My Former Self (6 page)

Winter 2010

“T
onya? Are you still here?” I hear Deb call from room B.

“Yeah, what do you need?”

“Can you grab me some more protectors? I forgot to get them earlier.” In addition to being a receptionist, I am occasionally an assistant to the hygienist it seems.

I bring them in to Deb who is working on an elderly gentleman. “Thanks Ton. By the way, are you coming to the Christmas party? I sent out the e-mail but I didn’t get your response. I have to let the bar know our numbers.”

“Yes, I am planning on it. If it’s too late, I’m okay with not going.” In fact, I would be more that okay with not going.

“Are you crazy? Of course it’s not too late. You’re coming and it’ll be a blast!”

I go back to my desk and continue what I was doing. A woman approaches my desk and asks if she can borrow the phone. We typically don’t allow people to use our phone, but I figure it’s near the end of the day and no one will really notice.

She dials her number and starts talking. I instantly regret letting her use the phone. Her voice is loud and the conversation makes me uncomfortable.

“I know, Ty, of course I did. Don’t start on that again. It’s enough that I had to entertain your family all weekend and now you’re actually going to give me grief about
this
?” A middle-aged man in the reception area looks at me almost as if to suggest that I should get her off the phone. The woman resumes her conversation—even louder than before. “I am not doing it and that’s the end of it!” And then she slams down the receiver. She doesn’t look at me. She simply sits down and grabs a magazine. I’m sure that’s why we’re not supposed to let people use the phone—to avoid overhearing private and awkward conversations.

I can’t help but feel fortunate that I don’t have to live with anyone—or entertain anyone’s family. I remember Sandy telling me that she and Dale’s family didn’t really see eye to eye on a lot of issues. She said her mother-in-law at the time was overbearing and opinionated. One time she tried to convince Sandy to be a stay-at-home-mom, insinuating that she wouldn’t really be the best mother if she went back to work when Anna was only a year old. Dale wouldn’t stand up to his mother either, no matter how intrusive she was being. She got frustrated with that; Dale would complain about his mother to Sandy, but never confront her to her face no matter what the issue. When they broke up, Sandy said that that was the one part of everything she wasn’t going to miss.

Dr. Roerke comes out to reception bringing through the last client of the day.

“So Tonya, remember Aaron? He was the man I introduced you to about a month ago. Anyway, he asked me if I thought you’d like to go out. What do you think?”

This again.

“I don’t know. I mean, it might be a little awkward—especially after you guys put me on the spot last time.”

“Tonya, I think you should. He’s pretty charming!” Cindy pipes in, illustrating that she is listening to the whole conversation from the other room.

“Fine, I’ll meet him for coffee.” In order to make them quit harassing me, I’ll go and have a coffee. To me this seems the lesser of two evils.

I can’t believe I agreed to this. What was I thinking? How could I have let Cindy and Dr. Roerke manipulate me into a date? It’s not really a date, since we’re just meeting for coffee, but I am irritated nonetheless. I decide to forget about how annoyed I am and just go out and get this thing over with. I know I will have to deal with their aggravating questions on Monday, but I’ll try to keep it simple: We had a nice time. He was a gentleman. We talked about…blah blah blah.

It’s ten to eight now and I’m going to be late if I don’t get out the door. We agreed to meet at a coffee shop not too far from my office so I should be able to get down there in fifteen minutes. It looks like it’s beginning to snow, so I had better wear boots instead of the heels I had planned. My boots are not the fancy, sexy kind that Cindy wears, but a much more reasonable style. After putting them on, I see that they don’t really match my outfit. Oh well, I don’t want to go out with Aaron anyway, so I don’t really care how my boots look.

I arrive at the coffee shop a few minutes late and see Aaron sitting near the back. He looks changed. The times I’ve seen him, he has been in his work clothes; he
looks different in casual clothes. He is a very attractive man. I assume he is in his mid-forties, although he has very little grey hair and only minor wrinkles around his eyes. It looks like he smiles often. I don’t have any wrinkles there. He is wearing a grey and black striped sweater with a pair of jeans which look new. His black leather jacket is hanging on the back of his chair. He puts away the Blackberry he was fiddling with as I come in.

He smiles as I come in and stands up to greet me.

“Thanks for meeting me,” he starts.

“Thanks for inviting me,” I say, as it seems to be the appropriate response. We go up to the counter to order our coffees. I order a decaf because if I don’t, I will be up all night. He orders a large black coffee.

We spend the next hour or so engaging in small talk. He asks about my job, and I his, and we talk about where we live, the city, the weather. Then he tries to get a little more personal, with which I am not particularly comfortable. He asks about my family, and I quickly skirt over his questions and ask him about his. I continue asking question after question, just so the focus of the conversation will not return to me. He goes into detail about his marriage, which broke up three years ago. He says that he and his wife were completely unalike and he didn’t fully see it until they were married and living
together. They had talked about having kids but were unable. The stress of that, along with their incompatibility, led to their breakup. He realizes now that having children with her would have been a disaster, and he considers himself fortunate that they were unable to conceive. I am surprised by his candour. He hardly knows me and he is willing to share such personal information.

