*To make everyone your friend you must first bury a bunch of bodies*
*
(This is for everyone who kept at me to work on this story; those who begged, pleaded, cajoled, requested, and that rare one who threatened to reach through the internet and beat me so badly my ancestor, who came across on the Mayflower [yes, I do have a Mayflower ancestor], would jump into the Atlantic to spare me the agony. I love you all and you are better than I deserve.)
(Wednesday, one week later)
"Mr. Duarte, you have a lunch appointment today at Cabaros -- noon," Leslie tells me. She'd lean into my office space to say hello and deliver the message.
"Sure thing," I respond. Sadri gives me a look so I shrug. When Leslie departs, Sadri cracks a grin.
"What? No e-mail in her part of the world?"
"I think this meeting is off the books," I sigh.
"You can always tell her to stuff it," Sadri offers. "She's made you pretty miserable and it isn't like she's been doing you any favors recently." She means Gloria of course.
"Saying it is complicated is like calling our work load as a tad intensive," I grin back.
"Don't worry; I won't rent the sofa out just in case," she teases me.
"Thanks. I doubt I'll be leaving soon. I don't even know what she wants to discuss," I admit.
"Let me know when to send out the search parties," she taunts me one more time before work summons us.
I walk into the restaurant with my insides burning as if I'd swallowed a bag full of razor blades. I've almost convinced myself that this is a doomed course of action when I see her. Gloria Hardison is staring at me with an intensity that convinces me she's been waiting for me to walk through that door all day. I approach cautiously and sit down in the chair opposite her because now her look makes me think I can win; not the war, but this battle.
"Hello Mrs. Hardison," I say carefully.
"Good afternoon Eddie," she responds in an equally guarded manner.
"It is good to see you," I add. It really, really is true.
"I have been thinking about you," she replies.
"Ditto ... a lot."
"It hasn't impacted your work," she notes.
"I still want you to be proud of me and worthy of the trust you put in me," I confess. She doesn't respond to that immediately. Instead we order food and drink and wait numbly for the meal to arrive.
"I will never forgive you," she mutters when we are almost finished.
"I understand that. I can't forgive myself," I tell her. What I can't forgive myself for is using her secret against her. I still feel hurting her like she hurt me was my only option besides walking away.
"Stop being so damn reasonable Eddie," she snaps. A fight will give her an excuse to run away from our relationship and lay the total blame on me. I'm not falling for that trap.
"I tried irrational and that really fucked things up," I relate.
"Still joking?" she accuses me bitterly.
"If I couldn't laugh I'd probably walk into traffic," I explain. She seems to think that over.
"Why don't you?" she hammers me with her eyes.
"That would be selfish; I have two more lives to think about now," I answer. "I can't be that goofy college kid anymore; I don't have the luxury." Telling her I think she's being selfish will only hurt the three of us.
"We don't need you," she states.
"You don't get to make that call," I bite back. It is time to fight; I won't surrender my principles on this matter -- I am not going to budge on this. Gloria glares at me.
"This was a mistake," she growls.
"If you say so," I shrug. "I wasn't expecting much from you. You have much to be pissed about and I'm not sure the morning sickness has made things easier for you."
"I'll put you on the birth certificate but you have to promise me that if we split up I get majority custody," Gloria surprisingly offers. I have to mull that over until the underlying implication hits me. She's not only made the first step (our child) but the second one as well (our home).
"You said 'if we split up'?" I question. "That suggests that we will get back together."
"Yes it does," she nods.
"I promise you that if something happens I'll settle for visitation rights," I tell her. "I'll never try to take our child away from you and I'll sign whatever you need to make you sure of that fact."
"Very well," she allows. "The morning sickness is still horrible and...I miss someone helping me hold my hair out of the way."
"I can take care of that for you," I offer. She nods, takes a few bites but remains silent.
"Where have you been staying?" she redirects into the lack of conversation.
"With Sidra," I respond. She shows no chink in her outer calm.
"I thought a different co-worker would have been more convenient," she muses but what she was really saying is 'why a female co-worker?'
"Quite frankly we work together so much we are practically living in each other's boots. I know more about her life than her Mother does. Also, the last thing I need right now is some guy dragging a date home at two in the morning while I'm trying to sleep," I explain. "She isn't seeing anyone and knows enough about my situation to not pry, which is a big plus."
"She has become a far more effective employee since she's been working with you," Gloria observes.
"You handpicked her for the project Gloria and for good or ill it is your leadership that gets things done," I counter.
"You still drive me crazy Eddie," she grumbles.
"That's fair," I confess. "It makes me crazy being separated from you."
"No, those are two opposite forces tearing us apart," Gloria glares angrily.
"Oxygen and Hydrogen, by themselves, are explosive forces but together they create water, the wellspring of life," I try to make my point.
"That response seems far more thought out than normal," she notes.
"I'm trying to be more careful since we are actually taking face-to-face," I nod.
