Hey everyone celebrate Thanksgiving two weeks late! I'm praying I can get the next to chapters out before the end of the year.
"Ryan, we definitely killed it in there, right?" Emma asked, grinning madly.
"Fuck yeah we did," Ryan replied
As soon as they left Framewick's conference room, she and Ryan lost their composure. They had flown in from Chicago and spent the last couple of days in Downtown L.A, prepping for this meeting. The word 'cloud optimization' had been seared in Emma's brain. Now it was over and she could enjoy some time off.
"You were awesome in there -- great call about pushing virtual servers."
Emma smiled. She knew Ryan had asked senior management about her specifically to join him in California. As a junior cloud analyst at Aegis One, she didn't get noticed that much compared to her male colleagues. Ryan, a young executive, needed support on a small project during the week leading up to Fourth of July. Emma being the only one around helped him and from there he would come directly to her.
"Yeah, I thought Paula was about to start dancing when she saw the drop in overheads." Emma then glanced at her watch; it had just gone past noon. She looked up and asked, "So, what's next?"
"We get drunk. The lawyers do their part. Then bonuses." Ryan grinned.
They walked through Framewick's mazy corridors, ending at the elevators near the receptionist's desk.
Emma looked at her watch again. "So, what time's your flight back?" She then asked.
"I'm going to stick around," Ryan replied, distracted. Paula's cute associate, a young blonde with a pixie hair cut walked past and gave him a smirk.
When she turned down the corridor and disappeared, Ryan looked back at Emma and said, "You should stick around too. Enjoy the weather."
Emma rolled her eyes but then smirked. "I can't... I got my flight in a couple of hours."
"Come on, you can rearrange it for Wednesday. We can have some drinks. There's some clubs I know you're going to love. We do need to celebrate."
"I really want to be home for Thanksgiving."
"It's Monday. Maybe we can meet some girls. You can forget about what's-her-name."
Emma shook her head. It was too early for her to be thinking about casual sex. That's what she was telling herself. Emma knew she still wanted to keep Lisa and the fantasy in the background of her mind. She couldn't lose that through a Tinder hookup.
"Wow. I don't really want to subscribe to your casual sex Thanksgiving. For me it's helping my mom with making pies. Getting up early to watch the parade. Then board games."
Ryan huffed. "That sounds really Norman Rockwell. You're drunk for most of it, right?"
Emma's mouth dropped. "God no."
"Come to my house for the holidays, you'd need to be." Ryan smirked.
"Really?"
"You got my mom yelling at my sister for nearly punching my aunt who is deadnaming my cousin. My other aunt is in the corner, making snide comments because we won't go to her house for Thanksgiving. My dad is completely drunk for the whole thing. And my uncle likes to bring younger and younger women who sell crystals. He hates all the New Age shit but loves the sex. For me to ride this dysfunctional wave is to come in late, get high as fuck, and say nothing."
The elevator doors opened and Emma walked in. She turned and said, "I'm sorry you have a... Thanksgiving of the Bear, but I do like mine and I really want to be home early."
"Don't worry, when everyone starts throwing forks, I get out of there and get super drunk with my sister and my cousin."
The elevator was beginning to close but Ryan stopped it. "But seriously, you saved my ass. I'm going to talk to Bill and get rid of that stupid 'Junior' title."
"Thanks," Emma said, blushing.
"Hope you enjoy the holidays."
"You too." Emma replied.
Just as the door closed, she saw the cute associate walk past and Ryan immediately followed.
***
Emma checked the bathroom, then the closet and finally around the bed. If she left something behind in the hotel room, like some jewelry or a charger, she would obsess over it for the next few days. Closing her suitcase, Emma observed the room. Clean.
She grabbed her phone and saw she missed a couple of messages. One was from her mom, asking what time she was landing in Chicago. 'Early morning,' Emma wrote her back, saying that she would land in O'Hara just after midnight, take an Uber home, sleep for a while, then drive to Woodstock. She added that she couldn't wait.
There was also a message from Ryan. He was in a bar, two blocks from the hotel. The cute associate was with him and so was Paula. Also, someone from Woodstock. He told her to come. Repeating that it was only two blocks away.
Emma sighed. She knew she had time for one drink. Also, she should go and get more face time with a major client. For the last couple of weeks, Ryan had been hammering one point, networking.
Sighing, Emma replied back, saying she would be there in ten.
