Full Figured 14, page 2
“What’s up? How’s your first day back?” Emory asked. We’d worked together at Worldwide Holdings for nearly six years, and she’d become more like a sister than a coworker. Emory was the one person I could confide in without having to worry about judgement, no matter what the situation was. She was also one of the few people in the office whose shoe collection could compete with mine.
“Girl.” I sighed.
“That bad, huh?” She laughed.
“Hey, Em!” Brandon yelled out.
“Hey, Bran,” Emory yelled, so loud that I held the phone from my ear.
“Don’t speak to him,” I told her. “We’re not friends with him right now.”
“That’s not true, Em. Don’t listen to her,” Brandon yelled.
“So, I guess you’re working through lunch.” Emory laughed.
“As a matter of fact, I’m leaving for the day in a little while. I can meet you wherever.” I glanced over at Brandon, making sure he understood that I meant what I had said earlier.
“Uh, okay. Is something wrong?” Emory replied. “Is he tripping again about what happened last time?”
The “last time” that Emory was referring to was an incident that had occurred six months ago, when Brandon and I had both attended a weeklong training conference in San Francisco. One night, we drank too much at the hotel bar, and I ended up in his hotel room. It wasn’t the first time we’d had sex—we’d done so a couple of times during grad school—but I assured him that it would be the last. As much as I enjoyed it, I’d learned a long time ago that sleeping with a coworker brought a lot of drama along with it, and I didn’t do drama. There was also the fact that he was now my boss. He had attempted a time or two since then and would occasionally flirt, but he had finally accepted that it wouldn’t be happening again, and we continued to have a great working relationship.
“Nope, not at all. But I’ll tell you later. Text me where you wanna meet and what time,” I told her, then hung up.
“Well, I guess I’ll get out of here so you can finish up. I’ll make sure Holly gets the materials sent out to the Denver office, so you’ll have everything you need for the week.” He stood up.
“Please don’t have Holly do me any favors,” I said sarcastically. “She’s already so busy.”
“Funny. Thanks again, Brooke. I really appreciate you. Enjoy your time off doing whatever it is you’re gonna do.” He shrugged.
“Thanks, Brandon. I will,” I said. “But trust me when I say this. If I get shit on with this promotion thing, Holly will have plenty of stuff to do around here.”
“Understood,” Brandon said. And just before he walked out of my office, he added, “I’d been looking forward to seeing you this week in the office. Lord knows you stay looking beautiful.”
“Bye, Brandon.” I couldn’t help smiling as he closed the door behind him.
Chapter Two
Brittany
“Ms. Newman, we need you down here in D-thirty-six ASAP,” the voice announced through the walkie-talkie attached to my hip. I looked at my watch. It was after two o’clock, and I was trying to leave on time for a change. I had already had a long day and had addressed the pile of paperwork on my desk that I’d needed to get through.
I pushed the button on the side of the walkie-talkie and, not trying to hide the irritation in my voice, asked, “What’s the problem?”
“It’s Marlena again. She’s having a meltdown and threatening to take her clothes off,” was the response.
I exhaled loudly and stood up, then stretched before I took the long walk up the flight of stairs and down the corridor to get to the recreation room, hoping to arrive before thirteen-year-old Marlena got naked in front of everyone, as she’d done several times before. As I moved as quickly as possible, I promised myself for the hundredth time that I was going to start going to the gym or at least walking in the evenings. I knew I was lying to myself, because by the time I usually left work, it was too late, and I was too tired to do anything other than go home, take a shower, eat, and go to bed.
“Where is she?” I asked when I got to the recreation room.
“Right over there, Ms. Newman. I told her you were coming down here,” Crystal, one of the rec aides, announced loudly.
I looked over to where she was pointing, and there was Marlena, singing and rolling on the floor, barefoot and wearing only her white uniform shirt and flowered underwear. I was slightly grateful that most of her body was still covered.
“Marlena!”
The sound of my voice yelling her name caused her to stop rolling, and she slowly sat up, turned around, and looked at me. Her eyes were wide, and she looked shocked that I was in the room, even though she’d been warned.
