Chapter 8

He worked for his dream, and I went kicking and screaming to Baltimore. How do you figure we both get permanent job offers doing just what we wanted? Neither of us could have asked for anything more. Bill got EXACTLY what he aimed for, and I wanted something to teach me about the travel industry, advertising and promotion with a goal of my own agency. I was on my fast track. Whether we would keep the same arrangements of the long commute for Bill depended on what kind of hours he would have at the magazine. One thing we did know for sure. Now was not the time to worry about it. The scenario, as of this moment, was that we would get married the spring after graduation, and probably live in Baltimore, or perhaps a little closer to New York. But nothing was caste in stone.

On Friday morning I was excited at work, on edge, knowing I was to get my offer that day. I began my day as usual, going to Legal and picking up all the "clearance approval" folders for distribution to the ad and script people. I opened the "Question" folder and asked the secretary for a clarify clerk, who was usually an interning law student. He verbally explained any red lined words or wording in that work. If something was misunderstood, he usually OK'ed it after I clarified to him and he noted it for the Legal team. Otherwise I took a note or two to explain to the ad and script teams. It hadn't taken me long to learn ad and script "language", being able to allay literal problems Legal might have. Then I was off to see project managers to get progress reports on existing jobs so I could report to Miranda what was on target, and not, and why. Then I usually spent the rest of the day sitting in with project managers taking part in set ups and presentations, plus I was usually either prepping or doing some sort of presentation with the intern team that I headed. It may not sound like much, but it was a busy day and I usually walked, what seemed, a couple miles in that long two-story building. Just after lunch, Miranda had me paged and I went upstairs excusing myself from my work. She met me in the hallway with a big smile on her face. "The Mr's Arens and I want to meet with you." She said knowing I already knew what was coming down.

In the meeting I felt self-conscious because of all the nice things they said about me. As they spoke of how mature I was and keeping focused when the pressure was on,... I thought about my tantrum at school where I kicked the crap out of my telephone and was going to run away. My way of being self-deprecating; I don't accept praise or ridicule very well.

The job as Miranda's executive assistant was mine with few caveats. Obviously I had to keep my up grades, and they had a few other credit courses they wanted me to add. While originally I thought I may have enough free time to work a part time job in my last year, that wasn't going to happen now, but they were also picking up my tuition for the last year. That meant that I would have to sign a contract and commit to staying here for 18 months. They gave me all kinds of paperwork and told me to get a lawyer to protect myself, and have everything spelled out before I put my name on anything.

Then Mr. Arens, I forget which one it was, Robert or John, launched into this long story about a conglomerate that bought a resort in the Bahamas. They had never owned or managed properties before, but now after finding success, they were in negotiations to buy four more properties in the islands chain and 3 others here on the mainland. He couldn't say who it was, but he obviously wanted their business. Our people were working at getting it, right now, with prospectus and presentations about the what, how, and why Arens and Ponds could do them right in the selling and promotion of the chain to US Postal Patrons and targeted newsletters. He asked me, as a way to get experience, and to show what sort of ideas I might come up with in the situation, to prepare a mock brochure and newsletter that would go to known travelers, and a general mailer that would go to targeted income brackets. He would give me 20 intern hours, and 4 billable hours (to his account) of company resources. They said I had 13 days left before I left to go back to school, and would like to see the finished product before I left. More than anything, this was a grade-less test to see where I was creatively, and how I could manage hours and people.

Silent Sister, the third Arens family member in the partnership, who was never at the office, and never really identified, was on speakerphone for the whole meeting. She only made interjectory comments during the talk. Once finished with the explanation, she piped up from the phone, "Of course, you will still get all of your regular duties done while putting this together."

I hated her already and I had never met her, I thought to myself, smiling. Miranda had met her once and knew a few things about her, but mostly the sister partner was silent and had little to say of the day-to-day operation, obviously why they called her Silent Sister.

I rushed home that day, got on the phone and told my parents the news. I forgot I was going to have to listen to more praise, but I took it well from Mom and Dad. Then I did something a little out of the ordinary, I called Bills parents and told them my news. I figured if anyone could put a negative spin on this they could. However, they both got on the phone together and told me how proud they were of me, and how they loved and supported me. This was praise that was easy to take. Then just as I was about to say goodbye Mrs. Wilson asked me "Is this one of those progressive companies that has a day-care center right there to take care of your kids, so you don't have to farm them out?"

