Chapter 10 #2
I made it my mission to find out where Teddy’s head was at.
Was she just trying to wind me up, or did she actually want to be a part of the group?
She was certainly winding me up at work, anyway; she scrutinised everything I did so intensely that it was like she was waiting for me to mess up.
Waiting for a mistake that she could point to and say, “See? There’s the girl who got me fired.
” And I couldn’t give her the satisfaction – not when the work had come to mean so much to me – but I could certainly use the D the undressed bed was the only free surface, so I started to stack it there.
“What are they?”
“Hive wraps. They cover the boxes in the winter to keep them warm.”
“Ooh, like little cosies!” I said, my brain immediately picturing something much cuter than the commercial wraps I was holding. “Maybe we can get Phil and Ethel to crochet some!”
“Right,” Teddy said with a half-hearted laugh. “Phil’s the one with the beard?”
I nodded, then swallowed hard, sensing my opening. “That’s right,” I said as I rearranged a stack of wraps to try to make it more stable.
“And Jack’s the one I spoke to about kayaking after the game?”
I nodded. “Yeah, he’s really serious about that, by the way,” I said, thinking about how he’d talked my ear off about possible spots at our film night last week. “He’s been trying to find the perfect place to take us. So if you don’t want to do it, let me know now so I can let him down easy.”
“No, no,” she said, “it sounds cool. I’ve wanted to go every summer; I just don’t have the kit.”
“Speaking of,” I said, aware that my segue was loose at best, but hoping I pulled it off, “how did you find the game? Fatima says you’re coming back, so you must have enjoyed it at least a little bit?”
I heard a sharp inhale behind me, and I spun round to see Teddy staring wide-eyed at the soil-stained box in her arms. I heard the pile of wraps fall over behind me.
“Only if that’s okay,” she said, sounding almost panicked. “I don’t want to intrude on your friends. Seriously, if you don’t want me there, that’s fine.”
My brow pinched in amusement. “It’s not an intrusion,” I said. “You’re fine. But you also shouldn’t feel pressured to for my sake, you know?”
“I mean, I can find a different character to play,” she stammered, her eyes looking anywhere but at me. “Fatima did tell me that, if I was uncomfortable with the history between our characters, we could change it.”
“You and Fatima are just the best of pals, aren’t you?”
Teddy finally met my eyes, and, yep, she was definitely panicking. I did my best to soften my face and stepped towards her, then realised I’d stepped too close in the cramped space, so I shuffled back a bit again.
“I promise you, it’s fine,” I said. “If you want to play, I’m happy to have you there. Even as Nashala.”
“You sure?” Teddy asked, her voice barely louder than a whisper. I smiled reassuringly.
“Yes. Definitely.”
Damnit, I thought. Looks like I’ll have to play nice.
Once we’d cleared the table and chairs, we sat down on opposite sides, our laptop screens hitting against one another in the middle. I was pretty sure neither of us had them at a comfortable angle, but we were both on our best behaviour, which meant compromise.
Teddy muttered to herself enough for me to garner that she was ordering plants of some sort, and I tuned her out as best I could. I opened my own emails, then groaned as soon as I saw the first one.
From: simone.hill@
To: chloe.barlow@
Subject: RE: RE: RE: Sabbatical
Chloe, I’m sorry, but you can’t ignore this problem anymore.
If you don’t get this paperwork sorted, you’re going to be terminated.
I’ve tried to ring you several times to no avail.
If I don’t hear from you by the end of today, I’ll have to start the termination process. Please don’t make me do this.
Regards,
Simone
Ouch. Not even a “Warm regards”.
I supposed I had been ignoring lots of calls recently. Though, to be fair, looking at the number that had rung me as recently as two hours ago, it was only one digit off from a number that had been repeatedly trying to sell me bogus insurance.
“Is everything okay?”
I looked up from my phone to see Teddy looking over at me with concern etched across her face. I realised my own face was pinched so tightly I’d have permanent creases to contend with.
I sighed. “Yeah, just a problem I’ve been putting off that I need to deal with.”
I moved to step outside so I could ring Simone back, but, as I opened the door of the shepherd’s hut, the rain suddenly intensified, the squall strong enough to blow rain into the hut.
“Don’t let the rain get in,” Teddy snapped. “It’ll get the hive wraps damp.”
“Sorry,” I said, shutting the door again. I’d have to do this with an audience.
The line rang only once before Simone answered.
“Chloe, thank god,” she said. “I really didn’t want to have to fire you. It’s so much paperwork.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, sinking back down into the chair. Teddy was clearly not-so-subtly listening as she scrolled on her laptop. “I got your email. All of them, actually.”
“Why didn’t you respond, then? This isn’t a good look.”
“I know, it’s just been really busy.”
“Busy how?” Simone asked, and I could picture the glare on her face. I’d seen it often enough when I’d thrown her a curveball at work. “I thought you needed time off.”
“I do,” I insisted. “I’ve just been doing a lot to try to … find myself, you know?”
Teddy narrowed her eyes, and I could picture Simone doing the same thing on the other end of the line.
“Okay, well, your annual leave is all used up now, and you’re past the end of the sick leave I can give you without a doctor’s note. If we don’t file your sabbatical request today, you’ll be terminated, whether either of us likes it or not.”
“Okay, what do I need to sign?” I asked, scrolling through the email thread – wow, Simone was not happy that I’d been ignoring her – until I found the attached form. But what I saw wasn’t just a simple one-pager; it was a nineteen-page application form.