“I told you.” Crystal nodded and folded her arms.
“She sure did,” said another one of the aides.
“I love it. I love it. I love it,” Marlena said, and then she went back to singing loudly. But instead of rolling around, she began rocking back and forth.
The room erupted in laughter.
I looked around at the other students, who were watching and pointing. “Ms. Crystal, you all take the other students out of here while I handle this, please,” I said.
“Where you want us to take them?” Crystal asked. “It’s too late to go outside. And the other classrooms on this floor are either locked or have students.”
“Take them down to the gymnasium,” I told her. “It’s open.”
“But I thought Mr. McGee told us to wait here until the buses come,” Crystal said, having to yell over Marlena and her laughing audience.
Before I could stop myself, I turned and snapped, “I don’t care what Mr. McGee said. Get these students out of here.”
“Yes, ma’am. Come on, everyone. Line up,” Crystal said in a not too pleasant voice. I didn’t care. I was too busy making my way over to Marlena, who was now pulling at the bottom of her shirt.
“Get your tail up and put your pants on. Now!” I said through clenched teeth.
At first, she didn’t move and just stared at me as she continued singing. Then I grabbed her by the shoulder, and she stopped. “Ouch.”
“You heard what I told you to do. Why are you in here acting a fool, Marlena? I told you the next time you felt the need to be a stripper in this building, you were getting put out. So, now let’s go.” I frowned as I looked around for her clothes. I spotted one sock under a nearby table and her brown shoes across the room. I still didn’t see her pants anywhere. “Find those pants, so we can get to Mr. McGee’s office and call your mother.”
“I don’t wanna get put out,” Marlena whined. She was a pretty girl with bright eyes and a small dimple. Her hair, which her mother kept cut short, because Marlena would pull it out when she got angry, was standing on top of her head.
“I don’t care what you want to do.”
“I’m sorry,” she pleaded.
“I don’t wanna hear that. You weren’t sorry when you were in here disrobing, were you?” I said, grabbing her sock and shoes and still looking for her pants.
“I told Ms. Crystal I was hot and needed some water,” Marlena tried to explain.
I turned back around and said, “So, because she wouldn’t let you get some water, you decided to do this? It’s fifteen minutes until the buses come. You couldn’t stop and get water in the hallway on the way to the bus?”
Marlena looked at me as if I’d just announced a way to end world hunger. “Oh.”
“Oh, nothing. Find your pants and let’s go.” I sighed. “The buses are going to be outside in a minute.”
“Ms. Newman, I’m gonna be good, I promise. I don’t want no days,” she pleaded again.
“Marlena, you said that last time.”
“I know. But this time, I promise.” She hopped up and reached behind the small bookshelf that she had been crawling in front of. Seconds later, her pants and her other sock were in her hand, and she pulled them on. She rubbed her hand through her hair and innocently asked, “Can I just go wait in your office, Ms. Newman? Please?”
If I had told anyone that moments before she had been acting like a wild banshee, they wouldn’t have believed me. She looked like a normal ninth grader waiting to go home for the day. But I knew better. I’d been a social worker at the high school for almost four years, and prior to that, a special education teacher, but I’d never dealt with a student more challenging than Marlena. Although she was smart and funny, she was a handful, and I was one of the few people in the building that could handle her, which was why when she got out of control, I was the first point of contact. She responded well to me, like most of the other students with behavioral and emotional problems. I was kind and patient with them, but I was stern. They knew I did not play.
“Get up, put your shoes on, and let’s go,” I told her. “You have thirty seconds, and I mean it.”
Just then Mr. McGee, the school principal, walked into the recreation room. “Ms. Newman, everything okay in here?” he asked. “I heard Marlena was having a moment.”
I looked at him, thinking how convenient it was for him to arrive right when I had the situation handled. He had the same walkie-talkie that I did, and I knew he had heard them call me. There wasn’t that much perfect timing in the world.
“She was, but she’s getting herself together, and we were just about on our way to the office to see you. Right, Marlena?” I said.
