“I’m going to go pee before walking up there,” I tell them.
“Catharine has to potty!” Charlie giggles.
“Do you have to potty?” I ask him.
“No!” he announces.
“He went right before we left the house,” Daniel says.
“That’s what I should have done,” I say.
“We’ll meet you up there,” Daniel says. “See you soon.”
We almost go to give each other a peck on the cheek but we stop. We should really fill Charlie in on this whole thing soon so we can just be like a normal couple, I think.
The thought crosses my mind that maybe Daniel just wants to fuck the nanny forever, and that he doesn’t have any real plans for the future with me.
Don’t be ridiculous, I tell myself. He and I have discussed becoming more open with Charlie about us, such as having Christmas dinner together and coming here. So, that’s definitely a step in the right direction.
I tell myself not to worry and that things will naturally progress from here but I’m really not sure what will happen. I want Daniel to step in and romantically propose that I be his official girlfriend and that we inform Charlie, but maybe it’s a conversation I’ll have to take the initiative to bring up.
I’m pondering all of this as I use the restroom, wash my hands, and start to head back out to the lobby so that I can climb those damn stairs without having to dance around really having to pee, when suddenly I walk almost straight into Michelle.
“Woah, sorry!” I automatically blurt out. Then I look at her more quizzically and ask, “Michelle? What are you doing here?”
“I work here,” she says. “Didn’t Matt tell you?”
“Umm, no,” I respond.
Today is just full of surprises. I guess maybe he tried to tell me, when he shouted something up at me about saying hello to Michelle, which now makes a lot more sense that I know that she works here, but I’m honestly shocked. I was hoping to never have to see Michelle again – it was one of the perks of getting fired – and here she is in front of me, as if she’s purposefully wanting to talk to me about something, and I have no idea what.
“Well, the question is, what are you doing here…” she asks, and I’m about to tell her I’m skiing when I realize that wasn’t the end of her question “…when you never came back to the resort to clear out your locker and I was waiting around trying to talk to you?”
“Huh?” I ask, thinking that only Michelle would be egotistical enough to think that if I don’t come back to a place that fires me, it’s all about her. “I didn’t need to get anything.”
“Well, I need you to be a witness in my case,” she says. “So I’m really glad Matt texted me and told me you were here. I’ve been looking all over the slopes for you but here you were in the bathroom. Who are you here with?”
She looks around and guesses, “Becca?” – another of our former co-workers, who I haven’t seen since I left – “Your cake-making friend? What’s her name, Sandy? Sally?”
“Sally,” I say, to answer her question about the name, but I don’t tell her who I’m really here with.
It’s none of her business. And I’m sure she’d be only too thrilled to spread the rumor that I’m here with the same rich asshole and bratty kid – as she’d undoubtedly refer to them – who are the reasons we got fired.
I suddenly feel like I shouldn’t be talking to Michelle, as if she’s out to get me or something. But I think I still have a lot of pent-up anger about what happened. If she had just listened to me and shut the fuck up with her rude comments in front of the guests, we wouldn’t have even been fired, and she wouldn’t have to be filing a lawsuit.
A lawsuit, I realize, as soon as the thought leaves my head.
She said she’s filing a lawsuit. For firing her?
“What kind of lawsuit are you talking about?” I ask her, skeptically. “And why do you need my help with it?”
“The lawsuit in which I’m suing the ski resort for wrongful termination,” she says, as if this should be obvious. “You should sue them too. But if you don’t want to, that’s fine, but I need you to speak up for me in mine. In fact, my lawyer was talking about maybe having to serve a subpoena on you if we couldn’t find you through normal channels so I’m sure glad you showed up here…”
“Wrongful termination? Subpoena?”
I’m so confused I can only repeat these phrases full of legal jargon while my mind is running a million words a minute, trying to figure out what’s talking about. I feel defensive, wondering why her lawyer would need to track me down and serve me with paperwork or drag me into court. Michelle is even more annoying than I thought.