Neanderthal Seeks Human(8)

“Who puts the condom wrapper back in their pocket?” Sandra, a feisty redhead with a mostly concealed Texan drawl, pursed her lips, her brows rising expectantly as she glanced around the room. She was a psychiatry resident at Chicago General and liked to refer to herself as ‘Dr. Shrink’, “I mean, hola Señor Dumb Ass.”

“Exactly.” I nodded as did everyone else in the room, feeling slightly vindicated.

“I think you’re better off without him.” Ashley didn’t lift her blue eyes from her scarf as she offered her thoughts; her long, straight brown hair was pulled into a clever twist. She was a nurse practitioner originally from Tennessee and I loved listening to her accent; “I never trust a Jon without an ‘h’. John should be spelled J-o-h-n, not J-o-n.”

Sandra pointed at Ashley and added, “And his last name: Holesome. It should be ‘Assholesome’ or ‘Un-holesome’. He’s a turd.”

“I think we should ask Janie how she feels about the break up.” Fiona’s pragmatic assessment was met with agreement. A mechanical engineer by training, a stay at home mom by choice, Fiona was really the leader of the group; she made everyone feel valued and protected. She owned a commanding presence even at a mere five feet tall. Her small impish face, large heavily lashed eyes, paired with the practical pixie cut made her look like a fairy. Both Elizabeth and I knew her from college; she was the Resident Advisor in our freshman year dorm, ever the mother hen.

I shrugged as all eyes turned to me. “I don’t know, I don’t really feel all that mad about it, just... annoyed.”

Marie peered at me over her half knit sweater; “You seemed pretty shaken when I arrived.” I met her large blue eyes before she continued, “Between Jon and losing your job, I think you’re more upset then you want to admit.” Marie was a free-lance writer and artist; I envied how her blond curls always seemed to behave; every time I saw her it was like she’d just finished shooting a shampoo commercial.

I sighed, “It’s not that. I mean, yeah- I wish I hadn’t lost my job because now I have to find another one. But, it’s not like I was really able to do what I wanted there. I went to school to become an architect, not to become a staff accountant at an architecture firm.”

“At least it was at a firm; jobs are scarce.” Kat- the most soft spoken of the group- shook her head full of brown waves. I introduced Kat to Elizabeth when I discovered her passion for knitting. Kat also worked at my company-

Scratch that, ex-company

- as an executive administrative assistant to two of the partners; “But they are going to miss you, Janie. You were, by far, the most competent of the business group.”

“Do they always give their terminated employees limos for the afternoon?” Ashley asked Kat with plain interest.

“Not that I’ve ever heard of. But then layoffs have always happened in groups of five or more.” Kat wrinkled her nose, “It does seem extremely strange; I’ll look into it.”

I wondered at the limo as well. The whole day bordered on ridiculous so, in comparison, the limo and Vincent seemed like a minor bump on my roller-coaster of anomalies.

“Do you have any idea why they did it? Why they let her go?” Sandra reached for her red wine, directing her question at both me and Kat.

“No, but I’ll try to find out what I can.” Kat lifted her brows as she slid a gaze laced with suspicion in my direction, “Although, I heard that you were escorted out by one of the security guards from downstairs. Is that true?”

I nodded, becoming suddenly uncomfortable and pointedly studying my wine glass.

“Wait, what? Security?” Elizabeth suddenly sat forward, she placed a hand on my arm, “Who was it?”

I took a swallow of the wine and lifted my shoulders in a non-committal shrug. “Uh, just one of the guards.”

The room was quiet as I tried to sink farther into the couch. Suddenly Elizabeth started bouncing up and down, throwing her knitting to the side, “Oh. My. God. It was him, wasn't it? It was HIM!” Her blond ponytail wagged back and forth.

“Who is him?” Sandra stopped knitting at this point, her arms were crossed over her chest as she looked from me to Elizabeth to Kat, her large green eyes darting around the room like a ping pong ball.

Elizabeth stood up abruptly and ran to her kitchen, “Wait! I have a picture!”

My eyes widened as I watched her go; I called after her: “What do you mean you have a picture?”

All knitting abruptly ceased. The last time they all stopped knitting mid-row was because a good looking pizza guy arrived and they all wanted to give him the tip. Everyone started talking at once, their chatter trailed off as Elizabeth reentered the room with her phone and flopped down on the sofa next to me.