Lauren: Fired

I sit down heavily on the couch and scan the article:
                 Several top executives have been placed on paid leave while an undisclosed, independent  company investigates claims of sexual harassment.  One former employee from the company's Boulder office has come forward and said that she was sexually harassed on several occasions by her former supervisor.  Sean Condin, the supervisor in question, was quickly and quietly moved to one of the Denver locations following the incident.  This appears to be his second move within the company. Condin, who was already on paid leave for unknown reasons, was fired yesterday amidst the accusations.

There's more, but I've seen enough.  "Wow," I say, slowly folding the newspaper.  Then the dots connect and I look up at Alex in panic.  "Shit, what if they think I violated the non-disclosure?"

"The employee in the article is from the Boulder office," Alex reminds me.  "And from the sounds of it, this is something that has been in the works for awhile.  Probably since before you even quit."

"Which explains why they were so eager to give me a nice severance package and have me sign the non-disclosure," I reply.  "What the fuck."

"That means they knew this was happening the whole time," Alex finishes my thought.  "That's..."

"I know."  We look at each for several seconds, then I shake my head and say, "I'm glad I don't work there anymore."

"I am too," Alex says.

I narrow my eyes.  "And I knew there was something off with him!  I told you."

"You did tell me."

"And you blew me off," I accuse him.

"I did blow you off," he agrees again.  "I will never blow you off again."  Then he smirks, because apparently he's 12 and "blow you off" is funny.

"Good, because I imagine you still want to be blown at some point in your life," I retort.

"Mmm, I kind of want to be blown right now," he replies, cocking an eyebrow at me.

"That sucks," I tell him, standing up.  I intend to go back into the kitchen to finish the dishes I was washing when he called for me.  He snorts and I roll my eyes.  "Go ahead, make the joke," I dare him.

"Well it's not fun anymore," he complains.

I smirk and head towards the kitchen.  "Neither is blowing you!" I call over my shoulder.

"Ouch!" he yells back.  "I'll remember that!"

"File it away with your fond memories of blow jobs!" I shoot back.

I hear him start laughing and I grin to myself.  Now that Alex is starting to work again a little, he's been in a really great mood most of the time, rather than just some of the time.  I've even dragged him grocery shopping with me just to get him out of the house, even though I absolutely hate grocery shopping with him.  He's like a small child, wandering away and coming back with fruit snacks or random cookies and throwing them in the cart.  I reach down to grab something, stand up, and he's gone.  Reach for something else, turn around, and he's back with candy.  It's the worst.  But getting him out of the house helps his mood more than anything else, so I suffer in silence.

I'm just finishing up the dishes when Alex yells, "Your work ex-boyfriend is texting you again!"

"You must mean my ex-work ex-boyfriend," I correct him, walking back into the living room.

"I have no idea what I mean," he replies, handing my phone to me.

"Are you supporting my ex-work-romance?" I tease him, sitting down next to him.

He snorts.  "No, I already read the text when it popped up on the screen and it's clearly not romantic in nature."  I cut my eyes at him and he laughs.  "And also I trust you, and all that jazz."

I roll my eyes and open the text.  It says, "Holy shit.  You see the paper?"

"Yes, can't say I'm shocked." I text back.  I see Alex trying not to peek and I thrust my phone in front of his face.  "You can just look if you want to," I tell him, smirking.

"I don't want to!" he insists, shutting his eyes.  I laugh and hold my phone an inch from his face so his eyes cross when he opens them.  "Seriously, are you 12?" he asks, laughing.

"Says the guy who was making blow job jokes earlier," I reply, shaking my head.

"No, I believe you tragically took that pleasure away from me," he says.

I can't help it, I burst out laughing.  "It has so many meanings," I say when I finally get my shit together.  My phone vibrates in my hand, startling me enough that I drop it.  Alex tries not to laugh, but when I try to use my toes to pull it closer and end up sending it skittering across the room, he cracks up, holding his ribs with both hands.  "You're the worst," I mutter, walking over and picking it up.

"I'm the worst for laughing because you dropped your phone and then kicked it across the room?" he asks, wiping tears off his cheeks.

I don't answer, simply glaring at him instead.  I swing my feet up onto the couch, propping them against his leg, as I text back and forth with Logan for a couple minutes.  Alex takes one of my feet and starts massaging it.  "If you're trying to win back blow job privileges you're doing a great job," I inform him.

"I'm not even," he replies, shaking his head.  "Don't think everything you've done for me in the last 6 weeks has gone unnoticed.  I think you've totally earned a foot rub."  He stops abruptly, placing my foot back down on the couch.  "In another 6 weeks, I'll do the other one."

I raise my eyes from my phone and he's smirking at me.  "You're the worst," I tell him.  "I'm going out for lunch and I'm not taking you with me and I'm not bringing anything back for you."

"Finally some peace and quiet.  See you later!" he replies, fighting to keep a straight face.

I lift my phone to my ear and pretend to be having a conversation.  "Hi, Liv?  I'm going to need a shovel and an alibi."

Alex grins and leans over, grabbing my hand and tugging.  "Come here," he requests.  I shift around and settle myself carefully against his right side.  "I love you."

"I love you too," I reply.  "And I know you appreciate all the hard, agonizing work I've put in over the last several weeks.  I'll be patiently awaiting your repayment."

Alex chuckles.  "Okay, I'll keep that in mind."

I have plans to have lunch with Kendra, who has the week off work.  Alex jokingly complains about me leaving him on his own for lunch but quickly shuts up when I offer to bring him back some food.  I haven't spent much time with Kendra lately.  She was pretty sick for the first couple months of her pregnancy so she wasn't doing much.

"Hi!" I greet her cheerfully when I walk into the restaurant.  She's standing just inside the door, waiting patiently for me.  We hug briefly, because it has been that long, and I grin at her.  "You look so good," I tell her.

"I feel fat," she complains.  She smooths her shirt carefully over her itty bitty bump.  "It's just enough that I just look really bloated."

"Not a chance," I assure her honestly.

We sit down and order an appetizer, then start catching up.  I miss her, and I don't even realize it until we're sitting here talking.  Missing people is weird like that for me.

"So I just got a promotion a couple weeks ago, and I feel bad because--" Kendra starts.

"You got a promotion?" I ask, surprised.  "I had no idea!  Congratulations!"

She smiles shyly.  "I did," she confirms.  "I haven't seen you so I guess I didn't even think to tell you, I'm sorry."

"Don't be," I insist, feeling guilty for not keeping in touch with her better.  "Okay, go on."

"I feel bad because they don't know I'm pregnant.  I'm worried they're going to be pissed that I didn't tell them when they offered it to me, but I was worried they would take it back."

"I don't think that's legal," I say, shaking my head.

She shrugs.  "Even so, I didn't want them to second guess it.  Though I guess they will when I tell them, anyway."

We chat about her promotion for awhile and then I fill her in about what's new with my former job.  an hour passes really quickly and I'm disappointed when she says she has to go home to meet a contractor that's doing some remodeling on their house before the baby comes.

We hug again and I get in the car.  I'm driving home when my phone rings.  It's a number I don't recognize, and I ignore it.  It rings again as I'm walking into Alex's house.  Irritated, I answer it.  "Is this Lauren?" an unfamiliar voice asks.

"Yes, who is this?" I snap.

"My name is Jacob, and I'm a reporter for the Denver Post.  Were you recently fired or let go from your job?  I'd like to talk to you about your former company."

Lauren: Headlines

I don't tell Logan everything, of course.  I'm not stupid.  I don't say anything about the non-disclosure agreement or even that Sean got into my email account and sent the email on my behalf.  I simply fill him in on the call I got, the severance package, and the weird encounter (an edited version to not give too many details) with Sean by the bathroom.

"Sean is apparently on paid leave," Logan fills me in.  "No one really knows why, but that explains it.  If you ask me, I think he's up to even more shady stuff."

"What do you mean?" I ask curiously.

He shrugs.  "I don't know, but he's sketchy as hell.  I've thought that from day 1."

"So did I," I agree.

We both stand quietly for several seconds before Logan asks, "How's the job search going?"

"It's not, really," I admit.  "There isn't a lot out there.  At least with the severance and what I have saved, I can just apply to things I think I'd really like.  I'm not in a huge hurry anymore.  I need to check out those networking resources you sent me.  Thank you for that, by the way."

"Yeah, no problem," he replies.  "It's how I got this job.  I hope they're helpful for you."

We chat for a few more minutes, then go our separate ways.



