So forget your past, my goodbye girl

Greg and I had chatted online for awhile, before we realized that a phone call would make things much easier, and faster. He called me, and we talked for awhile. We covered family (he was adopted, an only child, who loved and was very grateful to his parents), friends (his were mostly long distance friends whom he met while touring state fairs in the summer. He did have a few old friends, but said the majority of them were basically acquaintances) and work (he was actually a substitute teacher! He said he was a shy guy throughout his life, and in high school had taken to drama and magic. He liked the fact that on stage he could become anyone, which gave him a sort of fake confidence. He liked subbing because it gave him a steady income, but also the flexibility to take a gig here and there in the winter, and to travel in the summers.) We both talked and shared things that I personally would never share with anyone without ever really hanging out with them first. He was easy to talk too. Before either of us knew it, it was two AM, and I had to force myself to get off the phone. Even though I was dreading getting up for work the next day, I fell asleep with a smile on my face, replaying our conversation over in my head.
The next morning I woke up to a text from Greg.
Greg Dangers: Good morning! Sry I kept u up so L8, but it was nice talking 2 u. Hope u have a good 1!
I smiled, but refrained from texting him back. One, it was early, and I didn’t want to wake him, and two, I figured I should probably pace myself. I had already divulged a lot of information, and I didn’t want to move too fast. Even though I hadn’t dated many guys, I had a tendency to crush hard and fast, and then get bummed when it didn’t work out (even though the reason was usually Jason.) I thought that maybe if I took things slow, it may work, and even if it didn’t, I probably wouldn’t be so bummed when it did end.
I dressed comfortably, knowing I should probably put more care into my clothes, but the fact of the matter was, this morning I was too tired to care. I climbed into the kitchen where I was met with nips and yips of four very hungry dogs. I fixed their breakfast, and while they ate, I prepared mine. I wasn’t a big morning eater, I actually tended to get sick if I ate too close to waking, but I knew it was going to be a long day and I would need the energy. I stuck with toast and cereal, but by the time I was done toasting, buttering, and pouring, the dogs were already finished with their breakfast. I let them outside to do their business, and sat down and ate. When I was done, I picked up the few piles and wiped up the few puddles (night accidents were getting less and less, and they may have been eliminated if I would only crate them at night. But, I felt too bad doing that when they were already locked up all day.) I let the dogs back in, played with them for a few minutes, and then shut them in their crate. I hated doing it, but I knew it was the best for them to get used to it.
I grabbed my bag and was out the door, already dreading the day. I had to go into work earlier than normal for a staff meeting. I hated staff meetings, I had yet to find someone who actually liked them, but ours were especially boring. We had a lot of agency rules that have to do with our philosophy, and some of them I agree with. Others, however, I think should be considered cruel and unusual punishment. For example, the rule that everyone had to agree before we left the meeting? Dumb. Most of the time it wasn’t a big deal, and we agreed on whatever topics had been discussed. However, sometimes we couldn’t agree. And one time we had a four hour meeting because the two cleaning ladies disagreed on which mop-heads to use.
I still loved my job, and most of my co-workers. Sometimes it was hard to be around them, in the agency there were only three white people working, myself, Michelle, and a woman named Misty, and sometimes I felt some racism directed towards us because of it, but for the most part, we got along well. My boss Kenny, was a short, middle aged man, with dark skin and glasses. He looked pretty dorky, and we often teased him for his taste in clothes. He wore sweatpants and sandals with socks, the ugliest and brightest shirts imaginable, but he was a sweetheart, and would give you the (ugly) shirt of his back if you needed it. He had two little girls, who were gorgeous. His wife was Puerto Rican, and she was also a sweetheart. It was clear how much they loved each other, and their family. They were talking about trying for one more child, as they both desperately wanted a little boy. Kenny’s boss, the boss of us all, was named Mari Rivers, but everyone called her Mama Rivers. She was an old soul, and her face was soft and worn, it looked almost like it had been carved out of the side of a tree. She spoke quietly, but she could lay down the law if she had too. She called the kids ‘youngsters’ which I adored, and I wished badly that she was my Grandma. She was gorgeous, light-skinned. She was Asian-African-American mix, and had kind eyes that she passed along to her adult son, who occasionally volunteered. Kenny’s second in command was Michelle. She was constantly going tanning, and worked out, so her skin had a hard quality to it. She had shoulder length blonde hair that she high-lighted, an easy and broad smile, and white teeth. She was around Kenny’s age, but looked younger, she had a husband who was built and gave off the appearance of being a bad-ass, but really was a teddy bear. They had one son, a precocious little boy that every one called Little Mike. Misty was probably the co-worker I was closest too. She was the same age as Kenny and Michelle, but acted younger. She heavy-set, had gorgeous green eyes that she passed along to her teen-aged daughter, bleached-blonde hair, and had recently got into a tattoo/piercing phase. She acted a little ghetto and hard-assed, but she was also a sweetheart, very shy, and quick to get her feelings hurt. Next was James, a big, dark skinned man, with a huge voice and a smile to match. He had thick dreads that all the kids called “dookie braids”. He was quick to joke, always laughing, and constantly fighting with Misty. They had an off again on again thing, and there was constantly drama around them. He had one young son, a gorgeous light skinned boy everyone called baby James. He was getting to the age where he got a little annoyed at the “baby” part.
