To Have and to Hate

I think he’s going to follow me right into the lobby, but he gets jumpy around the automatic doors and runs off in the other direction.

Now, glad to have rid myself of one problem, I decide to tackle another.

I do my best to read through the documents in the email with a fine-tooth comb, but it’s tricky. The information is so shrouded in legalese that I doubt I even absorb half of it. A large bulk of it outlines our prenuptial agreement, which I signed at the courthouse but didn’t have time to really read. Now, I realize all of Walt’s assets will remain his in the event of our divorce. I’m entitled to nothing, not even spousal support if we ultimately part ways. How generous of him. It’s not that I would want his money anyway, it’s just good to know we’re going into this arrangement only looking out for ourselves. Now I know I should act accordingly.

The next section of the documents outlines how and when the beneficiaries of the trust will be compensated. My parents’ names are in there, along with Charlotte and Jacob, and me. My younger siblings will start to collect on their inheritance when they turn eighteen, and only if they follow the same set of rules outlined for the rest of my family. There are quite a few parameters that have to be met, things like negative drug screenings once a quarter, a minimum number of community service hours, no misdemeanors or felonies. If deemed worthy, rather than being gifted with one lump sum, we will each receive a monthly disbursement. My parents will each get $20,000, while my siblings and I will receive $10,000. I actually have to read that part twice because I don’t believe it at first. To some, that figure might be astounding. To my parents, it will be a slap in the face. My mom spends more on clothes during a single trip to Chanel. But…that’s not my problem.

$10,000 is good money, money I shouldn’t pass up at the moment, but it’s also money I don’t want. I need something else. I need a cosigner on my lease, and I’m going to ask Walt to do it. Right after I work up the nerve to give him a call.

I take the first crucial step by programming his number into my cell phone. It’s actually scarier than it sounds because I keep worrying I’ll accidentally hit the call button with my big fat thumbs and then what?!

After I do that minor task, which amounts to basically nothing but feels like a huge deal, I shower and check my email. Then I flip through TV channels while lying under the covers, and that’s how I fall asleep—grasping the TV controller in one hand and my phone in the other. In the morning, I wake up with a start, surprised to find that a whopping eight hours has passed and I’m still too scared to call Walt.

This is getting ridiculous. It’s just a phone call, I chide myself.

I don’t allow myself any more excuses. Sure, my breath is horrid and I could use a good shower, but Walt won’t know that over the phone. I sit up in bed, lean against the headboard, and press call.

Holy moly. My sweat glands are alive and well. My palms can barely hang on to the phone as it rings. Jesus.

When the call connects, I inhale sharply.

Then there’s his voice. “Hello?”

I fumble over my words, trying to speak both quickly and articulately. “Hi. Mr. Jennings, good morning. Um—”

“It’s Walt,” he says, cutting me off with a touch of annoyance.

“Oh right. Sorry. I just keep seeing Mr. Walter Jennings II on all these legal documents I’m reading…it gets confusing.”

There’s a pause where he’s supposed to respond in a kind and gentle way that would put me at ease, but that reply never comes. Instead, silence.

Yikes, this isn’t going well.

“I, um, know I’m only supposed to contact you if it’s an emergency…”

I give him the chance to laugh and clear up that misconception. Again, no laugh. No clearing up.

“It’s just that I have something to discuss with you and I thought it’d be best if I spoke to you directly rather than going through Mason.”

“Hold on one moment,” he says. His voice grows quieter, like he’s taken his mouth away from the receiver. “Andre, I’ll have to call you back in a moment. Yes, I know. Give me five.” Then he’s speaking to me again, loud and clear. “What do you need, Elizabeth?”

He does not sound pleased.

“Who were you talking to?”

“A work contact.”

“Oh…” I glance at the clock near my bed. It’s only 7:23. “It’s early.”

“Andre is head of Singapore distribution for Diomedica. It’s not early for him.”

I pinch my eyes closed with embarrassment. I wasn’t even thinking about the fact that Walt would likely already be working. “Let me call you later then! I didn’t realize…crap. Sorry. Also sorry for saying crap!”