Page 26 of The Weight Of It All
Reed was over at the rowing machines with another client, so I just smiled at him and called out, “For you,” before I raced back outside.
I got to work, and thankfully no one but Melinda had realised I was late. “You’re looking awfully happy this morning,” she said cautiously.
Before she could ask for details or hypothesise on any reason her imagination could come up with, I handed her the rest of the citrus tart. “For morning tea.” She took the container like it was a dose of herpes just as my phone beeped. It was two messages from Reed. First, a picture of the empty container I’d sent him, save a few crumbs in the bottom. And a text that followed.
Oh. My. God. I need the recipe for that.
I grinned at my phone, then at Melinda. “I am happy this morning,” I said to her. I sat at my desk and opened emails first, then a job folder from my in tray. It wasn’t until about thirty minutes later that I realised I was actually happy. For the first time in weeks, since Graham had popped my cosy bubble and I thought I’d never find a reason to smile again, I was doing okay.
I found the recipe online, sent a copy of it to Reed with a few notations of what I’d improvised on, and spent the rest of my day powering through my workload with an energy I hadn’t felt in years.
I hadn’t given my citrus tart another thought until I stopped for lunch and made my way into the lunchroom. I ordered a salad and sat at my usual table away from everyone else when someone?Lydia, I think her name was?stopped by my table. “That lemon tart was delicious, thank you!” she said before quickly making her way out the door.
Then someone else stopped and waited for me to look at them. A pretty girl with red hair who I’d seen before but had no clue of her name. “Did you make morning tea? Because it was divine. Thank you.”
Then Kadin. And then Lena, and then Rihanti. I’d worked with these people for years and never said more than was professionally polite. They all wanted to tell me how much they loved my cooking and how they appreciated the gesture.
“Oh, you’re welcome,” I said awkwardly. I put my fork down. “I didn’t want to eat it all myself, but I love to cook. And I went to a fresh produce market and got inspired, but I’m trying to lose weight, so I thought I’d bring it in here. I actually thought Melinda would just take it home. I didn’t know she was going to serve it up to everyone.”
God, this is why I didn’t speak to people I worked with. I literally just sprayed them with verbal diarrhoea. They stared at me. “Oh.” Rihanti spoke first. “I’m sorry, was she not supposed to shareit?”
Great Henry, the first time they ever speak to you, and you make them feel bad. “Oh! No, I don’t mind. I’m happy that she shared it, actually. And I’m really glad you liked it!”
They seemed to relax. Then Kadin said, “We should take it in turns to cook and bring something in. Like every Monday, someone brings something different in for morning tea. They do that at my father’s work, and everyone loves it.”
“Yes!” Lena chimed in. “We should! We should make sure no one has allergies or anything like that though.”
“Oh crap.” I must’ve said that out loud because the three of them looked at me. I cleared my throat. “I mean, jeez. That was something I didn’t think about before Melinda offered my citrus tart. It’d be just my luck someone would die of anaphylactic shock because of me.”
And there was my filterless brain again. They were back to staring at me, so I picked up my fork and stabbed a cherry tomato like it was its fault I was socially inept.
Then Rihanti laughed. “Or me. That type of thing usually happens to me.”
Then Lena grabbed Rihanti’s arm. “Oh my God. When I was in primary school, it was a cake day sale and I brought in some cupcakes my mum and I had made, and some little kid had an egg allergy. Wasn’t pretty.”
Then Kadin mentioned a time when he knew of some girl who served dog food on sandwiches to girls who were total bitches to her.
Rihanti, Lena, and I both stared at him. It was completely gross and completely not related to what we were talking about and very much how most of my conversations ended up. I realised that maybe Kadin and I had more in common than I first realised and made a mental note that I liked him now and would make an effort to be awkward withhim together.
I couldn’t help but laugh. “I hope she told them what they ate.”
He just shrugged. “Nope. Just has the satisfaction in knowing, that’s all.”
“Anyway,” Lena said with a smile, “thanks again for the lemon tart. And we’ll put a memo out to see if anyone’s interested in doing a Monday morning tea share thing. It was good to speak to you.”
“Yes,” Rihanti agreed. “And I can tell you’ve been dieting these last few weeks. You look great.”
“Oh.” I blinked a few times. Her compliment threw me for a six. It had been years since I’d received a compliment, and I wasn’t sure what to say. “Um. Thanks?”
“You can tell,” Kadin added. “That you’re dieting.”
Okay, so now I wanted to crawl under the table. Thankfully, like a come-save-your-boss alarm went off, Melinda came to my rescue. She sat down across from me, totally diverting their attention. “I’ll send the lemon tart recipe out in a blind copy,” she declared to no one in particular. “If I can get him to share it.”
They all seemed pleased by this, and I breathed a sigh of relief when they left us to eat our lunch in peace. “You okay?” Melinda asked gently.
“Yes, I’m fine. They just made small talk, and apparently I’ve instigated a Monday morning tea cook off. Which I’m totally blaming on you because you served the lemon tart to them. And now it will surely be expected that I have regular conversations with co-workers. I already blabbered on like an idiot in front of them. Though I think Kadin and I might be able to contend for ‘Australia’s most awkward conversation’ contest. He seems nice, though, despite the dog-food sandwich comment.”
Melinda’s only reaction to my entire tirade was a slight flicker of her eyebrow. “How’s yourlunch?”
