My Former Self (3 page)

“Morning, Ton. I’m really tired. I didn’t get to bed until two thirty, and I had so many drinks that my sleep wasn’t very restful. We had a good time, though. You would’ve had a blast.”

I doubt that, but of course I don’t say anything. “Yeah? Where did you guys go?”

“We went to that new martini bar on Main, above Cavalier’s. It was so beautiful and the drinks were cheaper than normal because they just opened last
week. I swear I tried almost every flavour of martini, from banana chocolate to mango-cranberry. Patrick was hilarious! I didn’t know that guy could party; he’s so quiet around here. He told us some pretty funny stories about his dad. When he was younger, Tom took an electrician course and when Pat was growing up, Tom would try and do all of his own fix-it work before anyone could call a licensed electrician. Well, he botched quite a few jobs and the family incurred more expenses
because
of his work. My God, we laughed pretty hard at that one.”

I’m sure they spoke last night about how lame I am. I used to go out more often, but I just don’t really feel the desire to anymore. The last thing I want to do after a long day at work is to socialize with the same people I’ve seen all day.

Next to come in is Dr. Roerke, with Patrick. Patrick and I only work together on Fridays because it is always busier. Friday is our filing and inventory day when Dr. Roerke wants everything updated. Other than Fridays, Patrick works when I can’t or when Dr. Roerke needs another body in the office. Patrick, too, looks rough this morning. Actually, he looks as if he’s still drunk.

“Good morning, Tonya. Nice to see you, Cindy. How are you today?” Dr. Roerke seemingly asks the question to both of us, but I get the feeling he really only cares if Cindy responds.

“Hi, Tom,” Cindy says with a smile. “I’m a little tired after going out last night. Patrick is sure a lot of fun. We went to the new martini bar, Stages. I had no idea you were such a handyman!”

“Did you now?” I don’t think he knew that his son went out last night.

“Yeah, it’s a nice place,” Patrick says without looking at his dad.

“So, how late did you guys stay out, and what on earth did my son tell you about me?” I actually think Dr. Roerke is jealous.

“Not much,” Patrick lies.

And as though to break the awkward silence, Deb walks in. “Good morning, all! How is everyone today?”

“Good, thanks,” I say. “Did you have a good time last night?”

“Oh, my God, I am getting too old to go out. I was exhausted this morning. Kyle was up at five thirty, and I swore at that point that I would never go out again. But it is a beautiful new bar. Tonya, you should have come. You don’t have any three-year-olds to wake you up!”

“You’re right. I don’t know how you do it. I was tired this morning and I stayed home last night.”

Everybody starts to get ready for the day, as the office opens in five minutes. My coffee is done, and I am not feeling any more awake than I was an hour ago. This is not good.

It’s funny to hear everyone complain about the rain outside. I have always loved it. There is something calming about it that I can’t quite explain. I remember when we were kids and at our cottage, we loved swimming in the rain. We thought ourselves so fortunate that is was teaming down on us while we were in the water. We’d have diving and jumping competitions while Dad would be the judge. He often took pity on Sandy, declaring her the winner of most rounds. Whenever we finished—or if the lightning ended our game—we’d head back into the cottage and play board games. I still think of those times; maybe that’s why I am fond of the rain.

Normally I’d go out for a walk during my lunch break, but today the weather has forced me to stay indoors. In addition to that, we’ve had a few cancellations, making this morning crawl by. I decide to go and sit with Cindy and Deb in the staff room. I walk in on their conversation, which appears rather private.

“I tried that. I swear he’d rather just watch TV,” Deb complains. “I mean, he doesn’t come right out and say it, but I can tell.”

“Maybe you should try a little role playing—guys love that stuff!” Cindy offers her advice.

“I don’t think Bud would go for that. I think we just need a vacation without the kids. I don’t remember the last time we went somewhere that didn’t have a kid meal option! Oh hey, Ton,” Deb acknowledges me. “Anyway, I am sure it’s normal.”

“I’m sure it is too, and when your kids get a little older, you’ll probably just pick up where you left off.”

“Pick up what?” Dr. Roerke has now entered the staff room and is getting in on the conversation.

“Deb here is worried that Bud is losing interest in her—you know—sexually. I told her she needs to just spice things up a bit; that’s what I’d do,” Cindy explains. “Tom, you’ve been married for a long time—how do you keep things
interesting
?” As she says the word, she raised her eyebrows.

“Oh I don’t know. I’d like to hear more about your suggestions,” he says with a smile.

Even though I am not in the conversation, I feel uncomfortable. I’ll finish my yogurt as quickly as possible and get out of here. Before the conversation continues, however, we hear the entrance door open, signaling the next appointment. I am more
than ready to leave the staffroom and greet the patient.

