Buying Her Flower

Since she’s become somewhat of a friend to me, instead of just a boss, we chit chat and are honest with each other. She likes to give me advice, which I appreciate, but clearly she doesn’t know what it’s like to be me. Our lives are very different.

“Oh, but you’re young! You should be out having fun, or with a boyfriend…” she says absent-mindedly, while writing down a few orders that had come in online, for us to fulfill in the morning.

“I know, but, I just…. haven’t met anyone yet,” I reply, while putting the broom away.

We’ve talked about this subject before, but I never want to get into my reasons for not wanting a boyfriend. That would involve entire therapy sessions, no doubt.

She pauses to give me a look of sympathy.

“Aw, don’t worry. It’ll happen, especially with your good looks and curves. You’ll be chasing them away.”

She smiles at me, then goes back to writing.

If only she knew that chasing them away isn’t my problem. It seems to be all I do these days, and why I stopped dating altogether. It’s as if it’s impossible to just have a fun time, going out and making out, without the guy thinking it means I’ll see him again and become his girlfriend.

But I have goals to focus on and I don’t want to end up miserably dependent on a man, like my mom. So, I just thank Marsha and go back to sweeping, knowing that she just wouldn’t understand.

Chapter 2

Andrew

One Week Later

“Today is one of those days,” I grumble to myself, as I walk into my HR Manager’s office.

“Now, Andrew,” he begins, as I sit in the chair opposite his desk.

Suddenly I’m already tired of this conversation. Even though I’m the owner of this company, I hate visiting HR just as much as any of the employees do.

“As you know, one of our employees has just returned from maternity leave,” the HR Manager continues. “As a new mother there are certain…..” he pauses to clear his throat,. “…needs that she has to attend to.”

He sounds nervous as he says it.

“You mean that she needs to pump?” I ask him.

The irritation in my tone is making him jump. But it’s me I’m irritated with – not him – for overlooking something so obvious.

I’ve watched my share of TV shows with the theme of the working mom who needs to pump. I just hadn’t thought to bring that concern into my real life and my workplace, which was stupid of me. It’s something I need to build into my workplace manual, right away.

Everything at my company must have a system, a way of doing things. It’s how I manage to juggle so much at once. I suppose the one thing I’m irritated at my HR Manager about is that I hire people to help me plan out my systems, and it’s his whole job to think about these things in advance, but instead I’m being blamed for it.

Still, when I really admit it to myself, I know that since I’m the owner and founder of the company, the buck stops with me, and everything is ultimately my fault, so most of my annoyance is aimed at myself.

“Um, yes…..” he stammers.

“Well? What is the problem then?” I ask.

His constant failure to get to the point really annoys me. No one has time for this kind of beating around the bush.

“The current floor plan doesn’t have a private space for that. For, um, pumping. She says she needs privacy,” he says in a rush.

I sigh deeply and rub my temples with my fingertips in an effort to calm myself.

“Then hire someone to build a personal space specifically for pumping,” I reply, trying to control my frustration.

“Ok, anything else?” he asks, taking notes.

“Yes, write it into the company handbook and bylaws that we’ll have plenty of space and time for pumping for employees who are on return from maternity leave,” I say, getting up from my chair to show that that settles the matter.

That’s the way to solve a problem and work it into the system so that it doesn’t happen again. Why I can’t get highly paid professionals to understand and help me do this is beyond me.

He doesn’t say anything, so I guess it’s my turn to talk again. Sometimes it seems I’m the only one who likes to take charge around here.

“If that’s it, I’m leaving now. I have errands to run,” I announce.

The HR manager keeps his head down and doesn’t look up from his notes as I leave. He barely manages to mumble out a “goodbye,” probably because he knows I’m not pleased with how this meeting went.

I’m on my way out of the office when I bump into my friend Brian.

“Well, I didn’t think you’d be in today,” Brian says, by way of a greeting.