AllFreeNovel
Share Us
While it wasn’t challenging work, I liked most of my co-workers, and I got to see Garrett every day. Plus, every now and then there was a cool event that we got to plan or an actual, bona fide superstar to set up media for (her name might start withMand end withA, just saying), and I was busy, not bored out of my tree. This wasn’t the fault of the job—it was fine, it just wasn’t for me. But that meant admitting that I wanted something different, something more, and, well, I couldn’t quite get there either. It paid well. I was lucky to have it. These were facts I needed to remind myself when I was falling down an internet trap after I’d finished all the day’s tasks, and there were still four hours left in the day.
Since it was the holiday season, there wasn’t a lot going on. There was busywork—making sure the listings were correct, wading through the usual amount of customer complaints—but as of the next day, Christmas Eve, our offices would run on a skeleton staff for a week. Only those actively pressing the buttons to make the network go needed to be here. I felt bad for the engineers, but not bad enough to switch over to their department.
Downtime was dangerous, though—long days punctuated by the fact that I’d have to come back in the new year and begin my “new me” by starting in the exact same position. No job change. No commute change. No timetable change. Nothing “new,” actually. I call bullshit on all the New Year, New You promotions that promise inner growth and eventual happiness. I’d spent enough of my measly bonus on books from the gorgeous store in the building kitty-corner from work. Yoga to balance me out. Getting in touch with my feelings to counter what I’d consider to be a dead-end job. Doing endless online quizzes to determine what personality traits have led me here. Searching for answers I should probably have in myself but haven’t quite got the hang of yet in this whole adulting stage I’m in.
Sure, I could move up to manager or over to the marketing department, but this was still so far removed from the dreams I’d had after finishing my film degree. I love television. I could spend all day watching decorating shows, but I’d always dreamed of creating the programs, not simply publicizing the work of other people. I’m adjacent. My dreams were never to be in front of the camera but behind it—making the decisions, framing the shot, understanding what went into the storytelling.
Garrett’s job as a programmer made me jealous. He was a member of the team who chose what went on air, and sometimes worked to bring important shows to broadcast. His work wasn’t without its struggles either—budgets were slashed, hours were cut, network directions changed—but at least he was on the right side of the camera.
We’d been friends ever since we started on the first day and went through two rigorous weeks of onboarding. Endless meetings with the various other departments. Tours of the studios. Chats with the CEO. Teamwork, everyone explained, was the backbone of each decision made. Garrett’s eyes sparkled as he cracked joke after joke, his slender frame always folding into the available seat beside me. If I wasn’t with Rob, and he didn’t have a long-term girlfriend (Jen), there’s no doubt I would have been convinced he was flirting. And maybe he still was—but it was low-key, with no stakes. I’d never cheated on Rob, and I wasn’t planning on doing it any time soon. But as my time with the company progressed, so did our friendship. And now we spent almost every lunch hour together, alongside texts, instant messaging while at the office, and hanging out at every work event. The details I kept to myself. And I downplayed all the time I spent with Garrett to Rob. That didn’t feel great, if I was being honest. Still, the guilt didn’t make me stop. Case in point, bringing Garrett pastries from my favorite coffee shop.
The elevator was slow, and by the time I got upstairs, Garrett wasn’t in his office. He’d probably wandered off to collect some tapes, or else he was in a production meeting. I dropped off his pastries and made a pit stop before heading back to my desk: the coffee machine on his floor had the best brew in the entire building. The programmers had complained the loudest to senior management on one of those employee happiness questionnaires we had had a few months ago, and they were rewarded with a state-of-the-art machine that spewed out designer swill. The programmers needed it. After all, they spent most of their days sitting at their desks watching reel after reel with their feet up on their desks, headphones on.
Cup of scalding hot coffee in hand, I headed back down to my floor via the stairs, relishing the cool air of the concrete hallway before I was hit with the stifling, half-dead air on our floor.
I had barely put on my headset when my phone rang. The call display readGOV OF ONTARIO, which made me panic for a moment before answering. “Kelly Haggerty speaking, how may I help you?”
“Dude.” Meghan’s voice piped into the earpiece. “You sound so professional.”
“Why are you calling me from the government?” I asked. “I worried someone might be taking me to task for my sloppy taxes or something.”
“Rob does your taxes, and they are always impeccable. I’m in the travel office in the same building as the daycare. It’s an Ontario Tourism thing. They let me use the phone sometimes.”
“You never call me at work,” I said.
“Are you sitting down?”
“That’s a silly question, Meg.”
“I have huge news, and I don’t want you to freak out.”
“I am too hungover to freak out,” I said. “It was our Christmas party last night.”
“I’m pregnant.”
“You’re what?”
“With child.”
“Shut up.”
“Nope. Confirmed this morning by the blood test. Mom said I should wait to tell people, but I can’t keep a secret from you.”
The phone line crackled as we both went quiet. I listened to my sister’s breathing on the other end, knowing she was waiting for me to say something. “I’m incredibly happy for you.”
“Honestly?”
“Yes. You and Jason will be awesome parents, far more stable than Mom pre-Carl.”
There was a loud beep on the line, and my sister said, “We can talk more later, I’ve got to go. I’m not supposed to be using thisparticularphone, and I’m getting dirty looks from some suit.”
We said our good-byes, and after I hung up, there was a static pressure in the air from the million questions piling up: Had Meghan gotten pregnant on purpose? They were so young. Too young. And how was it that my younger sister was constantly further ahead in life than I was? We were in that phase. Marriages and babies everywhere. After the chaos of my younger life, I was convinced I wanted neither. Rob still held out hope I’d change my mind once we were properly settled. And then that got me spinning even further because I might be twenty-eight, but I was nowhere near ready for so-called real life.
I said out loud, “Stop.”
Someone behind me asked, “Stop what?”
Wheeling around in my chair, I saw Beth standing there.
