“I mean, c’mon, look around you. I’m working at a place dedicated to giving people another chance, whether it’s a second, third, or thirtieth chance. Of course I don’t exactly vibe well with the idea that a first impression is the only one you ever need,” I said as he sat down in his chair. His motions were stiff, and something clicked in my head. “Uh, personal question.”
“I didn’t realize we had connected so quickly that we’d moved onto personal questions already,” he said in a tight voice.
“Are you being a dick because you’re pissed at me or because you’re in pain that you’re trying to hide?” I asked.
Rowan was reaching for his cup, his fingers hesitating, and clicked his tongue. “It was my understanding that medical information was kept from Guides unless it involved a serious problem, like an allergy or epilepsy.”
“And you’d be right,” I said, crossing my arms and frowning. “I had a job for a year at a care home. We had a guy who was in constant pain, but acted like he wasn’t; he hated the idea that the people there to help him might actually want to help. So he moved like you just did, and he was one of the crankiest residents, which, ya know, fair. Pain isn’t fun.”
“Just a year?”
“Uh, yeah. I was driving over an hour to work there, and when they changed managers, they cut me down to forty hours a week. Those fifty to sixty-hour weeks were the only thing that justified the drive,” I said with a shrug. “So I left. I told them that wasn’t going to work for me, put in my two weeks, and started looking for work.”
“Common wisdom is to have a job lined up before you leave,” he said, sipping his coffee and wrinkling his nose.
“Yeah, well, I had a friend tell me once that wisdom was always chasing me, but I was usually running faster,” I said with a snort as I walked over to the coffee machine, sliding a new mug from the rack and starting a new cup. “I was kinda mad, but I couldn’t help but laugh.”
“Why?”
“Because it was true.”
“So you...laughed?”
“Yes, you do know what a sense of humor is, right?”
He narrowed his eyes. “I wouldn’t think a serious character flaw would be worth laughing over.”
I sighed. “You’re not the first person to wonder that, but for me, there are just some things in life that have to be laughed at. The only other option is to cry.”
“Or improve it,” he said, frowning as the machine beeped.
“If we were always ready to fix what’s wrong with us when we realize it, no one would need therapy or places like this,” I said as I brought the cup over and set it down, taking the coffee he’d had before and dumping it. “We would all be self-sufficient, self-actualized, healthy, happy little people who got through life without a care in the world and only minimal problems.”
“That is true, I suppose,” he said somewhat reluctantly, and I turned to find him frowning at the mug.
“Something wrong?” I asked.
“I could have made my own coffee,” he said stiffly.
“Yeah, and you’d have to get up and mess with the machine after you just sat down,” I said with a shrug. “Look, don’t start with the ‘I can do it myself, don’t pity me’ thing, alright? I did it because I wanted to.”
“You did it because you know I’m in pain.” He scowled.
“Thank you for admitting you’re in pain,” I said, smirking when his expression went blank. “And here’s a fun fact for you; people are pretty helpful by nature. Don’t get me wrong, we can be a selfish, bitter, sadistic species sometimes, and the shit we do to each other is horrifying. But your regular, everyday person is pretty normal, not awful. Flawed? Yeah, definitely, and they do things to hurt others by accident. But we’re fundamentally a helpful, caring species.”
“That’s optimistic,” he said, frowning. “And not my experience.”
“I know enough about you to know you work in business...generally speaking.”
“I...yes.”
“Right, well, that’s not considered a bastion of humanity’s kindness, selflessness, and compassion,” I said with a laugh. “We’re a social species. But no social species can survive, let alone thrive, if it doesn’t feel compelled to help. Did you know it wasn’t that long ago they thought ancient humans were just shy of animals? Uncaring, brutal...brutes.”
“I can’t say I did know that.”
“It’s true. Back when we were living in caves. The running theory was that we operated as groups, but it was still survival of the strongest, and the weak were left behind.”
“Are you alluding to the business world?”