Then there were the few people I didn’t get along with. Betty was one of them, but she was only part time. I often excused her mean-ness as being unhappy with the way she looked, and also being sad about the death of her daughter. Since Betty was our receptionist, I didn’t have to see her often, and was able to steer clear from her. Kiki was a different story. Kiki worked in the same programs I did, and we were constantly butting heads. She felt like because she was older than me, she could tell me what to do. Her hair was constantly changing, sometimes she’d put weave in and leave it straight, other times she put it in afro-puffs, sometimes it would be braided. Kiki had four sons, two of them older teens, one mid-teens, and one pre-teen. She was dark-skinned as well, with one front gold tooth. She was constantly putting me down and trying to take over my groups. We had gotten into one full blown argument when she accused me of being a lesbian (which I didn’t care), but inferring that because I was a lesbian, I was also a child molester (which I almost punched her for.) Last but not least, was Sandy, who we jokingly called Big Momma behind her back. She bossed EVERYONE around, and was so lazy, I was shocked that she hadn’t yet gotten fired.
There were other people, volunteers, back office people who worked on things like finances, but these were the people I seemed to have the most contact with.
The staff meeting was boring, as expected, but didn’t drag on for as long as I expected. I half-paid attention, writing funny notes to Michelle and Misty, watching Kenny roll his eyes as Big Momma droned on about some great idea she had, that she thought everyone should pitch in and help with. Don’t get me wrong, the basis of our agency, and the reason I thought we thrived, was because everyone was always willing to pitch in on whatever. But, it was slightly irritating when Big Momma doled out all the work, sat on her ass, and then took all the credit for it. We talked a little about how the interns would be here Monday, who they would be assigned too (I had Stacey for the first week.) And then we broke. The rest of the day was uneventful, I did some paperwork, went to lunch with Kenny, Misty, and Michelle, and taught a class about online safety to the kids. They kept asking where Cumulus was, and I made a mental note to ask Kenny about maybe using one of the dogs to help teach an animal safety/care class. The wheels in my mind turned, thinking of all the possibilities. We could work with the local shelter on some things, maybe even earning the kids volunteer credits for school, which a lot of the teens needed to graduate. I decided to work on this more at home. I rushed home right after the kids left, not bothering to dawdle and do paperwork like I normally did. I had two people coming to look at the puppies. If all went well, and I liked their vibe, I would have to schedule home visits with them to see if it met requirements. If so, I could be down two puppies, which would actually be a relief. The dogs were getting bigger by the minute, and I felt like I’d soon be out of room.
After the people came and went, I needed to get on sewing bandana’s for the dogs to wear for the adoption event I was taking them too this weekend, mingle with the mutts. Then there was paperwork, I wanted to outline what I wanted the new animal program to be like, and I had texted Greg back and asked if there would be a repeat conversation tonight. He texted back not too long after that he would like it if there was, so I had a phone date to prepare for.
The people came and went, one I thought was almost a definite yes, the other couple I was iffy about. They had a baby on the way, and I wasn’t sure they needed to add a puppy, especially a large breed puppy to the mix. I had set appointments to do a home visit at both homes, but decided I would bring information on older, calmer dogs for the second couple. If they decided to go that route, I could pre-approve them for one of the dogs.
I texted Greg a “good luck with your set” text, called Nancy with an update about the puppy visitors, and started working on the bandana’s. I worked outside so the puppies could play, and so I could soak up the last days of summer. In Ohio, you never really knew which way the weather would turn. Sometimes it would be eighty degrees in December, other times, we were getting snow in September. You could never put away your winter clothes, or your summer clothes. Lots of people complained, but I liked it. I think it taught people to think on their feet, and to enjoy what they had when they had it.
I ordered a pizza, and set to work. It was an easy, mindless task. I had cut a square of fabric diagonally, leaving two triangles. I was hemming the side I cut to make a smooth edge, and then stenciling “adopt me” on the back. I was making several of these, as well as “I’ve been adopted!” for the dogs in our agencies. It made them stand out a little at adoption events. I had gotten a few done when I heard the back gate open. I had instructed the pizza guy to come to the back door, but was surprised he didn’t call me to come over. I figured most people wouldn’t want to deal with a yard full of puppies. I grabbed my purse off the bench next to me, and turned to pay him.
“Drew? What are you doing here?” I asked, dropping my purse.
Drew was holding a bouquet of sunflowers, one of my favorite flowers, and strode over towards me.
“I’ve got something to say, and you need to listen.”