
Allison’s boyfriend is some kind of digital wunderkind. He’s also permanently broke and mooches off Allison, but whatever.
“Does it give you multiple orgasms and then empty the dishwasher?” I ask.
Allison blinks. “No.” And I immediately feel bad. She looks so earnest and I don’t want to rain on her parade.
Rachel doesn’t look like she feels bad at all. “Okay, so will it go for my pap smear for me, and then give me a full body massage while telling me I’m beautiful?” she asks, trying not to grin.
“It’s not that kind of app.” Allison says patiently. “But honestly, you’re going to love it. It’s made for older women like you.”
Ouch.