Two weeks pass, and it's more of the same.  Job search, do some things for Alex, keep my house clean on top of it.  I spend most nights at his house, only sleeping at my own every 3 or 4 nights.  Alex is now working from home for a couple hours a day a few days a week.  He's thrilled with having a bit more to keep him busy.  He's also getting more self-sufficient and better able to use his left arm.  I'm relieved as his need for me drops a little because it means I don't have to feel bad about spending more time at my place instead of his.

Despite having my own stuff and Alex's stuff to keep me busy, plus him to keep me company, I'm going stir crazy.  I get a couple leads through one of the networking resources Logan gave me, and I apply for them and wait.  Finally, about 4 weeks after I originally walked out, I get an interview.

I relish the excuse to dress up and do my hair and makeup.  I've let myself devolve into a bit of a slob, wearing yoga pants and sweatpants and leggings far too often.  I won't even tell you how often I actually put a bra on.  You'd be ashamed, and that's fine.

Unfortunately, by 10 minutes into the interview, it's really clear to me that this isn't the company for me.  The job itself sounds great, but the three people interviewing me (one of whom would be my direct supervisor, and another is his direct supervisor) seem uptight and micromanaging, which doesn't work for me.  I confirm this by asking a question about what a typical day looks like.  I find out that lunch and break times are dictated and every minute of the day must be accounted for.  Next!

I go to Alex's house after the interview and collapse on the couch next to him.  He's playing video games, which is a fairly new thing for him, and I sit irritated and quiet until he gets to a place he can stop.  "How'd it go?" he asks.  Then he takes a second look at my face and says, "Oh, not good, huh?"

"Not good," I confirm.  "I think I need a hobby."  I've never been one for having hobbies.  I don't work out, I don't do crafts (seriously, can you imagine me crafting? I didn't think so.), I'm not artistic, and I can barely walk in a straight line without tripping over something.  Generally my own feet or, you know...air.

"I've got some hobbies for you," Alex says with a smirk.

"Yeah, I know," I say rolling my eyes.  "I guess it's about lunchtime."  Without waiting for him to respond, I stand up and stomp towards the kitchen.  I really do need to come up with some hobbies soon before I self destruct.

I hear him come into the kitchen behind me but I ignore him.  I'm standing and staring into the pantry, realizing that I desperately need to pick up some groceries, when he slips his right arm around me from behind.  "That's not what I meant," he says softly before sucking my earlobe between his lips and nibbling on it.

I sigh and close my eyes, lunch completely forgotten.  It's been almost 5 weeks since we've had any sort of sexual contact and I'm turned on the second I even feel his breath against my neck. I take a deep breath and get a hold of myself before I rip his clothes off, then turn and look at him.  I can tell by the way he's looking at me that he's just as ready to go as I am, but I ask, "Are you sure?"

"If we don't, I might die," he tells me with a totally straight face.  I laugh, because dramatic is not normally his style.  "We'll just have to be careful."

"I don't know if I have careful in me at this point, but I'll do my best," I promise.

He smirks.  "That's fine, I'll give you something else to have in you."

"You're disgusting," I say, rolling my eyes.  "Let's go upstairs."

Alex grabs my hand and pulls me upstairs, moving a lot more quickly than I'd seen him move since before his accident.  We're barely even in his bedroom when he presses his lips to mine and pulls my body against his.  He begins awkwardly pulling at my dress with one hand and I step back and tugged the zipper down then pull it over my head, then take off my tights.

Alex just stands there for several seconds, staring at me.  He does it long enough that I start to feel self-conscious standing there in my bra and underwear.  Finally he says, "You're beautiful.  Get over here and kiss me."

I gladly do, and I shiver as he runs his fingertips lightly down my spine and kisses me again.  He works to unhook my bra with one hand, fumbling like a newbie.  I laugh and say, "I can get it."

"No," he says stubbornly.  "I'm going to do it."  I bite my lip to keep from laughing, but luckily his next try frees the clasp and I shake my bra down my arms and onto the floor.  I nudge him backwards and he takes the hint and walks back until he runs into the bed.  I give him a minute to undress, lay down, and get situated, then climb onto the bed and carefully straddle his hips.  "Why are these still on?" he asks playfully, hooking a finger underneath my underwear and sliding it back and forth across my skin, making me shudder.

"Because I'm not ready to take them off," I reply, taking his hand and using all my willpower to move it away from me.  I lean down and kiss him for several seconds as I wrap my hand around him.  He's been hard since we got up here and it doesn't take much to have him panting and squirming.  I give him a short break and move so he can bite and suck on my nipples while he slides his fingers back underneath my underwear. I groan when he makes contact and let him get me close to an orgasm before I once again pull his hand away and slide down the bed.

I go down on him until he finishes, and it doesn't take long.  I wait until his grip on my hair relaxes enough that I can pull the strands free and move back up to lay next to him.  I don't even think he notices that I've moved until I start lightly running my fingertips over his chest and shoulder.  

He groans and clears his throat, then says, "Well."

"Yeah?" I reply, laughing.

"Yeah," he answers.  He shuts his eyes and is quiet for several seconds, then says, "I needed that."

"Oh good, then I guess my work here is done," I say sarcastically.  "I'll just get dressed and--"

"You'll do no such thing," he interrupts.  "I'm keeping you here naked for the rest of the day.  Now get those underwear off and come up here so I can thank you."

I lean up on my elbow and smirk at him.  "You're awfully bossy for someone who only has the use of one arm."

He reaches over, wraps that one arm around my waist, and pulls.  My body falls back against his and I'm stuck.  "If I didn't know better," he says softly near my ear, nipping lightly at my neck every couple words, "I'd think you didn't want sex."

"Mmm, well I'd hate for you to think that," I reply arching my back against him as he slides his hand beneath my underwear again.  "You know me, I just can't let everything be easy."

"I do know you," he agrees.  "And you don't let anything be easy.  But I do wish you'd take these off and come up here, because I miss the way you taste."  That was all it took for me to quit being a pain in the ass, and my underwear were off in about 2 seconds.  I carefully positioned my knees on either side of his shoulders and lowered myself to his mouth, gripping his headboard when his tongue slid against my skin.

Alex wasn't lying when he said he was going to keep me naked in his bed for the rest of the day.  We take frequent breaks and I do a vast majority of the work, but we work out some of the serious sexual frustration that has been 5 weeks in the making.  By dinner time, we we're both too dazed and tired to actually make anything, so I go down to the kitchen and come back with two bowls, two spoons, a box of cereal and the milk.

"I don't think I'm going to be able to get out of bed tomorrow," Alex groans, wincing as he works himself slowly into a seated position.  "Have you ever had sex with anyone that needed to take prescription pain meds afterwards just to function?"

"There was this old guy once..." I joke, smirking and cocking an eyebrow at him.

Alex shakes his head.  "You fucked up," he tells me.  "You could have married him, waited for him to die, collected on his life insurance and then started dating me."

"You're a horrible person," I inform him, struggling to keep the grin off my face.  "That's disgusting."

"You started it, babe," he reminds me, winking.

"Why don't people ever joke about men marrying old women for their inheritance and life insurance?" I ask.

"Because men would never stoop so low," he responds haughtily.

"You're really fucking lucky you have broken bones and shit," I tell him.  "I'll refrain from kicking your ass.  I think you're on your own tomorrow though."

"That's fine, I don't need help from you anyway," he replies.  Then I see him eyeing up the cereal box, which is on the other side of me and about 4 feet to his left.  He looks from the box to me and frowns.

"You were saying?" I ask, smirking.  He just laughs and shakes his head.  I hand him the box, then the milk.  Once we're done eating I take the stuff back downstairs then get back in bed with him.  We spend the rest of the evening laying in bed, watching Netflix.

The next morning, I'm washing dishes from breakfast and the night before, feeling much less cooped up than I had for awhile.  I'm putting dishes away when I hear Alex.

"Lauren?" he calls from the living room.  His voice sounds odd.

"What?" I yell back.

"You need to come see this."

I walk into the living room, slightly irritated at the interruption.  My irritation fades as I take the newspaper from him and see a large photo of my former office building on the front page.  I quickly scan the headline.  "Fortune 500 Company's Executives Under Fire in Sexual Harassment Cover Up."  "Shit," I mutter.  My eyes move to the sub-headline.  "Sean Condin Fired Amidst Scrutiny."

Lauren: Power Trip

I thought that I'd be nervous about being back at my old employer, but as I pull into the parking lot I'm as calm as can be.  I check my appearance in my visor mirror briefly, straighten a rogue piece of hair, then turn off my car and get out.  I'm precisely 4 minutes early.