“It’s not that easy,” Simone said with a sigh. “You have to apply for sabbatical. It’s part of the continued personal development scheme. You have to show how your sabbatical will help you grow as a person and be better at your job.”
I pulled a face. “Didn’t Ellen in operations use her sabbatical last year to run ultramarathons in South America or something? How does that help her be better at her job?”
“She made something up!” Simone was practically shouting at me now.
“Probably said something about how it made her more focused and tenacious. That’s what I would say.
It’s just a hoop to jump through, Chloe.
But you have to actually jump. I can’t do this for you, and, frankly, I don’t want to.
If you don’t care enough to actually apply for the sabbatical, then maybe you shouldn’t work here. ”
She wasn’t wrong – I didn’t care enough. As passionate as I’d felt about the actual rescue, the work I’d been doing there had been life-draining. Having finally found something I did care about, my old job felt pretty unimportant to me in comparison.
But she was also right that I needed to play the game.
Jump through the hoops. Because, as much as I felt like the work at Gwenynen was what I should be doing, it wasn’t guaranteed.
Not long-term. And if I let things blow up at the rescue, I wouldn’t have a back-up plan for if things didn’t work out.
And plus, there were other people who needed to be able to make decisions based on what I was doing – Simone more than anyone.
“I’ll get it to you by lunchtime,” I resolved. “I’m sorry, Simone.”
“Fine,” she said, and I took it for the acceptance it was. “And that better mean midday, Chloe, not a late lunch.”
“Midday,” I said. And then the line went quiet. I looked at my phone to see that Simone had ended the call.
“Wanna tell me what the hell that was?”
I looked up to see that Teddy was now staring directly at me.
“Do you have another job or something?”
I shrugged. “Sort of. I’m taking a sabbatical.”
“Sounds like you haven’t taken a sabbatical.”
I frowned. “I’m dealing with it. It’s fine.”
“And how long is this sabbatical supposed to be?”
“Up to six months,” I said, sitting back down at my laptop and opening the application form. Of course it wasn’t a fillable PDF; I’d have to do it by hand. “Do you have a printer here?”
“Could the farm get in trouble for hiring you?” Teddy asked, indignant, and I looked up to meet her gaze. She looked furious.
“I highly doubt it,” I said, trying to reassure her, but a muscle in her jaw twitched as she clenched it, and I knew I hadn’t succeeded in calming her down. My stomach clenched, too, as if I were about to take a hit. I’d seen this look on her face before.
“But you don’t know,” she said – not a question. “You have no idea if you’re legally allowed to take a second salaried job. Or if we could get in trouble. But you did it anyway.”
“It’s fine,” I said, feeling myself slip into the charm offensive, a smile quirking at the corner of my mouth.
Fawn mode, the internet psychologists called it.
Defuse the situation as best as possible.
“That was my boss, and we’re going to be fine.
I just need to submit a form today, and we’ll be all good. ”
But, just as I’d feared it would, my attempts to smooth the situation had made it worse. Teddy slammed her laptop shut.
“Yeah, well, you’d better make sure you dot your Is and cross your Ts. I can’t believe you would put us in this position.”
“It’s really not that big of a deal, Teddy,” I said, but I knew it was weak.
It was a big deal. Even if the farm couldn’t get in trouble for hiring me – I would have been shocked if anyone but me could be held accountable for that – if I had to quit suddenly because I’d done something wrong, I’d be leaving them high and dry. Shit, I really had fucked up, hadn’t I?
“It is,” Teddy insisted, echoing my own thoughts, as she stood up and tucked her laptop beneath her arm. “I’m going to work from my room. By the time I see you next, you’d better be able to assure me this won’t be a problem.”
I swallowed hard and nodded. Then she turned and left the hut, seemingly unfazed by the rain falling on her as she went.
* * *
I did manage to get my sabbatical application to Simone before lunch – 11:37, in fact – and I was embarrassed at how easily I’d completed it.
If I hadn’t been avoiding her emails for weeks, I could have had it sorted on day one.
It had been easy to write about how my community building, marketing, and event planning work at the farm would translate to my job at the rescue, even if I hoped I wouldn’t have to go back.
And when I got to the last page, I was touched and a little embarrassed to see that, despite my antics, Simone had already filled in the manager endorsement section for me.
I got a response from her within minutes of sending the form in:
From: simone.hill@
To: chloe.barlow@
Subject: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: Sabbatical
Now, was that so hard?
Leave it with me. See you in November, or sooner if you want. Just KEEP ME IN THE LOOP, for all our sakes.
I also made sure that the farm couldn’t get in trouble for hiring me – they couldn’t – and that there was nothing in my contract or the sabbatical policy legally precluding me from making money from another company – there wasn’t.
Then, in the rest of the time until my actual lunch, I pulled out my journal so I could process what had just happened.
There were some familiar frustrations that came out on the page; namely, why did I struggle so hard to do things meth-odically? Why did things have to come down to the wire for me to take them seriously?
But then my musings turned to Teddy. As annoyed as I was with myself about how I’d handled things, I was also embarrassed that she’d witnessed my procrastination.
And more than that, I’d solidified the impression that I was chaotic and careless and, therefore, untrustworthy.
She’d said as much to me at the Ren Faire, and I hadn’t exactly proven her wrong.
But I had an opportunity here. And not just to do something I was passionate about; an opportunity to do things differently.
To prove Teddy wrong, yes, but also to prove to myself that this wasn’t who I was.
I wasn’t the chaos or the carelessness. That I had more to give, and that I could do things the right way.
I had something to prove; not just to Teddy or to Jen, but to myself. And getting this festival right was the perfect way to do it.