Chapter 2: Locked Out

Monday, at work, was uneventful for Trisha. She was surprised. Over the past six months or so, her boss had been continuously vindictive toward her — assigning her the menial of tasks and micro-managing everything she did. That was one of the straws that finally broke Trisha's proverbial back and convinced her to leave her city job. The pay was okay; the users were nice; her manager and other team members were unbearable at times and only tolerable at others.

Because Mark had chosen to work the weekends while on third shift, he had Monday and Tuesday nights off. Every Tuesday he had lunch with his best friend, unless one or the other had a better offer, of course. Mark and John had been friends throughout school but then lost contact after their high school graduation. A few years later, they both started working for Ace Alarm and immediately reconnected. John stood up for Mark at his wedding, and kept him strong during his divorce. It was only natural then, when Mark had recommended that John talk with Trisha about an IT position that he would do it. But, Mark also knew that his recommendation alone would not have gotten John to create the position for Trisha; she must have impressed John the way she impressed him.

Tuesday at 11 o'clock Mark's phone rang. He looked on the caller id and recognized it immediately.

"Not calling to bug out of the lunch you owe me, are you," Mark chided, not even saying 'hello'.

"I'm not going to be the one bugging out of lunch when you hear why I called," John countered, just as if the two men had been in this conversation for a while.

"What's up?" For John to skip a lunch, it must be serious. Or, Mark smirked, it was John's wife, Denise.

"I'm going to give you a phone number and I need to you call it right away."

"What's with the mystery, John?" Mark began, just a bit impatiently. "You know I don't like twenty questions, so give."

"I just got off the phone with Trisha Langtry," John began.

"Oh?" Mark's curiosity was piqued.

"I thought that might get your attention. Listen, she called me - something about her boss locking her out and her wanting to start working for me early. I don't mind that, but she really sounded upset. When I told her she could start Thursday, she sounded better, but I'm still not comfortable leaving her to her own devices until then. I just didn't like the way she sounded on the phone. From what you told me about her working conditions with the city, she might be too vulnerable right now to leave her alone. I thought, since you had a rapport with her, you might be able to get her to see more of the bright side of her future?" John knew what he was doing. He knew that his friend was having feelings for this woman and John was more than happy to help push them along. Turnabout was fair play; Mark had introduced John to Denise and then pushed John into asking Denise out. Now, close to twenty years later, John was happy to extend the same helping hand. It was about time that his friend started to see the bright side of his future, as well.

John proceeded to give Mark more details about his phone conversation and he ended with giving Mark Trisha's cell phone number.

Trisha was sitting in her car at the entrance to one of the city's many parks. She had already gone for a walk to relieve some of the stress before calling John. She was relieved when he was willing to let her start early. He made it sound like she was doing him a favor when she knew it really was the other way around. She felt lost and alone and she hated feeling that way. She knew she had friends she could call, but they were all working right now and she really didn't want to disturb them at work. Besides, she knew the more she talked about what happened the more she would cry; and she hated when she cried.

Trisha's cell phone rang, breaking her out of her self-pity for a moment. She didn't recognize the number, so she let it go to voicemail; she didn't want to talk to anyone right now. As soon as her phone beeped, she connected to her voicemail and listened to the message. As she was listening, tears started to well up in her eyes. Almost as if on auto-pilot, she started her car and drove. When she pulled into the driveway of her destination, she wiped her eyes and walked to the door.

Before Trisha could ring the doorbell, the front door swung open. Mark led Trisha into the living room and over to a large overstuffed sofa. He didn't even let Trisha take her coat off. As soon as they were seated, Mark wrapped his arms around Trisha and cradled her to his chest while she began to cry all over again. He didn't say a word; he just held her and rocked her in his arms until her tears subsided.

"So," he began softly when she had calmed down, only slightly loosening up his grip on her, "how far have you walked so far today?" During their weekend conversations, Trisha told Mark that she enjoyed walking during her lunch and whenever she was frustrated — she even had selected certain music she only listened to while walking that seemed to calm her down and de-stress her.

"Only three miles, so far," she replied, calming her voice and breathing in the process. Trisha couldn't help but feel safe in his arms. It had been a long time since she felt this way. She understood, as only she could rationalize, that this would probably not last forever, so she wanted to enjoy it while she could.

"You know, if you ask nice, I might be able to scare up something for lunch," Mark teased. He didn't really want to move right now, but didn't want to make Trisha feel uncomfortable by holding her longer than he should.