People are starting to trickle out, leaving for the day, and I get a few a curious looks.  I wonder what kind of story Sean concocted to explain my absence.  I wonder if Logan straightened out any rumors, or contributed to them.  I could see it going either way, honestly.

Once inside, I walk straight up to the desk.  Kelly, the admin assistant sitting there, doesn't look surprised to see me so I imagine Sandra informed her I was coming.  "I'm here for an appointment with Sandra," I tell her.

"Okay," she replies placidly.  "I'll let her know you're here.  You can have a seat."  She gives me the smallest of knowing smiles at the end, but I don't return it before sitting down in the door closest to the the wing that houses HR.

I wait for over 10 minutes before Sandra comes out.  "Lauren, you're right on time," she says with an unconvincing smile plastered on her face.

"And you're not," I reply brightly, causing her fake smile to falter.

"Right, I'm sorry about that," she says, recovering quickly.  "I had something else I was finishing up."

I roll my eyes as she turns to lead me back through the twisting HR hallway to her office.  I've not spent much time over here, so the brief feeling of having no idea where we're going causes my confidence to waver slightly.  Luckily, as soon as we're in Sandra's office, it returns.

She motions to me to sit at the small round table that's in the corner of her office.  She collects a stack of paperwork and joins me.  "Did you have any questions before we get started?" Sandra asks me, handing me a pen.

"Yes, actually," I reply.  "I'd like to see the email that was sent from my account, on my behalf."

Sandra's eyes widen slightly, and she considers this.  "Fine," she answers finally.  "Let me print it.  You won't be able to take it with you, but you may look at here in my office."  She goes to her computer, clicks around a bit, and then I hear the printer in the corner come to life.  She returns to the table and hands me the page she printed.

I read over it.  It was definitely sent from my email account and it certainly does request a reduction in my responsibility due to the "overly stressful nature of my current role."  It also includes a request that all communication regarding the change in duties and job description go through Sean, as I'd like him to handle the transition so I can focus on wrapping up some of the projects I'm working on.  That explains why I never heard anything from HR about it, though it still seems strange to me.  Sean is a sneaky, manipulative bastard.

I had the page back to her calmly, even though I'm disgusted.  "Okay, I'm ready to look at the forms I need to sign."

"Great," she says, taking the first form off the stack and glancing at it, then sliding it over to me.  "This form lays out what you'll be receiving from us.  So you'll get the seven months of severance, paid biweekly on Mondays starting next Monday, and also the continued health insurance coverage, through the same 7 month time period."  She pauses and glances at me.  "Do you want to continue contributing to your 401k?"

"Absolutely," I reply.  If they're going to continue to match it, why would I turn down free money?

"So you'll need to check that box about halfway down the page.  That will continue through the seven months as well."  She pauses and waits, but I don't put my pen to the paper.  "Do you have questions?"

"I'm just reading through," I inform her.  She's out of her mind if she thinks I'm going to sign something without reading it.  "Also, I'm not signing anything until I see everything you want me to sign."

I glance up from the page to see her purse her lips briefly.  "Of course," she says, but it sounds forced.  I look back down at the form and then frown.

"All the dates on this form say 2015," I point out, sliding it back to her.

She blinks in surprise and the slightest flush creeps into her cheeks.  "They certainly do," she admits.  She looks at the next form and the pink on her cheeks darkens.  "I'll need a few minutes to fix these," she says, flipping through the other forms.

"That's fine," I say.  "I'd like to use the restroom, anyway."

Sandra directs me to the nearest bathroom, which is in a small alcove a hallway away from the main HR office hallway.  I make my way over there and use the single unisex bathroom then wash my hands.  I inspect myself in the mirror and determine that I did an excellent job picking out my outfit for this meeting.

When I walk out of the bathroom, I'm surprised to find Sean lurking in the hallway.  He looks just as surprised to see me.  The surprise on his face is quickly replaced with a sneer.  "Are you happy now?" he asks bitterly.

"Happy about what?" I ask calmly.

"About your little stunt.  I knew you were a vindictive little bitch."

"And what little stunt is that?" I reply.  I have no idea what he's talking about.

He rolls his eyes.  "Calling HR, ratting me out, landing me in all sorts of hot water.  I should have known you were up to something."

I laugh.  A full on, loud laugh as if he told a joke.  "First of all," I tell him, once I've gotten a hold of myself, "HR called me.  I didn't call HR.  Second of all, that is rich coming from you, considering you had an entire scheme to force me out of my position and into an assistant position.  I haven't quite worked out if your goal was to actually have me as your assistant or to get me to quit, but either way, it was awfully stupid of you to think you could get away with it."

He takes a step towards me and his nostrils flare.  It's not a good look for him.  I don't move, and I continue to gaze at him with a bored look on my face.  "You worthless little bitch," he sneers.  "You'll be happy to know that I'm getting transferred and demoted at best, possibly fired.  So if you're really that attached to your old job, you can take it back without worry that you'll have to look at me every day."

"Okay, Sean.  Thanks for the update!" I tell him cheerfully.  "Good luck to you!"  I slip past him and walk back towards Sandra's office.  I don't look back, but I can practically feel his eyes boring holes into my back as I walk away.  It isn't until I turn the corner that my hands start to shake slightly.  I take a deep breath and collect myself before I re-enter Sandra's office.

She smiles politely at me as I sit back down at the table.  I hope I don't look flustered.  "I've fixed the forms," she informs me.  "I'm so sorry about that."

"It's okay," I reply.  "I know how it goes."

She pushes the first form back to me, then goes through the next form, which is the release from liability.  It's identical to what she emailed me, except the dates are filled in.  I read through it again, then nod.  The next form, which probably should have been the first form, is an official notice of resignation.  The wording is changed slightly so that it says it's a "notification of dissolution of employment relationship."  Whatever you need to tell yourself, Sandra.  Then she gives me the last form, which she tells me is a non-disclosure agreement.

"I'm sorry, what?" I ask.

"A non-disclosure agreement is a legal document stating that you won't--"

I interrupt.  "I know what a non-disclosure agreement is," I say, slightly irritated.  "But this is the first I've heard of it.  And why, exactly, are you interested in preventing me from disclosing what happened?"

"We don't want anyone to get unnecessarily riled up or upset," she tells me.  "And I'm sure I mentioned it when I told you about the release."

"You didn't," I say shortly.  I read through the agreement, which lays out very carefully, in great detail, that I cannot tell anyone in the entire world--including the Pope and Jesus and the Queen of England--the details of the dissolution of our employment relationship.  Too bad I've already told several people.  She can't possibly believe that no one knows.  "I'm not signing this," I tell her.  It explains her annoyance at me refusing to sign any of the other paperwork before seeing everything.

"It's a required document," she informs me.  "The rest of the deal is void without it."

"Then I guess the rest of the deal is void," I say.  There is no way I'm signing this document that she tried to sneak in here.  I start to gather my things and put on my coat.  I wasn't planning on suing before, because my need to make a point wasn't that strong.  Now it is.  "I imagine you'll be hearing from my attorney by the end of the week."  This time I'm not bluffing.  I'm already mentally composing a text to Evan to ask him for the contact information for the employment attorney he mentioned.

Sandra lets me get my coat on and get to the door.  I turn before I leave and say, "I ran into Sean when I came out of the bathroom.  We had an interesting chat.  Tell him I said good luck."  Then I put my hand on the knob and turn it.

I barely have the door open an inch when Sandra says, "Wait.  I'm sure we can work something out."  I turn back with one eyebrow raised skeptically.  I wait silently for her to say more.  "There's a chair outside my office," she goes on hurriedly.  "Can you have a seat while I speak to our attorney?"  I nod curtly and exit the office, shutting the door behind me.

As I sit down in the uncomfortable chair outside Sandra's office, I feel a rush of adrenaline.  I shouldn't be getting so much pleasure from this interaction, but I am.  I'm kind of in awe of my ability to negotiate with this powerful woman.  It's awesome.  Maybe I really am in the wrong business.

I wait for just a couple minutes before the door opens and Sandra steps out.  "Come on in, Lauren.  Sorry about that."

I walk in without saying anything and sit back down in my seat at the table.  Sandra sits across from me.  "Will you sign a revised non-disclosure agreement that only restricts you from speaking to the media?"