“Yes,” Marlena whined. “But I don’t want no days.”
“Come on. Let’s go discuss it,” I said with a smile, to make her feel a little more at ease and hopefully move a little faster. Honestly, it was up to Mr. McGee whether or not she got suspended. But considering that the last time she decided to undress, he had sent her home for two days, it was probably inevitable that she was going to get the unwanted vacation. But I was tired, and the sooner we got to his office, the sooner I could get back to my workload and go home.
“Okay.” She sighed and slipped her feet into her shoes.
We followed Mr. McGee out the door and headed to his office.
“Let’s take the elevator,” he suggested. “We’ll get there a little quicker.”
We climbed on the elevator, which was only for staff and handicapped students, and he pressed the number for the bottom floor. Marlena stood in the corner, a sad look on her face. As soon as the elevator started moving, there was a jerk, and then it stopped.
“What in the world?” Mr. McGee said, looking around.
“Ugh. We’re stuck,” I groaned.
“What? We’re stuck? We’re stuck?” Marlena gasped and crouched on the floor.
“Calm down,” I said softly.
“I can’t believe this.” Mr. McGee began pressing all the buttons on the panel. I could see that he was just as agitated as Marlena.
“What are you doing?” I asked him. “Why are you pressing all of those?”
“I’m trying to get us out of here. We can’t be stuck,” he said, his voice an octave higher than normal.
“Press the emergency button. Maintenance will hear it,” I commanded.
“I did,” he yelled.
Marlena began yelling. “We’re stuck, Ms. Newman. We’re stuck in here.”
“Calm down, Marlena,” I said, trying to remain as relaxed as possible.
“We need to get out of here.” Beads of sweat were forming on Mr. McGee’s forehead, and he loosened his tie. He took out his cell phone, examined it, and said, “I don’t have any service to call anyone.”
“We need to get out. We need to get out now!” Marlena jumped up and shouted. Her hands grabbed the metal bar at the back of the elevator, and she swayed back and forth, causing the small car to rock a little.
“Marlena! Stop it!” I commanded. She slowly eased back onto the floor. My heart began racing. I had to do something. I reached for my walkie-talkie and said into it, “This is Ms. Newman. We are stuck in the staff elevator. Can someone call maintenance and get us out of here ASAP?”
“Ten-four, Ms. Newman. We’re on it,” someone responded.
I turned to Marlena and said, “See? They’re coming. We’ll be out of here in a minute. Okay?”
“Yes, ma’am.” She nodded, tears forming in her eyes.
I leaned beside her and closed my eyes. My blood pressure was already up, and this situation wasn’t helping at all. All I wanted to do was leave work on time for a change. And here I was, stuck in a death trap with a scary-ass boss and a freaked-out student.
Moments later, there was a jerk, and we began descending. When we stopped, the elevator doors opened. I was relieved.
“Everybody okay?” one of the maintenance men asked.
“We’re fine, Chuck. No worries.” Mr. McGee shook his hand as he stepped off the elevator.
I reached down and helped Marlena to her feet. “See, I told you we would be okay.”
She stood, and after we stepped off, she gave me a big hug. “Thanks, Ms. Newman. I love you.”
“I know you do, sweetie.” I rubbed the top of her head.
“Mr. McGee was scared, huh?” she asked, and we both glanced over at him as he talked with the maintenance man.
I nodded and whispered, “Yeah, he was.”
We both laughed, and she said, “But you weren’t. You made sure we were safe. You knew it, huh? Right then, you knew it. How?”
The bell rang, and students came swarming into the hallway from their classrooms. I looked at Marlena and said, “Go ahead, so you don’t miss your bus.”
“Huh?” She looked confused.
“We’re gonna have a better day tomorrow, right? Promise me.” I stared into her face. “If you don’t, I’m gonna make sure you get so many days, you won’t come back until after spring break.”
“I promise, Ms. Newman.” Marlena hugged me again and then took off down the hallway.
“Marlena, walk!” I yelled behind her.
“Why did you do that?” Mr. McGee’s voice came over my shoulder. “You just let her go home?”
