Emma vs. The Tech Guy (8 page)

That’s how I remembered my mother. I’ve stared at that picture so many times, it felt like I was there. In a way, I was. She was about ten weeks pregnant and, according to my Pop, she would recite her poetry to me spontaneously whenever the mood hit her. That carefree, love-child aura was in such contrast to my own calculated and controlling ways, it saddened me that I wasn’t more like her. Maybe calculating was too harsh a word, but I didn’t do anything without thorough analysis first. I wondered if that would still be the case if she were here today.

Sorting out my feelings in regards to my parents had been challenging, to say the least. Putting on a brave face worked most of the time, but I hated myself for missing my mother more than my father. Howard said that was probably normal for any girl. Maybe it was because Mom left me so quickly, at such a young age. But Dad could have handled it better. He could have had more time with me if he’d wanted. But instead of trying to become the ultimate father to compensate me for losing my mother, he’d turned his back on the pain of reality. I was lucky that as Dad started to fade out of my life, Pop gradually took over. He was as good a father as anyone. He tried hard to make our life seem normal. But it’s not like a girl ever stops needing her mother.

It wasn’t unusual for me to go from elated to deflated in a matter of seconds. I guess memorable moments, like realizing a professional dream, lead to memories, which lead to my lack thereof, and the fact that my options for sharing news with loved ones were quite limited.

A reminder dinged and popped up on my screen, so I shook off the pity party for one and got back to my computer. At that point we hadn’t shared the new cover with the rest of the office, but I was dying to show it to Jayne. I resisted the urge, but I started to wonder if she was ever going to show her face. It wasn’t like her to pout for this long. In fact, it was more likely that she would have been waiting at my door with an apology.

All the work I’d done over the last few hours had sailed me right up to lunchtime, so I got up to see what Jayne was up to. When I entered her office, she turned to me with a red face and brows that were knotted together.

“God, are you still upset about yesterday?” I asked, standing in the doorway.

She shook her head. “No, honey. But I am really sorry about that. I didn’t mean to cause a problem with you and your … best friend.”

I stepped inside and walked over to her chair. “Hey, Jaynie girl. You’re my best friend too.” I meant it, but flinched at how high school that sounded. “Don’t you know that?”

“I guess so,” she answered.

“Then what’s wrong?”

“It’s gone.” She shrugged her shoulders and stared at the screensaver on her computer. No, it wasn’t a beach scene or cute puppies frolicking. Four young hotties in work overalls, minus the top half which hung down past their waists, stood carrying tools and smiles.
Those tight rippling pecks have to be airbrushed.

“What’s gone?” I asked after my moment of distraction subsided.

“My file. I worked on it for three hours. Did tons of research on it, too.” She looked up at me helplessly. “Bill wanted it, like, yesterday. I’ve tried everything.” She flopped down against the back of her chair and stared up at me with needy eyes. Unfortunately, Jayne didn’t have the same effect on Bill that I did. She found herself on the other end of his fury more than once.

“Don’t panic yet,” I said. I put on my determined, problem-solving face. “Let me take a look.”

We exchanged positions and I took her seat at the computer. As I began my own troubleshooting techniques, I asked, “Did you try Guy?”

“He’s not in the office today and Matthew is too busy.”

“All right, it’s okay. Let’s see … maybe ….” After a few more attempts I let out a frustrated sigh and shrugged. “Sorry, Jaynie.” Then I remembered what Guy had showed me on the server, only that was for emails. And it had been difficult to pay attention to what I was doing with him hovering over my shoulder. But there was one more option. “What about Marty?”

“I don’t know.” Jayne shook her head, then rubbed the side of her temples. “Since when has Marty ever done anything right?”

“I know, but he’s here today. And I don’t suppose the file can get any more lost, right?” I asked.

“I guess. Let’s get his sorry ass in here.”

I buzzed a couple of the offices where our freelancers hibernated until Marty picked up. I explained the situation in a needy tone that made me cringe and asked him to come to Jayne’s office. Then as though we’d beamed him up on the
Enterprise
, he materialized. Being replaced by Guy was probably hard to take even if he was relieved of the burden. Men need to feel needed. He stood in the doorway sporting his brown corduroy pants that scuffed the carpet as he walked and a cream-colored, button-down shirt. Tucked in with a belt, of course. Everything about him screamed old school. His hair, brown and bushy, wouldn’t behave if you paid it. The matching rug on his upper lip most certainly housed coffee residue with cinnamon specks from his morning donut.