The media?  Is this woman for real?  I wonder what the fuck is actually going on here.  I pause long enough to make her squirm.  "I'd like to read it," I tell her.  She hands it over and I read through.  True to her word, from what I can tell, this agreement only limits me (or anyone acting under my direction) from speaking to the media regarding the details of the dissolution of our employment relationship.  "I will sign this," I tell her.  I have no desire to talk to the media.  Actually, that's not entirely true.  I had no desire to talk to the media until she told me I can't.  Now I have a very strong desire to do so, but I know I don't want anything to do with the circus that would ensue.

The relief on Sandra's face is clear.  I re-read all the forms to make sure she didn't sneakily try to change anything, then sign, initial, and check the right boxes.  It's well after 5 by the time I leave with my copy of the forms I've signed.

I'm giddy with the excitement of the power I wielded today and I don't even notice Logan until he says my name.  He's leaning against the passenger side of my car.  "I thought this was your car," he  says.  "What are you doing here?"

"Oh, have I got a story for you," I tell him, grinning.  It's a good thing I didn't sign that original non-disclosure agreement.  Still high on my power trip, I start to tell him everything that just went down.

Lauren: Release of Liability

Couldn't leave you hanging for too long!  Happy Saturday!
____________________________

There's a long pause as Sandra collects herself.  "If you're not interested in having your job back," she says finally, speaking slowly, "I'm authorized to offer you a severance package."

Apparently she isn't terribly surprised by my threat.  Alex is watching me intently, and I wonder if he can hear Sandra at all.  "Tell me more," I say.

"I can offer you 4 month's severance pay," she informs me.  "We'd continue to pay it on the same twice monthly schedule as you received your salary while you were employed here.  In return, of course, we'd require you to sign a release of liability."

"That means I sign something saying I won't sue you," I say.

"Correct," Sandra confirms.

"Can you email me the release?  I'll have my attorney look it over when I discuss my options with him."  A little bluff never hurt anyone.  Alex cocks an eyebrow at me and I shrug.  He smirks and shakes his head.

"Um, of course," Sandra replies, sounding flustered for the first time.  I give her my personal email address and tell her I'll talk to my attorney and get back to her.

After we hang up, Alex gives me a look.  "Where are you going to find an attorney?"

"Amanda's husband is an attorney," I reply, shrugging.

Alex laughs.  "Isn't he in patent law?"

"Well, yeah," I answer.  "But I don't really need to talk to an attorney.  I'm not going to actually sue them."

"You could," Alex points out.

"I could," I agree.  "But honestly?  I just want to be done with them and move on.  I'm just not above making them sweat a little."

Alex shrugs one shoulder.  "Maybe you should at least talk to Amanda's husband."

"I can," I agree.

"So did they tell you anything?  I mean, are they firing Sean?"

I roll my eyes.  "'Those involved are being dealt with'," I tell him in a mocking tone.

"Really?" he asks, shaking his head.  "Dealt with, huh?  That shit pisses me off."

I grin.  It takes a lot for Alex to get worked up, and even though his voice isn't raised and his face hasn't changed, I know he's angry on my behalf and I appreciate that.  "Me too," I agree.  "Want to go out for lunch?"

"Yes!" he agrees, quickly and enthusiastically.  "Let's get out of here for awhile."

We go out to lunch, and because it's nice out, we wander around on a short walk.  It doesn't take much for Alex to get short of breath, but he insists on just taking a break and walking a little more.  I know he's going crazy being stuck at home.  He'd tried to get his doctor's approval to at least do some work from home but his doctor said absolutely not for at least two weeks.  He has an appointment on Friday and he's hoping they'll let him start doing some work, either from home or going into the office once or twice a week.

When he's finally too tired to wander around anymore, we head back to his house and he goes upstairs to nap.  I don't feel like job searching so I put on a movie and make myself comfortable in the spot Alex has practically worn out in the last week.  I doze off while I watch, and I wake up when Alex comes back down.  I hang out with him for a little while, then head upstairs to do a little job searching.

Around 7 I call Amanda.  "To what do I owe the pleasure of a phone call from my little sister so soon after I last saw her?" Amanda asks sarcastically when she answers.

"I actually want to talk to Evan," I tell her.

"Of course you do," she replies.  "About what?"  I quickly explain and she just says, "Huh.  Well, let me get him."

"You know I don't do legal advice over the phone," Evan says cheerfully, picking up Amanda's phone.

"I don't want legal advice," I retort, "just some brotherly advice."

"Alright, hit me."

I fill him in and he listens quietly.  He doesn't say anything until I finish, and then he asks, "What's more important to you: making a point or getting something for the shit you had to deal with?"

"'Both' isn't an option?"

"Well, you have a case, but without any proof in your hands of what you think happened, you'll spend more in legal fees than your case is probably worth," he says.  "But if you wanted to make a point, that would be the way to do it."

"So I'm better off taking the severance pay," I say.

"No legal advice, remember?  You need to figure out what's more important.  If you decide making a point is more important, I know a good employment attorney I can recommend.  If you decide taking the money is more important, send me what they want you to sign and I'll make sure you're not going to get screwed."

I get his email address and tell him I'm going to send him the release that Sandra sent me.  I thank him for his non-legal-advice and hang up, then send him the release.  He emails me back in a few minutes and lets me know it's a pretty standard release from liability and he didn't see anything too concerning in it.  I email him back a thanks and then toss my phone aside and head downstairs.

"My non-legal counsel advised me that suing is probably a waste of time and money," I inform Alex.
"If you take the severance, you can focus on just applying for jobs you'd really want," Alex points out.  "You wouldn't have to take something just to have a job."

"That's true," I agree.  "It would give me some more time to wait for something awesome.  There's not much right now."

"There will probably be more after the first of the year," Alex suggests.  I nod.  "What do you think you're going to do?" he asks.

"I think I'll probably take the severance.  I might fuck with them a little bit more first, though."

Alex laughs.  "I wouldn't expect any less of you," he says.

I end up going home for the night.  I need to pick up my mail and check on the house.  I feel a little anxious leaving Alex alone but he assures me that he could use some alone time too.  I remind myself that it's not like he can't get around and do things for himself.  I'm ridiculous.

I wait until mid-afternoon to call Sandra back.  "My attorney told me I have a case," I inform her.  That's not even a lie.  Well, the part about him being my attorney is, I guess.

"Oh," Sandra replies.  It's a calculated response.  We're both silent for several seconds.  She cracks first.  "I've be authorized to increase your severance," she tells me.

"Oh," I reply, in the same tone Sandra used.  Maybe I should have gone to law school.

"I can do 7 months severance pay, plus you'll retain the same insurance coverage with the company paying the same amount of the premium.  In addition, if you'd like to continue contributing to your 401k with the severance pay, we'll continue to match it up to 5%."  She delivers the news in a bored and businesslike tone, as though she doesn't really give a shit what I decide.  Maybe she doesn't.

"7 months?" I ask.  "That's an interesting number."  I try to match her bored tone, but in reality I'm pretty excited that my request to talk to "my attorney" got me another 3 months of pay, plus insurance and continued 401k matching.

"One month for every year you've worked for us, plus a bonus month," she informs me.

"Hmmm," I respond.  Sandra says nothing.  I grow bored of my own game finally and say, "That sounds fair to me."

"Excellent," she replies.  "When can you come in and sign the paperwork?"

I glance at the clock and see it's almost 3.  "How about 4:30?" I ask, knowing that's probably close to when she usually leaves.

"Are you available any earlier?" she asks.

"Unfortunately I'm not," I lie.

She pauses, and I swear I hear her sigh.  "Alright, I'll see you at 4:30, then.  You can ask for me at the front desk.  I'll let them know I'm expecting you."  That's right, I'll have to check in at the desk like a normal non-employee.  That will be weird.

I hang up the phone and head to the shower, needing to get ready for what I hope is my final appearance at my former employer.

Lauren: A Serious Mistake

I'm so relieved that Alex isn't upset about me quitting (or about not telling him right away, or about the text from Logan...) that I'm not even nervous about the idea of calling HR.  I really don't even think about it the rest of the weekend.

By the end of the weekend, I've practically moved in to Alex's house.  He's figured out how to manage most things with one arm by this point, and he can use the hand of his injured arm for quick, simple things like buttoning his jeans, but there are lots of things around the house he can't really do.  Of course it's all the most fun things like cooking and washing dishes.  But, unfortunately, those things are necessary so I'm helping him because despite popular opinion, I'm actually a nice person.

"You should quit your job and move in and just cook and clean for me all the time," Alex tells me on Sunday night.  I glare at him and he smirks and continues, "Oh wait, you already quit your job.  Perfect.  I can't pay you, and I can't even have sex with you, but know that I appreciate all your hard work."