I turned to see the look of irritation on his face. “I figured she’d had enough drama for the day. Being in that elevator was punishment enough. She’ll be fine the rest of the week.”
“And next week?” he asked.
“I can’t really say, Mr. McGee, but my grandmother used to say that sometimes it takes only one moment for your entire life to change. Maybe that elevator was her moment.”
“Well, just so you know, if it wasn’t, the next time she clowns, she’s getting ten days,” he said and walked off.
By the time I finished work, fought traffic, and made it home, it was after seven o’clock. I went straight into my bedroom, took off my clothes, and just before jumping into a hot shower, I ordered a pizza and some wings for dinner. I was standing in the shower and allowing the water to remove the stress of my day when I heard my name being called.
“Britt, where you at?” called Duane, my boyfriend. He was nearly yelling.
“I’m in the shower,” I yelled back.
Grabbing my scented body gel, I hurried and finished washing up. I stepped out of the shower and wrapped my favorite robe around my body without bothering to dry off. Maybe seeing my damp body would be a turn-on for him. They said sex was a stress reliever, and I needed some relief badly. When I opened the door, Duane was sitting on the edge of my bed, flipping through the TV channels.
“Babe, don’t sit on the bed with your work clothes on.”
“I’m on the foot. Don’t nobody lay their head down here. Damn. I just got here. Don’t start tripping already,” Duane groaned, his eyes still on the television.
“I’m not tripping. All I’m saying is—”
“You ain’t cook?” he interrupted.
“No. I got home late,” I said. “I texted you before I left school, and traffic was horrible.”
“You complaining about me sitting on the bed in my work gear, but your clothes you wore to work are tossed on the bed. What’s the difference?” he asked.
“The difference is I work in a school building and you work outside,” I said as I looked for a pair of sweatpants and an oversize T-shirt to wear to bed, because clearly sex wasn’t happening. I was tired, irritated, and Duane was being an asshole, something he was being more and more frequently these days.
At that moment the doorbell rang.
“Who the hell is that?” Duane frowned and stood up.
“It’s probably the pizza I ordered,” I told him, slipping my shirt over my head.
“Pizza? Damn. That’s what I had for lunch. I don’t want no pizza.” The way he said it put me in the mind of Marlena complaining earlier.
I inhaled and reminded myself not to allow the frustrations of my job to spill over into my home. “I didn’t know. I ordered wings too, though, if you want.”
“What I want is a home-cooked meal. Man, Britt, you used to cook all the time, but now you barely even cut on the stove.” Duane shook his head at me.
The doorbell rang again, and I went to answer the door. The pizza and wings had arrived. I thanked the driver and took the food. I was on my way to the kitchen with it when Duane came out of the bedroom and headed toward the front door.
“Where are you going?” I asked.
“I don’t want no pizza, I told you. And I don’t want no wings, either. I’m ’bout to go by my sister’s crib and get a plate, and then I’m going home,” he said.
I stopped and stared at him. “Really, Duane?”
“Yeah. I’ll hit you up later. I had a long day at work, and I’m tired and hungry. I’m not in the mood to argue.” He reached for the door handle.
I wanted to tell him that he wasn’t the only one who had had a long day, and that I was just as tired as he was and had no intentions of arguing. I wanted to ask him why he had had such a short fuse and had been so irritated with me lately, but instead, I said, “I understand. I’m gonna eat and go to bed myself.”
Duane barely brushed his lips across my cheek and walked out the door without saying anything else.
I went into the kitchen, and after putting one slice of the pie and two wings on a paper plate, I went back into my bedroom and got into bed. I looked at the clothes that I’d taken off earlier, now neatly folded and in a pile on the edge of my bed, and thought about Duane’s comment. Had I overreacted when I came out of the bathroom and saw him sitting on the side of my bed in his dirty work clothes? Maybe I should’ve waited until he got here and asked him what he wanted for dinner before I ordered food. Had I been inconsiderate? My already bad day had gotten worse, and now I was crying. I needed to vent. I needed to talk.
