Lauren: Weird Dynamic

Hey guys!  I'm sorry again for this one being a little later than usual.  The week got away from me.  Enjoy :)
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They keep Alex in the hospital for one more night.  I decide to stay and call in sick to work on Monday.  Liv and everyone else leaves on Sunday after they stop to visit.  She tries to leave me her SUV to drive back, but Alex's parents insist upon driving me back (after, of course, they try in vain to talk me into leaving with Liv).

By the time Alex's parents drop me off at home, I am several things.  I'm exhausted.  Unlike Alex's parents, who got a hotel room nearby, I spent two nights sleeping at the hospital.  Have you ever slept at a hospital?  It's the absolute worst.  I'm also annoyed.  His mom is acting like he almost died, and also trying her best to pretend I'm not there as much as possible.  She's also the worst.  And then I'm nervous.  Things at work have been rocky enough--and I'm worried that taking a sick day is going to make it worse.  It shouldn't, because sick days are a benefit I'm entitled to and I hardly ever use them, but all sorts of things have happened there that I didn't expect.  So.

We're all surly by the time Alex's parents drop me off.  Me for the reasons above, Alex because he's been stuck in a hospital bed for 2 days and is also tired of his mom's hovering, and Alex's parents because Alex is being a dick and I exist.  "Are you going to come over?" Alex asks me as we pull up to my place.

"I'm going to take a nap and do some laundry and then I will," I assure him.  "Want me to pick up something for us all to have for dinner?"  Since it's so close to Christmas, Alex's parents have just decided that they're going to stay through the holiday.  Alex's dad had tried to talk his mom into at least getting a hotel room, but she was insistent on staying with Alex, which probably makes sense (as much as I hate to admit it).  He's probably going to need some help while he adjusts to only being able to use one arm for now.

"Alex, sweetheart," his mom starts.  "We were hoping that we could spend the evening together as a family."  How delightfully passive-aggressive of her to not even directly tell me she doesn't want me there.

"As far as I'm concerned, Lauren's included in that," he snaps.  "And anyway, haven't we spent enough quality time together as 'a family'?  You don't get to decide who comes to my house and who doesn't."  I squirm in my seat, tugging on the seatbelt.  I hate this.  I've spent large chunks of the last few days feeling very caught in the middle of this weird dynamic.  I feel both annoyed by it and responsible for it.

"Son, I know you're in pain and tired of being cooped up, but please don't speak to your mother like that."  Alex's dad glances at him reprovingly, and I squirm again.

I watch Alex's face from the side mirror and see him open his mouth, then think better of it and snap it shut.  "I'm sorry," he apologizes reluctantly.  "And I know you guys are staying to help me, but if you're going to stay in my home, please respect both me and Lauren."

His mom says nothing, though his dad nods curtly.  I'm getting more and more irritated, and I practically throw myself out of the backseat of the car when Alex's dad finally stops in front of my house.  "Thanks for the ride," I say.  Alex opens his window and I lean in.  "I'll see you in a few hours okay?  Let me know what you want me to pick up for dinner."

"I will," he replies.

"I can cook tonight," his mom says.  "We'll get Alex settled at home and I can pick up a few things."  Rather stiffly, she adds, "You're welcome to join us, Lauren."

"Okay, thanks," I say to her, glancing through the backseat window at her.  I turn back to Alex.  "Let me know if there's anything else you want me to grab, okay?"

"I will," he repeats.  "I love you, Laur."

"I love you too."  I want to say it quickly, or not at all, because both of his parents are watching me.  But that would go against my resolution to do a better job with this kind of stuff, so I say it as normally as I possibly can.  Then I hurry towards my house.  Alex's parents don't bother to wait until I'm inside.  Instead, they pull away almost as soon as I turn away from the car.  I'm in such a hurry, it takes me a couple tries to get the key inserted into the lock, but I finally manage it.

I drop my bag on the floor and resist the urge to collapse on the couch.  Instead, I head upstairs, grab my laundry basket, and bring it to the laundry room.  I put a load in, then clean up the kitchen while it washes.  Once I put it in the dryer, I go back upstairs and run a bath.  I'm sore from sleeping in weird positions and sitting in the hard plastic hospital chairs.

When the tub is full, I strip off my clothes and sink into the hot water.  It's a small, standard tub and I wish it was bigger, but it's better than nothing.  I lay in the tub until the water cools enough that it's not relaxing anymore.  I'm enjoying the silence and lack of other people.  Honestly, going to Alex's house later is just about the last thing I want to do.  I don't know how much more togetherness with his parents I can take.  I'm almost looking forward to work tomorrow.  Almost.

I get out of the tub, dry off, and get straight in bed.  I set an alarm for two hours and fall asleep quickly.  I'm still dead asleep when my alarm goes off, and it takes me awhile to realize where the awful noise is coming from.  I finally manage to roll over and turn the alarm off.

It takes me another 20 minutes to actually get myself out of bed.  I slept too long to feel refreshed, and now I just feel groggy.  I wake up a little after washing my face and brushing my teeth, though.  I start to pull my hair into a ponytail, then I think about Alex's mom's judgy stare and instead plug my flat iron in with a sigh.  I resist the call of my sweatpants and hoodie and dress in jeans and a sweater.

I grab my phone and send a quick text to Alex.  "Leaving shortly, do you need anything?"

