It's been two months since I returned home to Chicago.
That first week, I would burst into tears at the drop of a hat. I cried myself to sleep every night. I wasn't crying as much these days, but I still thought of Butch often and it made me miserable.
Jen called me regularly to make sure I was okay. I know she's worried about me. If I didn't have her to talk to, I don't know what I would do.
Butch and I talked on the phone a few times, but it was awkward. I loved hearing his voice, but it really hurt being apart from him. It seemed like every time we talked, one of us would eventually end up getting upset or frustrated. It's been a couple of weeks since we last talked. It feels like we're drifting apart and that just makes it worse.
I haven't spoken to my dad since that morning we returned home. Mom would call to check on me once a week like usual, but it felt like she didn't really care about anything I had to say. It was just for appearances.
So here I was on a Thursday morning sitting on the couch eating a bowl of cereal. My dog, Rocky, laid down next to me with his chin on my thigh. I swear that he could tell that there was something wrong with me. He was much more calm around me than he normally was and he was always cuddling up on me.
Rocky is a three year old miniature schnauzer. He's all black with natural ears and a docked tail. He has a long beard and bushy eyebrows and is groomed in a typical schnauzer cut, complete with a skirt of hair around his belly. He's my little guy and I love him to death.
After I gave Rocky kisses on top of his head, I put him up in his crate and headed in to work. I've been having a rough time at work. I found that I was impatient with the employees and I wasn't paying attention to what I was doing or what people were saying. My mind was distracted and thinking of Butch.
At lunch, I headed out and walked a couple of blocks towards my favorite deli. I saw my Dad walking out of a fancy restaurant with a young blond bimbo. They were headed my way, presumably towards my Dad's office, which was in a high-rise a couple of blocks from where I worked. I thought for a second about turning and walking the other way, but instead I decided to keep going. Dad had his hand on her back and she was giggling and flipping her hair. He was so caught up in his tramp that he didn't even see me approaching.
"Dad," I said as I got right up to them and stopped.
"Philip," Dad said, looking a little flustered. "This is, uh, Mary. She and her husband are clients of mine. Mary, this is my son, Philip Junior."
Nice. Dad is a defense attorney and makes his living representing criminals with deep pockets. I'm sure his client would be happy to know that Dad's banging his wife while he sits in jail or whatever.
"It's nice to meet you, Philip Junior," she said with an embarrassed smile.
God, it's bad enough that I'm Philip Junior, but I absolutely hate it when people address me as 'Philip Junior' as if that's my name.
I tilted my head and regarded her. "Actually, we met about four months ago, didn't we? You and Dad outside the hotel over there?"
"No, I don't think so," she said. "That wasn't me."
"Oh, right. Who can keep track? Anyway, it was good seeing you. Bye, Dad."
Dad shot me a look that spoke volumes. An evil little grin spread across my face as I resumed walking. I'm sure I would suffer for it later, but it felt really good to see Dad so pissed off. It got my mind off Butch for a little bit at least.
Butch.
I hadn't been back at work long when I got a call on the help desk line from one of the executive vice presidents who was having trouble printing. I made my way to his office. I sat down at his desk and I realized that his problem was the same problem that Butch had. Then to compound the fact, he wasn't connected to the network so I couldn't open his mapped P drive to get the drivers. Crap. That wasn't the problem. He wasn't connected to the network. Wait a minute. Shit. What was I doing?
The man was hovering over my shoulder, pointing at the screen. "None of those work."
I started to get flustered and annoyed.
"I got it," I snapped. "Just give me some room."
He straightened up his posture stiffened.
I started to backtrack. "I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to--"
"Yeahhh.... Why don't we get someone else to look at this."
I opened my mouth to speak and then my eyes started to tear up. I got up from his desk and hurried out of his office. I stopped in the restroom and splashed my face with water and blew my nose. By the time I got back to my cubicle, my boss Jonas was already there waiting for me. I let out a deep breath and followed him into his office and he shut the door behind me.
"Look, PJ," Jonas said. "Ever since you came back from your grandmother's funeral, you haven't been yourself. You're making mistakes and your work is suffering. You're a good employee. One of my best. But if something doesn't change... Look. Why don't you take a week off? Get yourself together. Go talk to someone if you need to."
I stared at him blankly, trying to process what he was saying.
"I'm not asking," he said. "I'm telling. Go home. I'll see you Monday after next."
I stood up and nodded. "Yes, sir," I said quietly.
I walked to the door and stopped and turned around. I knew what I needed to do.
"Can I have two weeks, Jonas? I have a lot of vacation saved up... and, uh..."
"Fine. But when you come back, I expect a complete turnaround. I've convinced them to give you this one chance, PJ. Don't let make me regret it. Understand?"
"Yes, sir. Thank you."
I walked back to my cubicle and shut down my computer and turned off the cube lights. I pulled my Blackberry out of my pocket and turned it off and left it on my desk.
***
On my way home, I made a quick stop at the AT&T store and bought a new iPhone. The process took a little longer than I would have liked, but I was glad to be rid of my work phone, for a couple of weeks anyway.
When I got home, I let Rocky out of his crate. He jumped up on my legs and I bent down and scratched on his head and under his beard, then took him downstairs to go potty.
After Rocky finished his business in the courtyard, I went up to my bedroom and pulled my work clothes off and put on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. I pulled my boots from the closet and pulled them on.
Rocky jumped onto my bed and laid down, his legs pointed backwards and his chin resting on his front legs. He watched me as I pulled my two suitcases from the closet. I packed a couple weeks worth of clothes into the suitcases. I grabbed my backpack with my laptop. I poured Rocky's food into a big plastic container and filled a two liter bottle with water from the fridge.
I put everything into the back of my navy blue Saturn Vue hybrid SUV. I folded up Rocky's kennel crate and put that in the back as well.
I opened the SUV's back driver's door and Rocky bounced up into the back seat. I laid out his blanket for him and gave him his squeaky stuffed bunny.
"Here's your baby, Rock," I said.
He took the bunny in his mouth and proceeded to squeak it over and over in rapid fire succession.
"If you're gonna do that the whole trip, I'm gonna throw it out the window," I told him with a chuckle and I tickled him under his beard.
I pulled the camouflage cap Butch gave me onto my head and before long, we were headed south on I-65.
When we got to Nashville, I stopped at a Subway and got a sandwich and Coke to go. I checked into a motel that allowed pets and Rocky and I settled in for the night. I put out a bowl of food and water for Rocky and I ate my sub while sitting on the bed watching TV.
After we finished eating our dinner, I took Rocky outside to potty.
I turned off the TV and the lights and got into bed. Rocky jumped up onto the bed and curled up into a ball next to me.
As I laid in the strange bed listening to the hum of the window unit's fan, I hoped that I wasn't making a mistake. I have never ever done anything this impulsive in my life.