Fifteen minutes later, Emma found Ryan getting another round of drinks. He was still wearing his light blue suit. She guessed he and the others went straight to the bar from Framewick's headquarters. He beamed when he saw her walk in, ordering her a violet gin cocktail. She didn't know how Ryan knew that was her favorite, maybe he was just good like that.
"Thanks," Emma said after he handed her the glass. "So, who's this fellow Woodstock... person?"
"I love it when you use language. Actually, she said she went to high school with you. She knows Molly from college."
"Really?"
Emma's breath caught and she froze. In the booth, Quinn Polinski sat between Paula and Molly. They didn't just go to high school together, but also to middle school too. And through most of that, Quinn made Emma's life a living hell. It started small, just teasing about her name, making fun of her clothes, or just ignoring her. But that was all before Emma came out and then it got really bad.
Emma wanted to run away, but seeing everyone look at her, she sat down. One drink, that's all she needed to get through. She would finish, take a cab to the airport, and email her therapist on the way, feeling like she needed a longer session than normal.
Tightening her face, Emma said, "Hi Quinn. It's good to see you...again."
She hadn't changed since high school. Still unbelievably striking. Quinn possessed captivating piercing blue eyes, flowing dark blonde hair, and an oval face with a well-defined jawline. She was dressed professionally, wearing a beige blazer and a black low-cut top.
Quinn smiled. "It's great to see you again!"
She sounded so warm and welcoming. Emma's eyes widened. The last time she saw Quinn, it was graduation and Emma had been given her diploma. Just walking back, she could see Quinn with this seething rage. This had to be an act.
She turned and looked at the table, telling them all that they went to high school together.
Paula smiled, saying that's nice. "Were you close friends?"
"No," Emma replied, her voice barely a whisper. She took a big swig of gin and fixed another smile.
"We weren't really friends," Quinn added, smiling at Emma. "But we kinda knew each other. We went to the same middle school and high school."
Fuck that smile.
Paula stood up to take a call and Ryan was focused on Molly, his arm leaning across the booth. She was giggling at his stories. Emma was trapped with Quinn. Her chest tightened, and her palms were getting sweaty. She needed to get out.
Emma said sorry and rushed to the restroom. Yes! It was empty. She gripped the edges of the sink, staring at her reflection. Her heart pounded. She needed to control that first. Emma loudly breathed in and out, closing her eyes, waiting to calm down.
She glanced at the white porcelain sink, the paper towel dispenser on the wall, the wooden door of the bathroom stall, the glass vase filled with flowers on the counter, and a print of Marilyn Monroe. She groaned, feeling the cold, smooth sink under her hands, the soft fabric of her dress brushing against her legs, the strands of her red hair tickling her cheeks, and the solid floor beneath her feet.
Emma closed her eyes again. Hearing the hum of the ventilation fan, the buzzing of the fluorescent lights, and muffled laughter outside. She sniffed, detecting the floral scent from the flowers and the orangey chemical smell of the soap. Opening her eyes, Emma rolled her tongue around her mouth, still tasting the violet gin.
She felt calm now.
But still Emma didn't want to see Quinn anymore. She messaged Ryan, saying the hotel called her and that she had left her driver's license. It was an obvious lie and maybe he might just accept it, but Emma knew she had to get out.
Straightening her hair, she snuck out of the bar.
***
Emma covered her mouth, stifling a moan at the horde of frustrated flyers. Kids were screaming, overworked ticket agents were yelling at each other and drunk men in expensive suits lying down for a nap. She collared a drained Delta worker and found that a massive snowstorm had hit Chicago, taking out most of Illinois, Wisconsin, Indiana, and Michigan from air travel.
She was told to wait and that's what she did.
After calling home, Emma pulled out her laptop and do some work. She responded to a few emails and Slack messages, then looked at some code. But it wasn't enough. She was supposed to be in holiday mode and with every task on screen, Emma knew she could deal with it next week. Putting away her laptop, she listened to a couple of episodes of Drifting Off with Joe Pera.
But nothing happened. She was back in high school, opening her locker and seeing a note, calling her a disgusting dyke. Emma tried to rise above it at first, but Quinn made another move. She would demand that Emma couldn't be in the locker room at the same time, saying her hormones would take over. And when she would see Emma in the hall, Quinn would call her every slur that she could think of. There some that Emma swore were made up.