The day goes by slowly, as expected. I keep looking down at my watch. I can hear Dr. Roerke with a patient, asking him all sorts of personal questions. “Where do you work? What do you do? Are you single?” I guess being in a chair at the mercy of the dentist puts people at risk of these invasive and one-sided conversations. The man in the chair has difficulty answering all of these questions due to the work being done in his mouth. When he is finished with the patient, Dr. Roerke brings him out to the front desk with his paperwork, so that I can bill him. As he gets to the desk, he says, “Tonya, this is Aaron. He is an accountant, and he’s single. Aaron, this is Tonya. She works here—obviously—and she is smart, funny, and single, too.”

I can’t believe he is doing this. What on earth gives people the audacity to assume that this is what you want? I am not exaggerating when I say I turn beet red. I am livid and embarrassed at the same time.

“Hi, Tonya. It’s nice to meet you.” We shake hands. A woman in the waiting room looks away, as though she is embarrassed, too.

“Your total comes to $110.50.” I try to keep this professional.

“Debit, please.”

After he pays and has left, I hear Dr. Roerke and Cindy laughing.

Summer 1989

I
have had a crush on Greg for about a year now, although I don’t think he thinks of me in the same way. He is definitely not the cutest boy in our grade, but he is so athletic and funny. He makes us all laugh a lot, which I find is an attractive quality. I love laughing until my stomach hurts.

We made out one night at a party last winter when we were both pretty drunk on Durangos and beer, all that we could get from Kaitlyn’s brother. It was a party that a girl at school, Martina, was throwing because her parents were gone. I think Geoff, her boyfriend, was pressuring her to throw the party, which we all suspected he was doing so he could get her drunk and
she might finally put out for him. He was known in our school for having had many sexual relationships, which usually ended soon after—after he had gotten what he had wanted.

At the time, we were pretty excited about going out as a group. It was February and we had just finished our final exams. The new semester was beginning on the following Monday, so we had neither homework nor projects to worry about that weekend. I remember being nervous about my new teachers, but also eager to see who would be in my classes.

We had decided to meet at Kaitlyn’s house. We often met there because her mom was either out or didn’t really care. That way, we could have a couple of drinks before going out and no one would know.

Greg was fifteen, even though he was in the ninth grade. I think he was held back in fourth grade, although none of us ever spoke to him about it, assuming he was embarrassed. Anyway, Amanda, Kaitlyn, and I had had a few drinks before Greg came to pick us up. We always had fun together, talking about the people in our classes, our teachers, and our families.

At the party, after several hours of drinking and talking to different people, Greg and I started talking about school. Then we got on the topic of tattoos. He said he was saving up to get a cobra tattooed on his
chest. I told him I would love to get a small butterfly on my ankle, but my mom would probably make me have it removed if she ever saw it.

The next thing I knew, we were kissing. I don’t really remember how it began, but we ended up going into Martina’s parents’ room to make out. We were kissing and he slipped his hand up my T-shirt and felt over my bra, although there wasn’t much to feel. His other hand went over my crotch. I thought that it was supposed to feel good, so I made my breathing louder to sound as though I was enjoying it. Really, all I could think of was that my head was spinning and I couldn’t believe I was actually with Greg. I wanted him to enjoy being with me. I didn’t know what to do with my hands, so I just started rubbing over his jeans. Soon after that, Martina’s older sister came in and told us to get out. She had come back from university for the weekend and found all of these high school kids in her parents’ house. Needless to say, she was angry with Martina, who she found having sex in her bedroom.

Neil drove us back to Kaitlyn’s house, but he shouldn’t have been driving anywhere. Greg and I never spoke after that about the fact that we made out. We sort of pretended it never happened, although I always wanted to be his girlfriend. He actually had many girlfriends, including Kaitlyn at one time. But we still all hung out together as though it was no big deal.

So tonight we are going to a party at a guy named Pete’s house. I have no idea where his parents are, but I don’t really care either. I spent the morning with my family getting a portrait done and I am ready to go out with friends. My parents think we are going to a party at Susan’s house. Susan is a girl in our grade who lives not too far from here. My parents let me stay out longer when they know the house we are going to, so I often use Susan as a cover-up for where we are actually going. I could get into serious trouble if I ever get caught, but up to this point, I haven’t. My mom believes that a few of us go to Susan’s house regularly to talk and watch movies, when in reality, we are at different people’s houses to drink and not watch movies. Susan is alright. She hangs out with our group of friends but she is always sort of on the exterior. She just seems more serious or older than the rest of us; it’s hard to explain. Nonetheless, we see each other outside of school and my parents know her and her family, so it would be believable that we are going to her house.