Page 29 of Cava with My Colleague

By noon, the venue is clearing out. Jade is one of the last to leave the building, and I watch her walk out into the bright Zurich sunlight without a backward glance.

I should go after her. Apologize. Tell her I understand now, that I want to help.

But what would I even say? “I’m sorry I spent weeks making your panic attacks worse”? “I’m sorry I assumed the worst about you”?

I stand in the empty ballroom for a long moment, then pull out my phone and text Fernando.

Carlos

I think I’ve been an asshole.

Fernando

Just figuring that out now?

Carlos

It’s worse than you think.

Fernando

Tell me.

I stare at the screen, trying to figure out how to explain. Finally, I type:

Carlos

Remember when you asked why I didn’t want Jade on this tour? I thought she was unprofessional. Turns out she has severe stage fright and I’ve been criticizing her for symptoms of panic attacks.

The three dots appear, disappear, appear again. Then:

Fernando

So what are you going to do about it?

I don’t have an answer.

11

Carlos

* * *

Hours later, the cool waters of the river pour over my skin. I’m in one of the public swimming pools of the Limmat River, tucked by the trees across from the park, swimming stroke after stroke into the fast-moving water.

The river is crowded. On my walk, I passed dozens of people on the water floating on everything from stand-up paddle boards to hot dog and unicorn inflatables. This part, though, is roped off for swimmers only. If I concentrate, every time I lift my head out of the water to breathe, I can hear the sounds of music and the laughter of kids as they use the nearby rope swing to launch themselves into the center of the river.

The current is so strong that if I stop I’ll lose my prime spot, so I keep my strokes strong and steady.

My thoughts, though, are anything but.

It hadn’t occurred to me that Jade would be anxious over the presentations. I’ve never given much thought over the differences between small groups—where Jade clearly excels—or being up on stage in front of hundreds of people. My preference is the latter—small talk is forfeit when you’ve got a microphone—but I’m not most people.

God, it’s even the subject of jokes. Picture people naked, or pretend the audience isn’t there. Does Jade do any of those things? I put my foot in my mouth today, and I’m not going to ask her what she’s done to alleviate her anxiety, though I do know that I owe her an apology. I wonder if there’s anything I can do to make the presentations go smoother.

At the very least, I can be more understanding.

I cringe at the memory of telling her that the presentation was boring.