There are so many people in the break room, so I go over to one of the empty cubicles to sit there.
Everyone is talking to each other. All I have for company is Morris as he purrs, pawing my face while he sits there on the cubicle desk in front of me, begging for some of my chicken salad.
Picking up my fork, I feed him some. The cat is so awesome that he knows how to eat off of a fork, something that I didn't train him to do, but he just picked up on.
“Look at all those bad habits you took from the house. You're spoiled, you know that?” I smile at him.
“Hey buddy,” Lincoln says, coming over. He picks up the cat, kissing him on the head and hugging him before placing him back down on the cubicle. Morris jumps down onto the ground and starts roaming around the department.
“Morris, don't go too far. I don't want you eating someone's papers and then we get in trouble,” I say. Morris answers me with a soft and so cute meow.
I take another bite of my chicken salad, closing my eyes softly as I relish the taste of the feta cheese in the salad. Still sitting, I look up at Lincoln, wondering what he wants.
“Why don't you come to the break room with me to have some lunch?” he asks with a smile.
“I'm already eating my lunch here.”
“You’re technically supposed to eat it in the break room,” he says.
“I'm almost done. I mean, I have half left, so…”
“Gabby. The CEO actually wants people to eat their lunch in the break room.”
Closing my eyes and inhaling, I rise, parking the cart. Snapping my fingers and making a swish noise with my mouth, I call for Morris, who comes bounding happily toward me on silent paws.
Naturally, the kitty follows Lincoln and me into the very large break room with a gigantic fridge.
There are several tables, and it almost feels like a mini restaurant. Now that I'm not so busy, and the people that were in here are now absent I can actually appreciate it.
Lincoln sits on one of the tables, not taken up.
“Wait, where is everyone? Aren't there like 50 people in this department or something?”
“The few that are here eat very fast, but the rest of them prefer to go out and get some air and get their food from outside. Or they take a nap in their car,” Lincoln informs me, biting into what looks like Chinese food.
When did he get that?
“I see. If they want to take a nap in their car, is that not going to cut down on the time they have to nap by having to walk all the way there and then back?” I ask.
“People are here so much, Gabby, that the very little bit of time that they have to be away from work, they treasure it. Seeing the outside and getting to enjoy the quiet of your car is a luxury for people in this department that work 16 hours on average almost every day.”
I nod at this, understanding.
My salad is almost finished, and the food that he's eating smells so good.
I pick at my salad. I hate it when I finish my food first and then I'm still hungry, watching someone else eat.
Lincoln's fork slips into my salad bowl, giving me a piece of his teriyaki chicken. I fight the urge to smile warmly, my heart feeling full.
My eyes find his. His face looks so soft, so kind, still filled with love. Smiling again softly, he puts half of his food in my bowl, scraping some of it straight in there.
“Lincoln, you need this more than I do.”
“No. I know you want it.”
“I didn't ask for it though.”
“Yeah, but I know you,” he says flatly, continuing to eat his much smaller portion, barely having left any for himself.