“Thanks, Marty,” Jayne said.

I rose from Jayne’s seat. We both backed away, giving Marty room to get behind the desk.

“No problem,” Marty said. He pushed his brown-rimmed glasses farther up on his nose as he sat down. “I’ll see what I can do.”

As Marty tapped away at the keyboard, I peered over Jayne’s shoulder to see that she was sending a text to Guy. Guess she had as much faith in Marty as I did. But what other choice did we have but to give him a chance? And though I did have a way of taming the beast, I wasn’t up for facing Bill, either. He’d made it crystal clear that there were plenty of freelancers out there who could do our jobs without requiring him to pay benefits. Well, maybe not all of us.

“I really appreciate this, Marty,” Jayne said, then snarled her lip at me.

Jayne and I sneaked out to the lounge to get coffee, telling Marty we’d give him some peace to work.

“Okey-dokey,” he said. Not the first time we’ve heard that corny catchphrase. But it was one of many in his repertoire.

In the lounge Jayne and I stuffed our faces with mini-cheesecakes left over from a potluck lunch we’d had a week ago.

“Do you think these are still good?” I asked Jayne. Then I popped one in my mouth.

“Tastes fine to me,” she said, shrugging off a guilty smile.

Women didn’t pass up desserts in an office. It was the one place where calories didn’t count. Besides, we ordered salads to be delivered for lunch to make up for it.

“You know, if Marty pulls this off, we’re going to have to be nicer to him,” Jayne said.

“What?” Suddenly I worried that those cheesecake bites were bad after all. They were affecting Jayne’s judgment.

“He’s not that bad,” she said, sounding like she was trying to convince us both.

“I guess.” He was harmless enough, but sometimes he did give me the creeps. For the most part, he was quiet and shy. But there were times I wondered if he had bodies hidden in his basement. Isn’t it always the quiet ones?

Jayne took a plastic knife and cut the last mini-cheesecake in half, assuming I’d want it. I almost wished she would have jammed the thing in her mouth and saved me the guilt.

“This would really save my ass,” she said.

“I’m sure it will be fine.”

“Right. So if Marty restores my file, let’s really play it up, huh?”

My face scrunched up at the suggestion. “Play what up?”

“You know, make a big deal about it and thank him a bunch. Come on, it’ll be fun.”

My stomach twisted at the thought of it. Or maybe salmonella had already set in. I was beginning to wonder if Jayne had another fetish I hadn’t discovered yet. She was a little too excited about this role-playing idea. “Fun for him, yeah.”

Her half of the mini-cheesecake disappeared behind a smile, and she shoved mine in front of me. “Eat up!”

A few minutes later, Marty appeared in the doorway. “I think I may have it, ladies,” he said, brimming with excitement and pride. A quick head jerk to the side summoned us to follow him. “I need you to take a look, though, Jayne.”

We trailed our potential new hero back to Jayne’s office. I wondered for a moment if a salad was going to cut it after all of this excitement.

Jayne got back in the driver’s seat with captain Marty at the helm beside her. “Is that it?” he asked hopefully.

“I’m not sure.” Jayne scrolled through the text, stopping in places until she reached the end. “I think … yep. This is it! You did it, Marty!”

“Wow, nice work, Marty!” I patted him on the back, took a deep breath, and revealed my biggest smile. Since he’d never seen it before, I was sure it would make his day.

Jayne jumped up and gave him a warm hug, winking at me over his shoulder. We’d done our good deed for the day and were feeling pretty proud of ourselves, when Marty bolted for the door.

“What’s the hurry, man?” I asked. You’d think he’d want to revel in his glory for at least a few more minutes.

He stopped in the doorway, turned on his heel and said, “I can’t wait to call Guy and tell him the good news.” Then he was off, speed walking down the hall with his frayed corduroy pants dragging along the carpet.

“Can you believe that, Emma?”

I shook my head in suspended disbelief. “No, I can’t,” I said matter-of-factly. It was bad enough Jayne and the other women dropped at Guy’s feet. Now I had man crushes to deal with too?

