Yes, she knows exactly how not busy my social schedule is. “Stop acting like y-you don't work just as many hours as I do.” I kick her under the table. “Besides which, I have a thing to go to this weekend.”
“A thing?” Thea asks, archly. “What thing?”
Sasha, a gorgeous silver tabby that lives on the deck, weaves her way through the tables toward us. I lean down, stretching out my fingers toward her, hoping she will let me pet her. She doesn't.
“A fundraising thing.” When they pin me with identical, curious stares, I elaborate, explaining that Keegan needs me to go to the gala with him to act as a buffer between him and his family.
I try to keep the details to a minimum because Thea is a self-proclaimed romantic and refuses to believe my friendship is only that.
“So,” she says before pausing dramatically to sip. “You have a big presentation on Monday and a date with Keegan on Saturday.”
“It's not a date,” I counter. “I'm just attending an event with him. As a favor.”
“Hmm,” she murmurs noncommittally, her eyes gleaming with a cunning that would make a military strategist proud.
Reb jumps in before Thea can ambush me. “But the presentation is what's important. This is her career at stake.” She looks back at me. “And Teresa took off work for the rest of the week?”
“Yes.”
“Remind me again why someone else can't present for you?” Thea asks, as Sasha the cat saunters over to Thea's chair and stretches to put her paws on Thea's knee.
Thea barely glances down at the cat before giving her leg a pat. Like the traitor she is, Sasha leaps onto Thea's lap, shooting me a disdainful look.
Before I can answer, Reb holds up her hand. “I got this one.” She twists on the sofa to face Thea.
“'Cause if she can do this presentation, it'll be good for her career and her confidence. Plus, she'll prove to herself that she can ditch Teresa, head up her own team, and generally look like a genius. Of course, if she fails, they could lose the account.” Shaking her head, she turns back to me. “Which wouldn't be good for your career in today's market.”
“Th-thanks, Reb, for your obvious faith in my abilities.”
“No problem.”
I stick out my tongue at her. She shoots me the finger playfully.
We pause as the waitress delivers our food. Hung Out to Dry has a limited, seasonal menu packed with locally sourced ingredients. They always have a few taco options, a few salad options, and some vegan options. Once I have a few bites of taco in me, I feel better.
Thea issues a thoughtful, “Hmm,” staring into the near distance thoughtfully as she strokes a hand down Sasha's back, ignoring me and Reb.
I can't help but resent that Sasha has settled onto Thea's lap. All these years I've been coming here and Sasha barely tolerates me. Of course, that's a step up from how she treats everyone else.
Reb takes another gulp of her latte. “What I don't get is why you're so afraid of freezing up during the presentation.”
“Because of my stu—”
“Right. Your stutter. But what's the big deal, really? So you stutter. As long as you don't freeze up completely—”
“But I do freeze up. All the time.”
“Not all the time.” Thea interrupts. “I see you talking to strangers all the time at volunteer events.”
Thea, who believes the key to staying young is being active and giving back, lets me drag her along to all kinds of events—everything from planting community gardens to cleaning up the local hiking trails.
“You recruit anyone who shows up. Yes, sometimes you stutter while you're talking with them. But you never freeze up.”
Reb—who has only come with me a few times—jabs a finger in my direction. “She's right. I once saw you convince a group of high school volunteers that composting was cool. Composting! Why is this situation at work any different?”
“It just is.” I open and close my mouth, searching for words, for an explanation I don't have.
When I'm volunteering, it's not about me. It's about the cause. It's about restoring the black land prairie or cleaning up Waller Creek. I'm not the center of attention.
