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“Well, some are more innocent—they assume you just bumped into one another and hit it off. Others suspect it was more calculated, that you somehow figured out a way that you could meet and seduce him—their words, not mine—and then…” Gretchen fell silent.
“And then what?” I prompted.
“Oh, but it’s just gossip is all! Nothing to worry about—”
“And then what?” I repeated, my tone sterner than before.
Gretchen sighed. “And then… some think that you slept with him for his money. That you’re…” she paused, then finished, almost in a whisper, “a prostitute.”
I felt overcome, suddenly, by a whirlwind of emotions: fury, shock, disgust, shame. But most of all, I felt fearful. Not for my reputation, but my safety. This was a small town, if somebody had a problem with me, and wanted to find me, they would know just where to look. And what was worse, I was living with my parents now. With my parents and my daughter, my beloved Sophie. What if somebody did something to them, what if their safety was compromised now? What then?
“It’s just gossip,” Gretchen repeated, noticing at last how affected I was by the revelation. “I promise, it’ll all blow over in no time. Oh, honey, don’t cry. I’m here for you, okay?”
I nodded, wiping from my face the tears I hadn’t even realized were falling. “Thanks, Gretch, thanks for letting me know.”
“Morning, Gretchen!” came a voice from behind me.
Gretchen looked behind me and, on seeing who had addressed her, immediately tensed up. “Good… good morning, Anastasia,” she returned, shooting me a sympathetic look.
Anastasia paused a few feet from me. “Natalie,” she said indifferently. Then, under her breath, spoke to Gretchen. “Look what the cat dragged in…”
“Don’t be a bitch, Anastasia,” Gretchen snapped before I had a chance to defend myself. I felt pride and shame, simultaneously. I was proud that I had people who stood up for me; I was ashamed that they fought my battles for me.
Anastasia’s eyes widened in shock. Then, after composing herself, she walked wordlessly away, not once turning to acknowledge my presence.
I thought things would get better, and with Gretchen’s words to comfort me, I held my head high. I approached the locker room, noticing it was abuzz with chatter. But the moment I stepped in, and my presence was registered, the whole room fell silent. There were five other women in there with me, and I could hear each of them holding their breath as they changed into their scrubs; I could even feel their eyes on my back, burning through me like rays of scalding heat. I said nothing, and neither did they. Then as they left the locker room together, and all at the exact same time, I heard them turn the corner and immediately begin whispering, giggling indiscreetly among themselves.
I contemplated running out and confronting them but decided against it.It’s just gossip;it’ll be over soon.
And, for a few hours, I believed it. I worked closely with Dr. Elyaszadeh, who treated me the same as always, and for a moment almost forgot about all the rumors. It was the first time I stopped to consider what Gretchen had told me: Lucas, heir to a major company I’d never heard of, one of the richest men in the country, and, apparently, a local celebrity. I smiled to myself, happy to have stumbled into something like this; it was a welcome change of fortune.
But then it was my lunch break, and as I returned to the locker room to grab my food, I noticed a handful of my co-workers (among them Anastasia) stepping out, giggling loudly to one another. Then they saw me, and as if on cue they all fell silent, one of them looking terrified. I almost laughed out loud—what could she possibly have to be afraid of? But then I passed them, nodding respectfully, and reached my locker just as their laughter resumed, louder than before. When I saw what they had done, I almost screamed.
Gold digger, they had written in lipstick on my locker.
Whore, just beneath it.
Slut.
Hooker.
Prostitute.
There were more words written, but I had to stop reading; my stomach was in knots, and the tears were blurring my vision. I forced the locker open, grabbed my belongings, and stormed out of the room, down the stairs, and across the reception.
“Natalie, what happened?” Gretchen called out. “Natalie!”
“Tell Renee I quit,” I said, without looking back. And I was out the door.
Just then my phone buzzed, but I couldn’t bring myself to check it until the hospital was out of sight. I had no doubt I had done the right thing, that leaving was the right decision, but at what cost? My job at the hospital paid the most, more than the dog-walking and the waitressing combined. I was living with my parents, which took some of the burden off, but what about Sophie? I knew my parents were struggling to sustain themselves as it was, I couldn’t put this added pressure on them, not now.What am I going to do?
Just then my phone buzzed again. I pulled out my phone to see I had two texts from Lucas.
Hey Natalie, I’m dropping Johann off at the airport tonight, around 7. He’s obsessed with you—and a huge fan of your work! :)
I should be home around 8:30—want to come over?
I felt a sudden surge of contempt, before realizing my feelings were misplaced. The rumors had stemmed from my relationship to Lucas, but he hadn’t started them, he had done nothing to fuel them. He had withheld information about his identity, but that was a different story—I was sure he had his reasons for doing so.
