Page 2 of One Little Favor
Mom
Everything’s fine.
I try to make sense of the “call me as soon as you can ... everything’s fine” mixed signals. Normally Mom’s “call me as soon as you can” messages mean something bad has happened with Dad. That doesn’t seem to be the case now, but I’m still nervous as I watch the floors tick by as we fly up to the thirty-seventh floor.
I make my way back to my desk, which is at the far end of the floor, right outside Tom’s corner office. I would have a nice view out the window behind me, but since my desk faces away from it, with his office door to my right and a small sitting area across from it, I never really got to enjoy it—until I redecorated the space.
I painted the alcove across from me a deep forest green, got two modern chairs and a small marble table to sit between them, and had maintenance hang a chandelier above them. Then I hung a giant mirror on the wall above the two chairs so that I could see the view behind me reflected in it. The best part was that I convinced Tom we needed to make the space more welcoming for his clients, so he paid for everything.
Before I can even set my bags down on my desk, my phone pings with another message.
Mitzi
That skirt is a little short for work, don’t you think?
I sigh, and release a string of swears in my head. Mitzi, our director of Human Resources, who never once noticed me in the two years I worked here before becoming Tom’s executive assistant, has been hypercritical of me over the past year. I’m not sure what I’ve done to offend her, but I feel like I’m constantly walking on eggshells.
Today’s skirt hits mid-thigh, but I’ve paired it with opaque black tights. It doesn’t cling to me—something she’s commented on before—nor is it that short. There is absolutely nothing unprofessional about what I’m wearing.
I glance at the sticky note Tom has left me on my monitor—his preferred method of communication for prioritizing what he wants me to take care of when I’m back in the office. After hanging my coat in the closet next to my desk, I choose to ignore Mitzi’s text and Tom’s requests for another few minutes, and settle in and pick up the phone.
I take my sweater off as I wait for my mom to answer her phone, making a mental note to check in with maintenanceagainand find out when the heat will be fixed. It’s been blasting for days, and it’s at least ten degrees warmer in here than it should be.
“Hey, honey,” my mom says when she answers. “Sorry to bother you when you’re working.”
“No problem, what’s up?” I roll up my shirt sleeves as we talk, half my mind on what she’s going to say, and half on the sticky note in my hand.
“Well, I have some good news, but it’s also kind of bad news.”
How is that possible?
“Okay ...”
“So a while back I entered this giveaway for disabled law enforcement veterans,” she says, her voice a mixture of excitement and nerves. “And this morning I found out that we won a six-night cruise of the Eastern Caribbean.”
“That’s amazing, Mom! How is that bad news?”
“It leaves on Sunday. We’d be gone all next week, over Christmas.”
My breath leaves me in a deflated whoosh.Oh.
“Oh. Okay.” I swallow and hope she can’t hear the gulping sound. “No problem. That sounds like an amazing vacation.”
“But, honey, we’ve nevernotspent Christmas together.”
I try not to remember Christmas two years ago, which Mom and I spent at Dad’s bedside in the ICU after a domestic violence call had the perpetrator turning his gun on the police. Even though Dad has mostly physically recovered, he’s not the same man now as the one who raised me.
“I know, Mom,” I say, right as my friend Taryn, who used to sit next to me when we were both in the admin pool for the junior associates, rounds the corner. “But I think you and Dad could really use a vacation like this. Especially right now. You know how much the cold bothers Dad’s leg. Getting him out of here for a week would be a great thing for him.”
Mom’s sigh is heavy. “I know. But I wish we could bring you too. I tried rescheduling for a different week, and when that wasn’t possible, I asked about getting a stateroom with a pull-out bed, but that wasn’t available on such short notice.”
My whole body shrinks back into my chair as I cringe at the thought of having to share a tiny room on a cruise ship with my parents, especially with the way my dad snores. Taryn’s eyebrows shoot up as she takes in my reaction.
“It’s okay, Mom. We’ll do Christmas when you guys get back.”
Taryn’s lips turn down at the corners, and she lifts her hands in awhat’s going ongesture.I’ll explain, I mouth to her. Thank God she’s here. I’m going to need a friend to convince me that spending Christmas alone will be fine.
“But then you’ll already be back to work. I know you took a few days off next week to spend with us, and I feel terrible about you wasting your vacation days for no reason.” Her voice is so full of sympathy and sadness.