"I swear I will kill you," I growl, narrowing my eyes at him.

"I don't think you will," he replies, shifting on the couch and putting his feet up.

I raise an eyebrow.  "Let's see how cocky you are when you have nothing to eat and your dishes don't get done."

He shrugs his right shoulder and says, "I only need one hand to order pizza and open the door."

"You've gotten awfully entitled with your injuries," I say, rolling my eyes.

He smirks.  "I know, I'm lucky you love me."

"You sure are," I mutter, snatching his empty water glass and striding into the kitchen to refill it.  When I come back, I hand it to him and then move his feet to sit next to him.

"Come here," he says, motioning for me to get closer.  I curl up next to him and tuck myself under his arm.  "I love you," he tells me, kissing the top of my head.  "Thank you for staying here and helping me.  You're way less annoying than my mom."

I burst into laughter.  "Really?  That's the compliment you have for me?  That I'm 'less annoying' than your mom?"

"Actually, I said 'way less annoying'," he points out.

"Mmhmm," I reply.  "And you're way less ugly than that stupid looking bird we saw the other week."

He laughs, knowing exactly which bird I'm talking about.  "I deserve that.  But a bird?  Really?"

"Shut up," I say, grinning.  "It was the best I could come up with on the fly."

"Seriously, though, thank you.  I know you're probably about ready to run me over with your car, but I really appreciate your help.  I hate needing it, but I appreciate having it."

"Don't be weird," I tell him, shaking my head.  "But you're welcome."

We cuddle on the couch and watch a movie before we head up to bed.  By this point, I'm itching for some alone time, so I decide to take a quick shower before I get in bed.  I stand under the hot water and sigh.  I know Alex needs me here and I'm happy to help him but it's really interfering with my need to be by myself sometimes.  This is why I'm not ready to move in.  I feel really shitty the second that thought pops into my head, but I can't help it.  I don't really understand how I can be so ready to spend the rest of my life with him, but not even close to ready to even move in with him.

I shake my head and turn off the water, drying off quickly.  When I come into the bedroom, Alex says, "You know, if you need some space at all while you're here, you're more than welcome to use the guest room."

My head snaps up and I look at him, wondering how he knew.  "What?"

"You know, if you need to sleep alone for a night, or want a quiet place to work while you're job searching," he replies.  "I know your alone time is important."

I narrow my eyes briefly, irritated for a second at his ability to read my mind.  Then I realize that he's basically just told me he's okay with my alone time and even me sleeping in another room, and I'm so grateful for the way he understands me.  "Thank you," I say, pulling on one of his t-shirts, which I've taken to sleeping in.  "I'm good for now, but I'll keep it in mind."

I grin and go back into the bathroom to hang up my towel and brush my teeth. When I come back, I climb into bed with Alex and snuggle up next to him.  "I love you," I say impulsively.

"I love you too, Laur," he replies, wrapping his good arm around me.

I reach over and turn off the light, grateful once again for how Alex understands me.


I don't even get a chance to call HR on Monday before I see my former job's number pop up on my phone.  I don't answer, because I'm worried it's Sean.  I don't want to talk to him.  My fingers shake a little as I dial my voicemail to listen to the message, and I shake my head at myself.  I'm being ridiculous.  It wasn't Sean, but Jamie from HR.  Her message says that she has some questions for me and asks me to call back.

I dial the direct number she left me.  She picks up after two rings.  "Hi, Lauren," she says after I tell her who I am.  "Thanks for calling back.  Was your new job description not what you were expecting?"

"Not what I was..." I start, confused.  "Well, no, I wasn't expecting a new job description at all, much less one that amounted to a serious demotion."

"I'm sorry?" Jamie sounds even more confused than I am.

"You guys wrote the new job description, did you not?" I ask, frustrated.  "Were you aware when you wrote it that I was hired as an engineer?"

"I think maybe there's been a misunderstanding," Jamie says slowly.  "I was under the impression that we wrote up the new job description at your request."

"At my request?" I parrot, not sure if I should be angry or really confused.

"Yes, we were told you had requested a change of job duties because your current work was getting too stressful."

"Wouldn't a request to change my entire job need to come from me?"

"It did."  Now Jamie sounds irritated.  "Sean forwarded us an email from you."

"An email?  I didn't send an email requesting a change in my job duties," I state.  "There has been a serious mistake."

"No, I have it right here," she insists.  "Let's see, it's from November 24th.  It says--"

"November 24th?" I practically shriek, realizing what's happening.  "That's the week of Thanksgiving?  I wasn't even in this state on November 24th, much less at work to send an email to my asshole boss."

Jamie is silent for several seconds, and I'm glad I already quit, otherwise I'd probably be fired at this point.  "But I have an email..." she says softly.

"I'm sure you do," I retort, "but I didn't send it.  I am telling you right now that I never requested a change in my job description or duties.  I quit because Sean took away my job and tried to turn me into his assistant."

"I'm going to have to do some looking into this," she says brusquely, finally pulling herself together.  "Can we call you back?"

"Whatever," I snap, irritated at this whole thing.  "I mean, yes.  Sure."

Jamie thanks me and we hang up, and I storm out of the guest room, which I'm using as an office of sorts at the moment.  "Do you want to know what that motherfucker did?" I screeched, pounding down the stairs and into the living room, where Alex is in his usual spot on the couch.

"What motherfucker?" he asks, looking at me with concern.

"Sean!  That asshole somehow wrote an email from me and forwarded it to HR, saying that my job was too 'stressful' and I wanted new job duties.  He told them that I wanted it!  And they bought it!  He sent it while we were in Georgia!"  I'm pacing back and forth and my voice is rising dangerously close to a yell.

"Wait, seriously?" Alex asks, looking shocked.  "He can't do that."

"You fucking think?" I cringe as soon as the words are out and say, "I'm sorry.  I didn't mean...I'm just really riled up."

"I see that," he replies.  "And I don't blame you.  I'm pretty pissed off about it myself.  So now what?"

"I don't know.  The HR person I talked to was awfully confused, said she was going to 'do some looking into it'," I inform him, rolling my eyes.

I'm too angry to sit down and comb through worthless job listings again, so I busy myself aggressively cleaning Alex's kitchen.  I'm on my hands and knees scrubbing the floor when I hear Alex walk in.  "I think it's clean now babe," he says gently.  "Though I have to admit I appreciate the view."

I sit back onto my feet and sigh.  "I'm just pissed that I probably did exactly what he wanted me to do," I say, tossing the rag I was using on the already clean floor back into the bucket.  "God, I hate cleaning."

I look back over my shoulder at Alex, who's giving me a sympathetic half smile.  "Come on, get up.  If you're going to be on your knees, I can think of something much more fun and productive for you to be doing."

His lewd joke has the intended effect and I laugh and get to my feet.  I walk over to him and let him wrap his arm around me.  "I just can't believe I fell right into his trap."

"Lauren, what he did was illegal.  You did what any reasonable--"  We both freeze when my phone rings.

It's my former job's number again, but this time I answer.  "Hello?"

"Hello, is this Lauren?"  It's not Jamie.  It's someone else.  I can't place the voice.

"Yes, it is," I reply shortly.

"Lauren, my name is Sandra, and I'm the head of HR.  It seems that there's been a serious mistake."

"That's what I said."

"Right. So, I apologize on behalf of the company.  Your job--your original job--is available to you whenever you'd like to start it again."

"I'm sorry?" I ask, baffled.  "Do you seriously think I want to come back there after this?  And anyway, I have questions.  How did he do it?  Was he on my computer?  I thought things looked out of place on my desk when I got back."

Sandra pauses, and I wonder if this is going at all how she expected.  "I can assure you that those involved are being dealt with and that this won't happen again," she tells me calmly.  "Now, if you'd like your job back, I'm prepared to offer you a 3% raise with it, along with all your old duties, including field work."

"A 3 percent raise?  For being forced to resign over a fraudulent email?"

"I think that's a little extreme--" Sandra starts.

"I don't," I interrupt.  Alex puts a hand on my arm but I shake it off.  "I don't want my job back.  I will never work for this company again.  In fact, I'm considering suing."

That shuts Sandra up really fast.

Lauren: Tomorrow

Happy Sunday, friends!  Keep your eyes peeled for a Kinsley post sometime during the first half of this week, and another Lauren post sometime late this week.
__________________________________

The words come out before I can really think them through, but I don't regret them.