Within seconds he texts back, "Just your pretty face."  I roll my eyes but smile, hoping he's in a slightly better mood.   I pull on my boots and take a deep breath, steadying myself for what is sure to be a lovely evening with Alex and his parents.


The days leading up to Christmas are long.  I spend more than my 8 hours working on Tuesday and Wednesday, trying to get caught up before the holiday.  After work each day, I head straight to Alex's house for awhile.  His mom remains perfectly over-involved and insufferable, and Alex pleads with me to stay as long as possible because she backs off a bit while I'm there.  Each night, I go home in enough time to get ready for bed and crawl under the covers at a semi-reasonable time.

I do a fairly good job remaining polite (but not friendly--don't push it) to his parents until I am about to leave Wednesday night.  "I still want to go to Amanda's," Alex informs me as I'm pulling my boots on.  We had planned to spend the evening of Christmas eve with my sister, her husband, and my niece.

"Okay," I reply, surprised.  "I told her we weren't coming, but I can tell her we are after all."

"Weren't going where?" Alex's mom asks, coming into the room and looking between us suspiciously.

I freeze, knowing this isn't going to go well.  Luckily, Alex jumps in.  "To Lauren's sister's house for Christmas Eve."

"Absolutely not," his mom commands, shaking her head.  "You're not leaving this house. And anyway, your father and I are here, you can't go running off and leaving us here!"

"We have plans, Mother," Alex says through gritted teeth.  I hate how annoyed and on edge he's been, but I understand it.  "I need to get out of this house.  I'm not an invalid."

"You're seriously injured, Alexander," she replies.  "You could--"

"No, I'm not," he snaps back.  "I have some broken ribs and a broken collarbone.  Last I checked, there was nothing life threatening about either of those things.  You're acting like I'm dying, and it's ridiculous.  I'm tired of it.  I'm glad you're here to help me with the things I need help with, but I need you to let me do the things I'm capable of doing--including having Christmas Eve dinner with Lauren's family, like we planned."

She glares at him, shooting daggers out of her eyes.  "And what, exactly, do you suggest your father and I do while you're off gallivanting around with your girlfriend?"  She spits the word out like it burns her tongue.

Eager to dispel some of the conflict, I say, "You could join us, if you'd like."  It takes every last bit of resolve to be nice that I have, but I manage it.

Alex and his mom both look at me like, "are you out of your goddamned mind?"  But I'm not.  I know she'll never agree, and I'm banking on that.  The invitation is polite and friendly, but she'll never come.  It works, because when she sees I'm looking at her expectantly, her face softens.  "Thank you," she says, a little stiffly.  "But I guess if Alex insists on going, we'll find something to do here.  I could give this house a proper cleaning without worrying about disturbing his rest."  She looks around in distaste, and I almost laugh.  Alex is incredibly neat and does a good job keeping his home clean and tidy.  There's no "proper cleaning" necessary, but whatever she needs to do to be okay with this is fine with me.  She looks between us one more time, then says, "Goodnight, Lauren," and turns on her heel, striding out of the room.

"I'll pick you up around 5, then?" I ask Alex.

"Sounds perfect," he replies.  I kiss him carefully before I go, and hurry out.  I can't wait until his parents leave.  I wonder if they've talked at all about what happened at Thanksgiving.  I haven't had a chance to ask.  It's hard to tell, with the tension.  It's palpable as soon as I walk into the house, every time.  It's clear Alex is still pissed at his parents.  It's hard for me to watch.  I still feel responsible, and it's weird seeing him so annoyed and short with them.  I miss his laid back personality, and I hope it will come back once they're gone.

I work a half day on Christmas Eve.  Sean has been off this week, which means it's been peaceful.  I'm surprised to see him when I walk in on Thursday.  He steps to the door of his office as I walk past.  He allows me to take off my coat and put my stuff down before he calls, "Can I see you for a sec, Lauren?"

I take a deep breath and turn around.  "Sure," I reply.  I walk into his office and he shuts the door behind me.

"I want to talk to you about a few changes I'd like to make for the new year," he says after I sit down.  "I'd like to switch around a few of your job duties."  I listen in shock as he details the changes he'd like to make.  When he's finished, he cocks his head to the side.  "You look upset."

"Sean, you're changing my job entirely," I point out, trying hard (but failing) to hold back my indignation.  "Making phone calls?  Doing your data entry?  I was hired as an engineer, not an assistant."

His eyebrows flick up almost imperceptibly.  "And an engineer you'll remain," he replies.  "But the fact is that I need someone I can trust to do some of these things, and you're that person."

"Oh no," I tell him, shaking my head.  "Don't try to flatter me into liking this."

He smirks.  "I don't need you to like it, I just need you to do it."

"Well, I need you to hire an assistant," I snap back, too angry to control my mouth anymore.  "I'd like to speak to HR before any of these changes go into effect."

"You're welcome to," he says, choosing to ignore my first comment.  "I already cleared it with HR, though.  They wrote up a new job description for you."  He fishes a paper out of a folder clearly marked with my name and slides it across the desk to me.

By this point I'm shaking in fury.  I snatch the paper away and see that HR surely did change my job description.  I read through it, seeing only three things on it that match what I'm currently doing.  "You can have this back," I say in disgust, shoving it back towards him.  "I'm not doing any of those things."

"Lauren, I have to warn you that you're dangerously close to being written up right now," he replies calmly.  I hate him.

"You can't write me up," I retort.

Another tiny flick of eyebrow.  "And why is that?"

"Because I quit."