Page 12 of The Weight Of It All
“Thank you for helping me out back there.”
“Mmm.” Melinda was now studying me like I was speaking in tongues. “No problem. Oh, and I got you these.”She pulled a white paper bag from her satchel and handed it to me.
“Is it some traditional Chinese remedy from your grandmother?”
Melinda rolled her eyes. “Jesus Henry, do I look like theKarate Kidto you?”
“Sorry.”
“I got it from the chemist on York. You know when you say to the pharmacist ‘my boss decided to go break himself doing exercise and now he can’t move’? Well, that’s what she gave me to give you.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” She walked to the door. “I’ll have the Juniper reports done by this afternoon.”
“You’re worth more money.”
“Then pay me more money.”
I laughed a sarcastic laugh, which she mimicked perfectly before walking out the door. The pharmacist had given me magnesium tablets and multivitamins and Advil. I swallowed down two of each and prayed for immediate relief.
I spentthe afternoon studying the stock market and data analytics, as well as reports on energy resources and the environment, while walking slowly around my office, and the only time I sat for any length of time was for a teleconference with the other head office in Melbourne. My boss, a lady by the name of Lillian Caldwell, was in Singapore all week, and that left me signing off on reports in her absence. I would be doing longer hours this week which, in hindsight, probably wasn’t the best timing to have a midlife crisis.
Thanks a fucking lot, Graham.
I was still sore as hell, and I’d never been happier to see sixo’clock. Melinda had left a little after five, but not before dropping another pile of reports on my desk to sign off on and to ask if I was okay.
“I’ll be fine,” I assured her. She smiled as she left and had her headphones in before the door was closed behind her.
When I heard the vacuums of the cleaning staff, I knew it was time to call it a day. I collected my briefcase and slowly made my way through the empty offices, took the elevator down to the basement, and walked like a zombie to my car.
I drove home in a daze with the wordsmidlife crisistwirling through my mind.Is that what this is? Is that what happened to Graham?Did he wake up in a panic, realising that there wasn’t some magic cut-off date that you passed to make you old, like you’re young one day, pass some critical calendar date, then wake up old? It was simply something life ran towards at light speed, one day at a time. Had he panicked because he thought life was moving ahead without him?
I’d never thought about it before last Wednesday when Graham had dropped the bombshell that turned my life upside down. But maybe at thirty-five, my life was half over. I mean, Jesus. A lot of people died at seventy, and other people would just nod sadly and say they’d had a good life. But fuck, if my life was half over, I wasn’t ready.
I had to make the most of what time I had left. And the truth was, if I didn’t change my lifestyle choices now, maybe I wouldn’t even get another thirty-five years. Or, at the very least, I wouldn’t get a healthy thirty-five years.
So with that in mind, I went home and searched up more recipes. Like Reed had said, given cooking was my thing, I was going to make the best healthy food I possibly could. I took the healthy eating plan he had given me and made some adjustments. I’d let him look it over to approve, but if this was a long-term thing, I had to make it so it suited me.
And food reallywasmy thing.
So I grilled myself some fish, added a fresh mango salsa served with a mixed green salad, and set the table to eat. But my motivated mood was short-lived when I saw that a table set for one was pretty fucking sad. And suddenly the apartment was too quiet, and I was again reminded that I was very much alone.
The next morningI was just as sore, if not a little sorer than the day before. But I was determined, and like a sucker for punishment, I dragged my sorry arse to the gym. I arrived with two minutes to spare, and Reed’s whole face broke out into a smile when he saw me.
“Glad you made it.”
“I’m sore as hell. Please make it stop.”
“Okay,” he said with a chuckle. “Come this way.”
I followed him over to the far corner where there were mats on the floor. He said goodbyes to the people who were just finishing up and leaving, sweaty and smiling. It was pretty clear everyone liked him. He was just that type of guy. Not like me, I was socially awkward, said things that were cringeworthy at best. Like now…
“G’day,” one fit looking guy said to me as he walked past.
“Good, thanks.”
It wasn’t until he was a metre or two behind me that I’d realised what I’d said. I just shook my head, like the socially inept idiot I was, and kept walking.