"Excuse me?" Sean sputters, and he looks genuinely flustered.  It makes me grin, which makes him look even more confused.

"I said 'I quit'," I reply, standing.  "If you don't want me to do the job I was hired for, then I'm going to find someone who does."

Sean quickly rearranges his face back to a neutral expression and says, "Well, alright then.  Good luck to you.  You have 30 minutes to collect your things."  I think he thinks he's calling my bluff, but it's not a bluff.  "As a matter of fact, here's a box for you."  He grabs an empty box from the corner of his office and hands it to me, challenging me to take it.

I do.  I take it, smile, and say, "Thank you, Sean.  I'll be gone in 15."  I don't keep much personal stuff at work.  I just have a few textbooks, some snacks, and some personal office supplies, basically.  For a fleeting second he looks shocked, but I turn on my heel and walk out of his office before I can see how long it takes for him to once again regain control of his expression.

As I'm putting my stuff in a box, I become aware of the curious looks from around the office.  Logan walks up as I'm finishing.  "Can I help?" he asks, looking more concerned than curious.

"At your own risk," I reply with a shrug.  He glances over his shoulder towards Sean's office, then picks up my half-full box.  I grab my coat and purse and start walking towards the elevator.

Once we're safely inside the elevator, Logan turns to me.  "Did you...are you.." He stops.  There's really no polite way to ask someone if they just got fired, is there?

"No," I say, shaking my head.  "I quit.  He's trying to turn me into a fucking secretary, and I've worked too damn hard for that."  I glare at the wall as I talk.  I'm not yet regretting my move, but I am starting to get a little nervous.  More than that, I'm absolutely livid that that disgusting, chauvinistic bastard finds no value in my position as I was hired.

"What are you going to do?" he asks.  I can't even believe he's in this elevator, holding my box and having this conversation.

"I have no idea," I admit.  "I updated my resume a couple weeks ago, but I haven't actually applied for anything.  Now I'm wishing I had."

"Look," he says, shifting to face me.  "I'm a member of this networking group for structural engineers that might have some ideas.  I can send you the information."

"Thanks," I reply.  The elevator door opens and we walk out into the parking ramp.  I find my car and Logan puts my box in the backseat for me.  "Thanks," I say again, looking at him.

"Good luck," he tells me, briefly touching my arm.  I nod and get into the car, and Logan walks away.
I take a second to consider what to do next.  I still don't have any regrets.  I have about 8 months worth of rent and bills saved up, plus a sizable-for-my-age 401k that I could cash out if I needed to.  I'm not worried about money.  Not even a little bit.  I've always lived below my means.  I am worried about not working.  I enjoy working.  I like being productive.  The idea of sitting at home all day applying for jobs and doing little else makes me break out into a cold sweat.

I drive home and get right to work.  I re-read my resume for the thousandth time, make a couple small changes, and then open my internet browser.  I spend the next three hours methodically reading job descriptions, writing cover letters, and submitting my application materials.

By the time I stop to eat lunch, I've only applied for 4 jobs, but it feels like it's taken so much longer than it should have.  I remind myself that it's because I'm writing cover letters specific to the positions and tailoring my resume as well when it's called for.  Then I wonder if anyone actually reads cover letters.  Am I wasting time this way?  Ultimately, I decide that I'd rather potentially waste time and look like a well put together candidate than risk getting my resume discarded over a vague, generic cover letter.

I take a break long enough to eat a sandwich and watch a DVRed episode of Real Housewives.  It refreshes me enough to apply to 3 more jobs before I quit for the day.  I now only have about two and a half hours to make the dessert I'm bringing to Amanda's house and get ready.

I manage with 15 minutes to spare and I head over to Alex's house so I can be polite and wish his parents a merry Christmas.  Alex's dad opens the door when I knock, and Alex calls, "You know you can just walk in, right?"

"I know," I reply.  I feel weird walking in with his parents there, though.  "Merry Christmas," I say to his dad, forcing a smile.

"Merry Christmas, Lauren," he says, and it's almost warm.  Almost.  I bite back a frustrated sigh.  I will never win with them, and it's driving me crazy.

"Oh, is that Lauren?" Alex's mom calls from the general direction of the kitchen.  I roll my eyes, because of course it's me.  Alex's house isn't that big, I'm quite sure she heard his dad say, "Merry Christmas, Lauren."  Also, who else would be here 10 minutes before 5 on Christmas Eve?

Sharon walks into the living room, drying her hands on a towel.  "Hello, dear," she says, smiling just as falsely as I am.

"Hi, Merry Christmas," I say.  From the couch, Alex snorts and I shoot him a dirty look.

"Mmm, yes," she replies, as though it just occurred to her that it's Christmas Eve.  "And the same to you."  Alex looks away to hide his smirk and I just continue beaming at Sharon with my fake smile.

"Ready to go?" Alex asks me, carefully standing up.  I see him wince slightly as he does it.  Tightening his abs to stand puts pressure on his broken ribs.  Actually, just about everything does.  I hope I never break my ribs.  It sounds awful.

"I am," I tell him.  "Here."  I grab his coat from the hook next to the door and hand it to him as he walks over.  He already has his shoes on and it's clear that he's in a hurry to get out of here.  He thanks me and struggles to get his coat onto his arm that's not in the sling.  I know better than to help him, but I hate watching him struggle.  Finally he gives up and glances at his dad, who holds the coat so he can get his good arm into the sleeve.  His dad drapes the other side over his shoulder.

"This is fucking ridiculous," he mutters.  "My arm isn't broken, I don't know why I can't just use it."

"Because all the--" his mom starts, in a lecturing tone.

Alex cuts her off.  "Yes, I understand why I can't use it, I'm just frustrated."  She snaps her mouth shut and presses her lips into a thin line.  I wonder briefly if she was ever a pleasant person.  Did she ever have a sense of humor?

"I'll see you guys later tonight, okay?" Alex says, looking from his dad to his mom.  "Lauren's niece is pretty little, so I'm sure we won't be there too late.  Right?"  He looks to me for confirmation and I nod.

We leave the house and get in the car.  Alex manages his seat belt one-handed, adjusting it to not lay against his broken ribs, and I slide into the driver's seat.  He sighs in relief as he settles into the seat.  "I can't even tell you how happy I am to be out of that house," he tells me.  "Come here."  I lean over and kiss him.  When I start to pull away he grabs my hand and I kiss him again.  "I've missed you," he tells me, when he lets me go.

"I've seen you every day," I tease him, grinning as I start the car.

He snorts.  "It's not the same with them hovering around."  I glance at him out of the corner of my eye, and I can see the perma-glare that's been etched onto his face for the last several days has relaxed.  He's actually smiling.  I'm relieved that getting him away from his parents has improved his mood.  "How's work been this week?  Was Sean pissed that you called in on Monday?"

I freeze, playing off my pause as checking my blind spot before I pull onto the road.  I'm nervous suddenly, not wanting to ruin Alex's better mood by giving him my news.  "No, he wasn't even there.  It was fine," I say finally, as casually as possible.  I keep my eyes on the road, hoping that he won't be able to tell that I'm basically lying to him.

He doesn't seem to notice and he starts talking about how weird his mom acted today.  "It was like I was planning to leave the country.  Heaven forbid I leave the house for a little while."  He shook his head.  "I'll be relieved when they leave tomorrow.  Is that horrible?  Being excited for your parents to leave on Christmas?"

"I don't think it's horrible, but I'm extremely biased," I reply.  I reason away my guilt at lying about work by telling myself I'm making Alex's evening out of the house more enjoyable.  I'll tell him tomorrow.  Or, maybe not.  Tomorrow is Christmas.  I'll tell him...soon.

It doesn't take long to get to Amanda's house, and my 6 year old niece Casey flings the door open as soon as I pull into the driveway.  "Hey dollface!" I call as we get out of the car.  Casey starts to step onto the front stoop, then glances over her shoulder, makes a face, and stands impatiently inside the open doorway, waiting.  I grab the cake I'd made and my bag full of gifts and start up the walk to where Casey is bouncing impatiently.

"Merry Christmas, Aunt Lauren and Alex!" she squeals when we get close enough.

"Merry Christmas to you too, sweet girl," I reply.  My hands are full so I lean down and kiss the top of her head.  "I'll give you a hug when I put everything down, okay?"  My sister loves to joke that my niece is the only person in the world that I'll willingly show affection toward.  In the days before Alex, she wasn't wrong.

