17. Catriona
Seventeen
Catriona
The sun is fighting to get through the cloud cover.
The chill when it doesn’t succeed is proof it’s still a while to go before summer.
I’ve decided it’s warm enough for my herbs, as I busy myself with pots, plants, seeds and soil.
I’m determined to make the most out of my tiny balcony.
I decorated it with colourful strings of lights for Christmas a couple of months after I moved in, and orange and green banners for St Patrick’s Day.
Now it’s time for basil and coriander to do the decorating job.
I grab the marker I took from work – yes, sue me – and write the herb names on wooden sticks.
“Ach, for feck’s sake!”
I throw the stick to the ground – the one where I’ve written Rian instead of coriander. Is this payback for stealing?
No matter how much I try to focus on the task at hand, my thoughts keep returning to last night. I can’t understand how I let it happen – again – and how much I liked it. My arms tied… No one has ever made me feel like that, so out of control, yet so free. Nothing else mattered in that moment.
And now, of course, I am riddled with regret.
Such irresponsible and stupid behaviour.
I didn’t initiate either of the incidences, but that doesn’t lessen my accountability – I did nothing to stop them, and that makes me just as responsible as him.
I want to succeed with my career and the last thing I need is for myself or anyone else to wonder whether I reached the top because of sleeping with the boss.
I haven’t slept with him!
Semantics, I know.
This affair must end. I snort – does letting my boss spank me and then give me an orgasm with the world as witness classify as an affair?
“Jeyses, Catriona,” I mumble when I use too much force pushing the new stick, correctly labelled, into the soil, and cover half the writing in mud.
I can’t stop thinking about what Gemma said that Rian doesn’t sleep around, at least not with the women in the office. And then his own words – whether they were earnest or not – that “normal” drooling women don’t tempt him. That women who talk back and hold their own do.
“Stop!” I say out loud. I can’t overthink his intentions. This whole thing is probably just another way for him to get to me, and I have to find a way to end it.
A stick goes flying in the air and over the balcony railing as a buzzing sound startles me. My phone lights up on the metal table, and I swear quietly seeing the name displayed on the screen. I quickly remove one muddy glove and press the loudspeaker.
“Hi, Ma!” My mother is the last person I want to talk to right now.
“So, you’re alive!” she says in mock surprise.
“Please, don’t start.”
“I’m only saying, it wouldn’t hurt you to call your old mammi now and then.”
“How can I? You call me before I ever get a chance to.”
Mum laughs softly. The banter is friendly, there’s no malice behind our words.
“So how was the birthday party yesterday? I was so sorry to miss it,” I ask.
“Oh, it was grand, it was grand. Daniel was in good spirits, so excited to tell everyone that he wasn’t twenty-five anymore. I think it helped that you nipped over to see him in the morning.”
Mum continues with her update on our small family and whatever mischief Daniel got up to during his party.
It was pretty hectic for me yesterday, doing the Saturday parkrun, finishing some online work and visiting my cousin Daniel before crossing town to go to work.
Stress easily upsets Daniel, so I had to make sure I was relaxed and calm while I was with him.
“I wish I could have been there.” Regret gnaws at my insides, knowing what I did while the birthday party took place. I lean on the balcony railing, wishing the sight of the tall, swaying trees in the park would calm me.
“I know, love, but you’ll catch up with everyone next week when Eric is home.”
It’s been months since I saw my other cousin. His job as a UN peacekeeper forces him to stay away for long periods at a time. Periods filled with anxiety and dread for those of us back home. It’s a scary world out there.
“I can’t wait to see him.” I pause while a train squeals past on the tracks below. “We’ve arranged to go for something to eat on Wednesday, just the two of us,” I tell Mum when it’s quiet. I miss Eric a lot – we’re quite close.
“Ach, that’s great, sweetheart, that’s good.” Then she asks the dreaded question. “So, how was work yesterday?”
“Grand, yeah grand. We got a lot done.” I close my eyes and hold my breath, trying to stay calm.
“Yes? Has that bully of a boss of yours gotten his act together yet?”
Mum has always been supportive of me, and my embarrassment over my behaviour increases. I doubt my supportive mother will be pleased if I answer that my boss now spends his time both verbally and literally undressing me in his office. I swallow hard and keep my voice even.
“Ach, he’s the same. I can handle him.” Can I?
“Are you sure, love? You sound a little tense.” Panic trickles down my back.
I can’t let Mum suspect what’s going on.
It would break her heart in disappointment.
Silently, I curse myself for not being a better actor.
“If things aren’t working out between you, maybe you should look for another job or transfer to another office? ”
I take the easy way out. “Maybe you’re right, Ma. There may be some internal transfers I could apply for.” Before Mum can respond, I continue, “By the way, how is Patrick? I haven’t seen him in a while.”
“You haven’t seen me in a while either!” Mum yells dramatically.
“Ach, Patrick is fine, he’s fine. Always worrying about his boys and always issues with his ex.
Nothing changes, all is the same.” She laughs.
Her laughter is underlined with happiness, not the bitterness that might be expected considering the troublesome ex.
Mum has been seeing Patrick, a separated office clerk with two teenage boys, for the last five years.
Since the boys live with Patrick on the weekends, they’ve never considered moving in together, but they seem very happy with each other and their arrangement.
Mum is content with her life, being Patrick’s sidekick in his battles.
As we finish our conversation, I wonder if I’ll ever find my own Patrick, someone I can be as happy with as Mum is with hers.