Chapter 4 Lily
“Good morning!”
“Lily, we have two mediations to get through this morning.”
I don’t work when I’m off, so I haven’t had a chance to look at my calendar. I was going to do that when I got into my office. Seems there’s no need when my boss is my walking calendar.
“Okay, let me get my stuff set down, and I’ll read the paperwork.”
She pulls some papers out of her bag and thrusts them at me. “I printed it out. One is at 8:30 and the other is at 9. And we have a departmental meeting at 9:30.”
I have thirty minutes?
I press my lips together and nod. She’s not going to let me get a word in.
“Great! I’ll see you at 9:30.”
The best part of this job is the view from my office. Lark Hill Park is right outside my window. I get to see people jogging, all the plants and flowers, and the occasional animal out when no one else is around.
Everything else can go. Especially Jacquetta Matthews.
The first file is for Lacey and Shannon. Lacey’s been here before with a few other coworkers. She loves a grievance. She doesn’t need HR so much as she needs a therapist.
“Thank you for coming in. I’m Lily. My goal is to understand both of your concerns and find a resolution both of you are happy with. I will listen, take note, ask questions, and hopefully find the root of the issue you’re having.”
We sit at the small round table in my office. I make eye contact with each woman before continuing.
“So, from the statement I received, Lacey, you’re feeling like Shannon bypassed you on the Peterson project. Is that correct?”
“I was bypassed. Shannon emailed me once, on the day I was out of the office. And then she finished the whole thing without my input. I had a whole report done and a lot to contribute. Now my name is on her mediocre work.” She sits back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest.
Okay.
When I first started in HR, everyone could read my emotions on my face. Neutral facial expressions come naturally to me now. I have to turn them off when I’m not at work. They came in handy too.
I blink that thought away and turn to Shannon.
“First of all, Peterson loved all of the ideas in the presentation. ‘Mediocre’ made us money. So, you’re welcome.
Second, this was an urgent assignment. And I don’t like to wait.
I didn’t know you were off the day I emailed you.
I waited a few hours for a response. When you didn’t respond, I got it done. ”
I look between the two women. “Have either of you shared this information with the other?”
“I don’t talk to Lacey like that.” Shannon frowns and shrugs.
I look at Lacey. She shakes her head.
“So you both assumed the other knew all of this?”
They’re both silent.
“So, what I’m hearing is a breakdown of communication. Lacey, vacation responders help so much with letting people know you’re out. It’s not just for when you’ll be gone for two weeks.”
Lacey looks away, and Shannon grins.
“A follow-up email is professional courtesy too, Shannon. If you’re on a team, the team needs to be included.”
That grin falls off Shannon’s face. Both sides usually have some blame in these types of situations. It just takes an outside source (me) to point it out.
“Congratulations on pleasing Peterson. Even if one person did the work, both your names are on it. Next time, communicate. If it’s important, say it clearly.”
Lacey gives a small smile, and Shannon shrugs.
Close enough.
The next mediation is just as easy, almost the exact same situation. Two people expecting something out of each other without communicating what it is.
I could do this in my sleep.
I scurry off after finishing the second mediation and slip into the departmental meeting just in time to get an eye roll from Jacquetta.
She is of the belief that if you are not fifteen minutes early, then you’re late.
But she set me up for failure.
I plaster my HR smile on and sit down, waiting for the meeting to actually start.
“Good morning,” Jacquetta greets us, standing up and walking around the conference room like she’s a teacher in a classroom full of students. “We have quarterly reviews coming up, and there are quite a few of you who are up for promotion.”
She directs her gaze at me.
If only she knew I don’t want to move up in this company at all.
“I’m going to be extra critical and paying closer attention to the cases that you cover and your success rate in mediation.
I want zero escalations. I don’t want to see anybody in my office because you couldn’t handle it.
And the person who does that the best is going to be the person who gets the promotion. It’s as simple as that, people.”
My work BFF, Edie, makes eye contact with me, and I hold my breath.
Oh, she is not about to make me crack in this meeting. I’m not doing it. She is very good at making me crack, but this is a promotion meeting. This is very important. This is serious.
Edie is not going to read my mind, reply, and make me laugh with her silent look today.
I follow Jacquetta around the room with my eyes, but I can feel Edie burning a hole into me.
I make the mistake of looking at her briefly.
And that millisecond of eye contact makes me snicker.
Of course, Jacquetta turns around and glares at me.
Because humor cannot be allowed in the workplace. Humor is offensive. This is HR. We are serious all the time.
I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and listen to her as she continues on about straightening our department out, wanting the best of the best, and trying to make our jobs easier by reducing conflicts through workshops and team building.
After the meeting, Edie comes up to me and bumps me with her hip at the water fountain as I fill up my water bottle.
“Why do you always do that to me?” I ask her.
“Do what?” she shrugs.
“Make me laugh in those meetings.”
“You are just a child,” she says. “I just looked at you and you started laughing. I don’t know what’s funny about my face, but that seems to be a you problem, not a me problem. I don’t laugh when I look in the mirror.”
I roll my eyes and put the lid back on my water bottle.
“Leave me alone, girl. You saw how she looked at me when she talked about promotions, and you saw how she looked at me when I laughed. I think she love-hates me.”
Edie nods and puts a braid behind her ear. “Oh, she definitely love-hates you. She might love, love, hate you. And want more out of you than you can give her.”
“Hard no. She’s not my type. If women were my type... When is she going to change that wig, by the way?”
“She’s had that wig for as long as she’s had this job. She’s trying to have a soft life, but it’s just hard wig, hard life for her.”
Edie frowns. “There’s nothing soft about Jacquetta.”
I can’t see her with a man or a woman or anybody. She doesn’t seem to like anyone. She’s a spinster, and that’s cool if that’s what she wants, but it doesn’t earn her any favors around the office.
She’s just the big boss because nobody will stand up to he. If everyone’s afraid of her, no one wants to talk to her, and they kind of fix their own problems... if we can’t do it one rung below her.
“How was your weekend?” I turn to Edie, trying to change the subject.
“Pretty good. I met a man at the nail salon getting his really crusty toes done. But from the ankles up, he looked good. Got his number. We talked and met for drinks Saturday night. He’s cool. We have another date on Wednesday.”
“Nice! Well, at least he’s worried about his toes. Most men just let them be crusty, and then you have to see them... get to know them better.”
“I need to know if a man has raggedy feet, first and foremost.”
She bumps me and laughs. “How were your events? You were at the children’s museum and the botanical garden this weekend, right?”
“I was packed. Full house. Every slot was taken. Had a last-minute slot at the botanical garden.” I pause. “I don’t even want to tell you who was there.”
I look away from her.
“Girl, who was it?” She grabs my arm.
“Javonte,” I say.
He showed up Saturday at the children’s museum with, apparently, his new little sister. And then he showed up yesterday too by himself.
“What does that mean?”
“Nothing,” I say. “He likes painting, I guess. It’s got nothing to do with me.”
“Bitch, yes it does. You can play it like it doesn’t all you want and act like you’ve moved on, but that’s not what it is.”
“It’s not me,” I tell her again, lying.
I don’t want to rekindle anything just because he popped up on me and I’m back on his radar. No, thank you.
If it mattered, he would’ve said something when it all went down.
He’s wasting his time, and I’m not wasting mine.