Casey holds the door open for us and Amanda appears to take things out of my hands.  Casey looks at Alex curiously.  "Why are you wearing your coat like that?" she asks, clearly puzzled.

Alex smiles as I grab the back of it so he can get his arm out relatively gracefully.  "Because I broke my collarbone and my arm is in a sling.  See?"  He points to his arm once he's free of his coat.

Her eyes get wide.  "Does it hurt?" she asks.

"A little bit," he tells her.  "But it feels better now than it did a few days ago."

"What happened?" she questions, full of curiosity.

"I fell when I was skiing," he replies.

Casey nods solemnly.  "My mom said that skiing is dangerous and people who ski are crazy."

Alex laughs, then winces.  Of course, Amanda had walked back into the room just as Casey was saying that.  "Casey!" she scolds.

"What?" Casey asks, confused in her 6 year old innocence.  "That's what you said.  You said it when we were having dinner on Tuesday.  I remember!"  Amanda's cheeks turn pink and I crack up.

Alex bends down a little and grins at Casey.  "You know what?  Right now, I'm inclined to agree with your mom."  He winks at Casey and grins at Amanda.

"Does that mean you're not going to ski anymore?" Casey asks him.

Alex smirks.  "Oh no, I will definitely ski again.  Maybe even this winter still, as soon as I'm better."

Casey makes a face and looks at me.  "Where do you find these people?" she asks, throwing her hands up dramatically.  That's enough to send me over the edge, and I sit down hard on the couch, laughing.  Alex is trying unsuccessfully to not laugh, and Amanda's face turns a shade of crimson that I don't think I've even seen on Liv's face.

"I don't," I tell her.  "They find me."  Finally Amanda laughs and Casey just looks between us, having no idea why we're laughing.  I just love the things that come out of this girl's mouth.

"Well, if there was any question about her having your attitude and lack of filter, I think we just answered it," Amanda says, once we all get it together.

"Consider yourself lucky," I say.  "I'm hilarious, and so is she."

The rest of the evening goes well.  Evan, my sister's husband, gets home shortly after we arrive, and we eat way too much and open gifts.  I went a little overboard buying gifts for Casey, and Amanda gives me more than one dirty look as Casey's pile of new clothes, toys, and books grows bigger and bigger.  "I hope this is for Christmas and her birthday," Amanda hisses at me.  Casey's birthday is Dec 30th.

I smile sheepishly.  "No, I have more for her birthday," I admit.  Amanda just sighs and shakes her head.

After gifts, we turn on A Christmas Story, and Casey snuggles up to me on the couch.  I look at Alex and say, "We can leave whenever you're ready."  He's clearly enjoying his night "out" but I can tell he's exhausted.  This is by far the most activity and excitement he's had since before his accident.

"I'm fine," he answers, a little defensively.  I cock an eyebrow and he sighs.  "I'm tired, you're right.  But I'm not ready yet."

"Okay," I reply.  "Just let me know."  He finds my left hand with his right and our fingers wind together automatically.  Between his injuries and his parents, this is the most physical contact we've been able to have in nearly a week.  I'm surprised to find that I wish I could tuck myself under his arm and lean against him.  I'm also feeling seriously sex-deprived, but I'm trying to get used to it because I have a feeling it will last awhile.

We leave about 30 minutes later.  In the car, Alex says, "Will you stay tonight?"

"Your mom will have a fit.  And I don't have clothes or anything."

"We can stop at your house.  And I don't care if she has a fit.  I really want you to stay."

I have to admit that I miss spending the night with Alex.  Sex completely aside, it's hard to go from spending at least a few nights a week together to sleeping alone all the time.  Ugh, who am I?  "Okay," I agree.  "But you have to handle your mom."

"I will," he assures me.  "Speaking of handling my mom, you've done a really amazing job of being nice to them, even though they've been pretty awful to you.  Thank you."

"They haven't been awful.  They've just not been nice."

"That's way more than bad enough," he replies, shaking his head.  "They haven't been downright rude to you, but they've made it pretty clear they'd prefer for you to not be around.  That pisses me off."

"I can tell," I say, smirking.  "You haven't exactly been pleasant to them."

"They haven't earned my pleasantness," he retorts.

Alex's mom must be tired of fighting him, because she says nothing when he informs her I'm spending the night.  She gives him a withering look, but that's it.  She turns to me and politely asks if I would like to join them for Christmas brunch before they leave.  "Thank you for inviting me," I tell her sincerely, "But I'll go home in the morning and let you guys enjoy Christmas brunch with your son."  Alex gives me a weird look but his mom smiles, the first genuine smile she's worn since this whole mess started.

"Thank you," she replies.  

Alex and I go straight upstairs to get ready for bed.  He's exhausted and it's obvious.  He groans as he lays down and I let him get settled before I climb in next to him and pull up the blankets.  I'm laying on his right, which is the opposite of how we usually sleep.  It's throwing me off, and I wiggle around, trying to get comfortable before I settle next to Alex.  "Why did you say no to brunch?" Alex asks curiously.

"Consider it my Christmas gift to your parents," I reply.

"Speaking of Christmas gifts, I haven't had a chance to get you anything," Alex tells me.  "I'm sorry."

"You've been a little busy," I point out.  "And to be honest, I was going to get your gift on Sunday, and with everything that happened, I completely forgot.  So I don't have anything for you either.  Let's not even worry about it, okay?"

"Sounds good to me," he agrees.  I get settled, carefully resting my head on his chest and pressing the rest of my body against his side.  He wraps his right arm around me and sighs softly.  "I've missed this."

"I have too," I admit, snuggling a little closer.

"What?" he asks in mock surprise.  "You've missed physical contact and affection?  I don't believe you."

"Shut up," I say, laughing.  "I have.  I've also missed your sense of humor, so I'm glad to see it's back."  Getting him out of the house, even for a couple hours, was clearly necessary.  "I love you, Alex."

"Awwwww," he says, still teasing.  I roll my eyes and shake my head against his chest.  "I love you too, Laur.  Thank you for braving my parents to be here with me this week."

I nod and yawn.  In my sleepy, relaxed state, I almost blurt out that I walked out of my job today.  But I don't.  Now's not the time; I don't want to ruin this moment.  Tomorrow.  I'll tell him tomorrow.

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."

Lauren: Cookies and Wine

Hi friends!  If you didn't see that I posted yesterday, make sure you scroll down and read that one first.  I'll have quite a few posts coming this week for you!
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I sit at my desk at work, feeling annoyed by the entire day.  My client is officially passed off to Logan.  When I called to let them know, the client seemed confused and a little unhappy.  I'd be lying if I said I'm not a little pleased by that.  Not because I want it to go poorly for Logan--because I don't--but because it means that I've done a great job with them.  And maybe because I feel a little vindicated, as well.

Training Logan had been interesting.  He'd actually stopped hitting on me and intentionally trying to make me uncomfortable nearly completely.  He still makes a little quip here and there, but it feels more like a joke and I'm way more comfortable with it.  He's just generally been a lot more respectful, and I appreciate that.  It was bad enough having to train him to take over the best part of my job, I might have run someone over with my car if I'd had to suffer through his impertinence on top of it.

Anyway, I'm sitting at my desk being annoyed.  It's Friday and I'm working on a stupid, pointless busywork project given to me by Sean.  I want to tell him that he's wasting my skill-set, but I know that won't help me.  I'm also jealous because Alex isn't at work.  Instead, by this point he's on his way to Winter Park to go skiing with the guys.  I don't want to go skiing, but I'd kill to not be at work.

Alex suggested last week that I update my resume and start applying for new jobs.  I've been miserable lately and he's getting the brunt of it.  I feel shitty about it, but I've never been unhappy at work so I don't really know how to deal with it.  I did update my resume, but I haven't actually applied for anything yet.  Actually, I haven't even looked.  This was my first real world job after college, and just thinking about writing cover letters and interviewing makes me want to vomit.

"Almost finished with that report?" Sean asks from behind me, startling me.

I take a second to force my face into a neutral expression before I turn.  "Almost," I reply.  It's true, but I could have been done an hour ago.  I was purposely working slowly because I didn't want any other stupid projects assigned to me so close to the end of the day.

"Great," he replies.  "So, when's the wedding?"  He motions to my left hand.  I've finally gotten my ring resized so I can wear it on my left hand, but it's proven to be awfully confusing for people.  I don't care.

"We haven't decided yet," I answer, not willing to tell him that there is no wedding.

"Your fiancé must love you quite a bit, that's an impressive ring." I had to fight to keep from rolling my eyes.  "How big is that emerald?  Looks like it's close to 2 carats."