I was a little stunned but said that I didn't know, but would look into it.

I hung up the phone and looked out on the park. Mommies pushing carriages and Daddies playing catch with their sons were all I could see.

Had Bill told his parents they would have grandchildren soon? Did Bill want to have a family right away? I thought we talked about this, but his parents seemed to expect grandchildren real soon. I couldn't have kids yet. I had to jump start my career, fulfill my contract, finish school. Surely they had to know I would finish school. How seriously had they taken our living arrangement? We acted married, yes, but we weren't going to have kids yet.

I drove myself crazy with all of these questions, wondering what Bill expected from us, and what he told them. He was proud of my accomplishment, but he didn't really want me barefoot and pregnant, did he?

It was a nice night so I thought I would get a cold drink from the fridge and sit on the porch to wait for Bill. Bill's bucket of Champagne splits was still on the bottom shelf, so I filled it with a little ice and took the bucket outside. I sat on the porch for almost 2 hours waiting for Bill, managing to knock off 3 bottles and then falling asleep. I must have been a sight.

"Carree? Carree... CARREE!" I heard in my ear.

"What?" I answered groggily. "Leave me alone, wake me for work."

"Carree, it's 8 damn o'clock and you're smashed on our porch! WAKE UP! Don't make me make a scene out here." Bill said.

I was out of it but coming back to reality. I really wasn't drunk, just smooth on the edges. I let the stress of the day slide off my champagne addled mind. My biggest problem was that I fell into a deep sleep. I had even been dreaming.

"Carree!! Come on!!" Bill said as he shook my arm.

"Leave me alone!!" I countered. "Let me wipe the cobwebs here, give me a second!"

"Come on Carree, you're drunk and carrying on. Now come inside." Bill said pulling on me.

If steam could actually come out of your ears, I could have powered a locomotive.

I snapped awake to make a point. "God DAMN it Bill, I am NOT drunk. I may have let the alcohol put me to sleep, but I am not drunk so leave me to fuck alone. LET ME WAKE UP." I was still clearing the cobwebs and sorting my dream from the reality of being on a porch in Baltimore Maryland.

"Fuck you, I'm going inside. Make a fool of yourself, I don't care." Bill said stomping inside the outer door.

I expected to look around and see people on the street staring at me, or my pants wet or something. I looked at myself and my clothes weren't askew. Yes I was sound asleep out there with 3 emptys beside me, but I was on MY porch on a hot afternoon after work. No one was on the street. What was the big deal?

I put together my empties and the bucket with 2 cold ones left and went inside.

Bill was sitting in the easy chair staring at the TV news. I decided to be apologetic, even though I didn't think I needed to be.

"Billy, I'm sorry I fell asleep on you out there. I wanted to be awake and bright eyed when you got here, but you were late tonight." I said sing-songy.

"Don't give me that bullshit Carree, you were drunk out there, then raising your voice and carrying on when I tried to move you." Bill insisted.

"Bill, I may have had too much to drink, but it wasn't like I pissed my pants and puked in the street. I was tired, had a couple drinks sitting in the hot sun. I fell asleep. Excuse me." I said with an attitude. "And," I continued, "You can apologize for saying Fuck You to me, out in public, on the street."

"Don't hold your breath. You embarrass me like that and I have to kneel down to you? Forget it." Bill said with my attitude and more.

"What is going on here Bill? Did you have a bad day or what? Don't take this shit out on me. I had a good day. I was offered the job, as promised. I just have to get a lawyer to look over the papers for what I have to do for them, which is basically stay there for at least 2 years after graduation." I said in hopes of ending our little tiff.

"I bet if they saw you out there on the porch tonight they would be real proud of you, portraying a great image for their company." He said, still pissed.

Then Bill hit one of the things I really hated to hear any couple do, threaten.

"I ought to put you over my knee and redden your ass, Carree. You're supposed to be my beautiful bride to be, and you're out there like a slob slut getting drunk."

He had raised his hand to point to emphasize what he was saying, and I slapped his hand right away and got right in his face.

"Listen, any talk of ass reddening will get you a ticket to the couch for a long time. You don't dare even think of raising a hand to me, or I will kick your ass up and down the street and you don't want to find out if I can do it or not!!" I shouted at him nose to nose.