“C’mon, Jaynie girl. Let’s go see if our salads are here.”

Chapter 9

“It’s not a date,” Pop said. He stared out the window as we backed out of the driveway and headed a block over to pick up Mrs. Elwood.

I glanced to the side to see him dry-washing his hands in his lap. “Don’t be nervous, Pop.”

“I’m not nervous,” he snapped. “For crying out loud, Emma Jean. We’re just taking her to a doctor’s appointment.”

“Yeah, and it was nice of you to offer my services,” I said.

“You know I would have done it.” His hands checked the buttons on his shirt.

“I know.” Pop was losing sight in his right eye and wasn’t allowed to renew his driver’s license. He didn’t spend too much time behind the wheel anyway, but my heart still ached a bit for how he must have been feeling. I can still remember when our seats were reversed, and he was teaching me to drive. “Offensive, yes. Mario Andretti, no,” he’d said before pulling over and giving me my shot. He’d held his tongue when I ground the gears and rolled over the trashcan when we got back home. I had shrugged a
sorry
to which he’d replied, “You’re learning, Emma Jean. And at least it wasn’t the neighbor’s cat.”

I pulled into Mrs. Elwood’s driveway and smiled at Pop for the loving memory he didn’t know he gave me.

“I was only teasing, Pop. I’m happy to do it.” I put the brake on and patted him on the shoulder. “Now go get your woman.”

He shot me a dirty look before getting out. When he returned a few minutes later, he trailed a nicely dressed Mrs. Elwood. The two walked at a snail’s pace. I wondered if my life would ever slow down. It would be a welcome change once in a while, but truthfully, I wasn’t quite ready to sit on park benches watching the squirrels pick through trash.

Pop held the door for his companion, making sure her long skirt didn’t catch in the door before closing it. Her hair was short but stylish for someone her age. She didn’t bother to dye the gray. I couldn’t even imagine.

When they were both in, Pop made formal introductions, though I was sure I’d seen her before. Probably at church or the senior center.

“Eddie’s told me so much about you,” Mrs. Elwood said, smiling at me in the mirror.

I loved the sound of the nickname and returned an even bigger smile back at her. Then I turned it in Pop’s direction, who shook his head in warning. I wasn’t about to say a word. The boys probably gave him enough crap as it was. Their reaction when she called during their poker night told me they would take full advantage.

“Well I’m glad we could all get together.”

“Yes, and when Eddie insisted on taking me to my appointment, he said you wouldn’t mind. I do appreciate that,” she said.

“It’s no trouble at all,” I said even as I thought it was the complete opposite. I had to get up extra early, work from home, and then drive to Pop’s house. Work really couldn’t have been any busier than it was right then. The trade show was days away, the redesign launch followed close behind, and my new BFF, Guy, still needed guidance, not to mention a watchful eye. I didn’t have time for much else.

But this was my Pop we were talking about. There wasn’t anything I wouldn’t do for him. For a long time all I did was take. He was my caregiver, financial supporter, shoulder to cry on, confidence builder, you name it. And he didn’t blame me or ever hold it against me. I guess he knew he was all I had. Even when my dad showed up between his truck-hauling jobs or latest flushing-money-down-the-toilet business schemes, it was all about him. Did Dad ask how yearbook committee was going, or if my heart had mended after David broke up with me for Kaitlyn? No, because he didn’t give a shit. At least that’s what I told myself because the alternative—that I was a painful reminder of his dead wife—was unbearable.

At the doctor’s office, Pop and I grabbed some coffee from a cart outside. I refrained from further teasing. He told me about Mrs. Elwood’s husband and how he’d died five years earlier of a heart attack. And how she was starting to get out to do things. Her daughter often took her to church and to the senior center activities.

“Thanks again,” he said as we walked back into the waiting room.

We sat down next to a ragged-looking woman holding a baby. A small boy slithered on the floor beneath her ankles as she attempted to jiggle her baby and talk on her Bluetooth.

I grinned and patted Pop’s knee. We didn’t always need words.

“Really, I know you’ve got a lot going on at work,” he added.

“Always do, don’t I?”

“When do you leave for Vegas?”

The hint of concern in his voice reminded me that Pop hated my traveling.

“Monday,” I said, nodding. Trying to think of something to reassure him I added, “Adam and Guy will be there too.”