By ten-thirty we decide to go. He insists on walking me home and while the snow has subsided, it is still very cold outside. I look down at his shoes and see that they are not really keeping the snow out. I’m glad I wore my boots.

Once we arrive at my apartment building, I sense that Aaron wants to be asked in. I feel so uncomfortable that I make up some excuse about my sister being in town, but otherwise I’d love to have him in.

“We can go to my apartment,” he proposes.

Oh God, what have I done? “I don’t think that’s a good idea. I mean, my sister is here and I have a lot of stuff to do tomorrow morning. I had a nice time, though. Thank you.” I hate this. I hate this. I hate this. I am even angrier with myself for agreeing to the date than with Cindy and Dr. Roerke for arranging it.

“Okay. I’ll call you.”

“Yeah, sure. Thanks again for the coffee.” And I leave and go upstairs.

Why does everyone think you need someone in order to be happy? Does it make people that uneasy to see someone alone? The divorce rate is at an all-time-high; doesn’t that tell us something? I am content being alone; I don’t need anyone. I wish I didn’t have to explain it to anyone either. I go into my apartment and shut the door and cry. I can’t do these dates anymore, no matter what. I decide there and then that I will say no—always.

Summer 1989

G
od, cottage life is beautiful. I can see why my parents want to drag us away to this place; it’s so peaceful. There are no phones and the nearest store is over half an hour away. The cottage we rent is fairly small, but it has everything we need. The lot that it’s on is incredible. There are trees everywhere and a beautiful rock garden leading all the way down to the dock. There’s a huge weeping willow near the water, and whenever I’m lying in the sun, I love staring at its drooping branches moving in the breeze. There is a motorized fishing boat that we can use to go to different areas on the lake. We sometimes go to ‘the rocks’, where we jump off into the water. There’s also a beach not too far from us that has
nets for beach volleyball and kayaks for rent. My favourite place to hang out, though, is at the fire pit. Some of my best childhood memories are sitting around the campfire laughing. My parents always make sure to pack marshmallows that we can toast in the evenings. Jer, Sandy and I find the best branches and whittle them down to become ideal toasting sticks. I have perfected the art of toasting marshmallows, finding the hottest coals and slowly turning my stick, resulting in the most delicious golden brown marshmallows. Sandy’s usually end up on fire, and while we all laugh, she insists that she prefers it that way.

We have been here for nearly a week and I have done absolutely nothing, which is the point, I suppose. Dad and Jack go fishing at five every morning and Mom hangs out with her friends at the neighbouring cottages. My brother, sister, and I have met a few new people and we hang out with them during the day. Alyssa is a girl whom I had met before, but this year we are spending a lot more time together. In the past I’ve had Kaitlyn and Amanda with me, so I never really made any effort to get to know the people here.

Tonight there is a bonfire at another cottage. Jeremy, Sandy and I are going after dinner and it should be a good time. Mom said that I have to be in charge of Sandy, which isn’t a big deal; she is so social that I’m sure she’ll have more fun than I will.

Jeremy knocks on my door frame, as the door is actually just a thick curtain. “Hey, do you want to go to town with me? Mom wants me to pick up some stuff for her.”

“Sure.” It’s not like I’m doing too much right now. “So I noticed you were hanging out with Tina. You better be careful—Sarah might get jealous!” I know I’m being a bug, but that’s what younger siblings do—at least that’s what Sandy does with me. Tina is Alyssa’s older sister, and she is about Jeremy’s age.

“Buzz off. We’re just friends.” He says it in such a way that I know he knows I’m teasing. “Besides, how will Sarah ever know that I’m talking to another girl?” And as he says this, he makes a fist.

“I won’t say a word. But she
is
very pretty.” I cross my mouth with my thumb and index finger, as though I am zipping it shut.

“She’s okay—not really my type. She has a boyfriend back in Toronto anyway. We talk about him and Sarah all the time.”

I am trying to sense what his “type” is. Alyssa’s sister, Tina, is, from what I can see, pretty, smart, and a lot of fun. She seems like she’d be a lot of guys’ type. “Is she a lot different from Sarah?”

“Yes! Sarah cares so much about the environment, she’s a vegetarian, and she wants to become a social worker or work in another country one day. Tina is really nice, but she is definitely not like Sarah.” He sounds almost like he is trying to convince himself. “Anyway, it doesn’t really matter. In just over a week I’ll be back at school and with Sarah.”

The reality of that statement hits me. I miss Jeremy when he’s away. I had a hard time with it when he first went away to university, and even though he is only about three and a half hours away, I feel like he could be on the other side of the country. “Well, let’s have fun tonight, okay?”

“You bet.”

It’s my turn to clean the dinner dishes and Sandy’s turn to dry. I know I don’t do much at the cottage, but I loathe doing the dishes. I am not sure if it’s the wrinkly skin or the caked-on cheese on the forks, but I would much prefer drying. I ask Sandy to switch but she refuses. Uncle Jack comes in with another dirty plate. I give him a look as if to say, “How dare you give me more work?”