"I have no idea," I respond, not at all surprised by his brazenness.  How fucking rude.

He grins.  "Well, I'll let you get back to work."  Finally.  He turns and walks back to his office, just a few steps behind me.  I hate this cube.  I hate it more than anything.

I wrap up my project and get it to him about 20 minutes before the end of my workday.  I spend the last 20 minutes dicking around in my work email, pretending to be busy.  Finally it's 5, and I can leave this hellhole.  I hate how quickly my job went from something I enjoyed to something torturous.

I stop at the liquor store on my way home.  While the guys are all in Winter Park skiing, Kinsley, Kendra, Liv, and I are going to bake cookies and drink wine tonight, then do a little last minute Christmas shopping tomorrow.  Liv has the most room, so we're all heading out there tonight after work.  Liv and Kinsley are providing all the cookie making ingredients, Kendra is picking up Thai food, and I'm charge of bringing the wine.  I'm actually pretty excited for this, it's been awhile since we've gotten the girls together for something so laid back.

After much text debate, we had realized that it made the most sense for Liv to just pick us all up on her way back home after work.  She's just gotten a new car, a brand new Toyota Highlander, and it stinks.  I really hate that stupid new car smell.  But it's really nice inside, and even I can appreciate that.

We collect the rest of the group and head out of the city.  Kinsley, who is sitting in front, insists on finding Christmas music on the radio, which Liv quickly shoots down.  Liv hates Christmas music before Christmas Eve.  "You're such a grinch," Kinsley grumbles.

"I'll have to listen to it all day tomorrow," Liv protests.  "Don't make me listen to it now too."

"You're so weird, even I like Christmas music," I chime in from the back seat.  Everyone laughs at that, because it's true.  I don't like many things.

Once we're inside, Liv turns on the fireplace.  "Brody likes it to be freezing in this house," she complains.  "I'm so excited that he's gone for the whole weekend so it can be a reasonable temperature in here.

I promptly sit down on the floor to pet Eddie, who sits right next to me, then lays sideways over my legs.  "You're ridiculous," I say to him.  He just stretches further over my legs and lets his tongue flop out of his mouth.  Kinsley wrinkles her nose--she's not a pet lover.  I feel like people would expect that of me, not her, but she definitely is not a fan.

"Eddie, let's go out!" Liv calls.  He lifts his head and gives her a disdainful look, then closes his eyes and pretends to ignore her.  "Eddie!"

I stop petting him and he lifts his head again and looks at me with big, imploring eyes.  "Nope," I tell him.  "Listen to your person.  I'll pet you more later."  With a big, exasperated sigh, he hauls himself up and pads over to the door.

"Some guard dog you have there," Kendra teases.

"Oh, he can be really scary," Liv assures her.  "The UPS man leaves packages in the middle of the driveway most days because he won't get close enough to the house to leave them on the porch."

Liv gets busy pouring wine (and the sparkling cider I picked up for Kendra, because every once in awhile I'm thoughtful) while I wash my hands and Kendra gets the food out.  Kinsley regards Kendra carefully.  "You can't even tell that you're pregnant," she says.

"Well, I'm not even three months pregnant yet," Kendra points out.

"Wait a second..." I say, the wheels in my head spinning.  "Oh my god.  Did you get pregnant at Liv's wedding?"

Kendra snorts.  "Well, not at the wedding," she replies, rolling her eyes.  "That would have been inappropriate.  But it's possible that I got pregnant after her wedding."

"Lauren, you can't just ask people when they had sex," Liv chimes in.

"I didn't!" I protest.

"You basically did," Kinsley replies.  "You do know where babies come from, right?"

We all laugh at that, and Eddie looks confused when he comes back in.  "I'm used to it by now," Kendra assures us.  "And let's be real, Lauren has no qualms about talking about people's sex lives."

"We're all friends here," I say, shrugging.  "So Liv, how's married sex?  Is it as awful or non-existent as people would like us to believe?"  I smirk as Liv turns pink.  I love to harass her about sex.  She can be such a prude about talking about it.

"It's great, thanks.  Even better, actually," she retorts.

Kendra smirks and says, "Hello?  Clearly it's still existent."  She points to her completely flat stomach and wiggles her glass of sparkling cider at me.  "You do know where babies come from, right?"

We laugh again, and it feels so good to be hanging out with them and having fun.  I manage to forget all about the bullshit happening at work.  "Guys, why did we stop doing this regularly?" I ask, taking a big bite of my pineapple fried rice.

Kinsley shrugs.  "We all got so busy with our own stuff.  You're right, though.  We need to do this regularly.  Every month, maybe?"

We agree to that and finish our food.  Then we get to the cookies.  Even with the size of Liv's kitchen, we're constantly getting in each other's way.  That increases as we open our fourth bottle of wine, and soon we're just sitting on the couch eating cookie dough.  Well, Liv, Kinsley, and I are.  Kendra is popping chocolate chips into her mouth because salmonella.  Whatever.

"We shouldn't even bother baking these," Kinsley says.

Kendra shakes her head and wrinkles her nose.  "You guys are disgusting.  I'm baking some of these cookies so I can actually eat them."

"You'll have to pry this bowl out of my cold, dead hands!" Kinsley challenges her, grinning.  In the end, we end up baking what's left of the cookies. We honestly probably ate half of the raw dough.  No regrets.

Kendra ends up in bed shortly after eating a couple warm, gooey cookies.  Apparently being pregnant makes you really tired.  She opts to take the downstairs guest room in hopes that we won't keep her awake with our drunken shenanigans.

Turns out she has little to worry about.  Instead of getting ridiculous, we end up curled up on the couch, passing the last bottle of wine around (because we're classy as hell) and talking about relationships and marriage and babies.

"So is Alex okay with not ever getting married?" Kinsley asks me curiously.

"I think so," I reply, shrugging.  "I mean, he said he was.  One time he said if it was up to him he'd like to get married, but he'd rather be not married and with me than married to someone else."

"You guys have the strangest relationship, but it works for you."

"Like you should talk?" Liv crows.  "Your relationship is weird too."

"So is yours!" I exclaim.  "You guys never even see each other."  We all dissolve into drunk giggles and admit that we all have our weird relationship things.  I look at Liv.  "Are you guys going to have kids?"

"Someday," she says.  "Not yet.  We both want Brody's schedule to be more reasonable and predictable first.  He's actually making a bunch of changes at work to make it happen, so we'll see.  I'm thinking not for a couple years though.  We both have things we want to do first."

We both look at Kinsley.  "What?" she asks, confused.

"Have you and Damien talked about the future?" I ask.  "Marriage, babies?"

Her eyes widen slightly and she shakes her head.  "No, not really.  I mean, yeah, a little in general terms.  But we're both really happy with how things are right now.   I think about it sometimes, though.  I love watching him with his niece and nephew.  It makes me think about him being a dad, you know?  I'd kind of given up on having kids of my own, but I think I'd like to have kids with him if everything works out."

"He'd be a good dad, I think," Liv says, nodding.

I yawn, quickly setting off yawns all around.  Kinsley and I are sharing the guest room on the main floor, and we head in that direction while Liv turns off the lights and fireplace.  Eddie gets up from his bed near the fireplace and follows Liv over to the door so she can let him out one last time for the evening.

I wake up to the smell of breakfast, and find Kendra in the kitchen cooking.  I'm surprised no one else is up, but neither of them take much longer to make their way down to the kitchen.  We eat breakfast and get ready to go out shopping.  I don't know how I let myself get talked into braving the crowds to shop the weekend before Christmas, but here I am.

Despite the crowds, we have fun.  But I'm definitely still relieved when Liv drops me off at home and I can kick off part two of my weekend: the "me time" part.  I start by immediately ditching my jeans and sweater for fleece pajama pants and a hoodie.  Then I order a pizza.

I've been parked on my couch for several hours when my doorbell rings.  I ignore it.  If I'm not expecting you, I generally don't answer the door.  If you can't be bothered to call me before you stop by, I can't be bothered to get off the couch to let you in.

Seconds later, my phone vibrates.  I look and I have a text from Liv.  It says, "It's me.  Let me in, please."  

I haul myself off the couch, unlocked the door, and pull it open.  "You know, you really should call first," I say grumpily.  I'm about to say more, but the look on Liv's face stops me.  "What?" I ask, getting nervous.

She slips past me to step inside, then turns back to me.  She touches my arm gently and says,  "Lauren, we're going to Winter Park.  Alex is in the hospital."