Page 52 of The Weight Of It All
Again, they all stared at me, and I realised what I’d just said.Gay man. Fuck.
Like she could see the panic bubbling inside me, Melinda straightened her back. “Right, lunch is over. Back to work.” She used her scary voice, and even though she was tiny, most people jumped when she spoke like it was possible she was vying for world domination in her spare time.
I didn’t really notice where the others went, but Melinda led me to my office. When the doorsclosed behind me, I pointed to the now obscured hallway. “This is why I don’t speak to people at work!”
“Henry, take a deep breath,” Melinda ordered. She put her hands on my shoulders. “Everything’s fine. I know it’s scary, but I like that you’re speaking to our colleagues more. They like you. I wish you could see that.” She waited for me to exhale. “I’m pretty sure they already knew you were gay.”
“What? How?”
She clicked her tongue. “Well, there was that time you told David from the mailroom that he shouldn’t wear tweed with polyester.”
“Because it’s the truth,” I whispered.
“I know it is.” Melinda nodded sympathetically. “Then there was that time you gave colour palette lessons to Eliza from Admin because her lipstick was too fuchsia for her complexion. Remember?”
I nodded slowly. “I was just helping. But it reinforces why I shouldn’t speak to the people I work with.”
“No. It reinforces who you are. And they like you, Henry. You’re good at your job, you’re just a little direct. Because there was also that time when you told the national director that Idrina’s report on the influence of globalization on China’s economy was brilliant.”
“Because it was.”
“Idrina smiled for a week. And her report was then read and implemented on your recommendation.”
“She deserved recognition for that.”
Melinda smiled at me. “People like you, Henry. And they’ve known you were gay for years. Don’t be afraid to show them the real you.”
I sighed long and loud, trying to believe what she was saying, trying not to panic. “Do you think there is a YouTube video of me drunk and singing on a table from last Friday nightand Lillian saw it? And that’s why she wants to see me? Because I’m pretty sure a boss can fire me for that.” I put my hand to my forehead. “Oh God, what if it’s trending on Twitter?”
Melinda laughed. “No Henry. I’m sure there’s no footage.”
“Can you check?”
She channelled her inner Google-fu, typed in a bunch of different keywords, and thirty seconds later said, “I can’t find anything.”
I sighed the mother of all sighs. “Thank God.”
She checked the time. “Ooh, Henry, you need to go.”
Crap. It was almost two. I combed my fingers through my hair and straightened my tie. “Look okay?”
“Perfect. Now go.”
Meetings with Lillian Caldwell always made me nervous. She was a great boss and one of the most intelligent people I’d had the privilege of knowing. She had brains, common sense, used logic and reason, and wore Prada like it was designed for her. She also had eyes like a hawk and missed nothing, called a spade a spade, and had no tolerance for bullshit.
I liked her.
Her assistant buzzed me through and I made my way into her office, certain she could smell my curiosity and dread. She looked up from her desk and smiled. Okay, so smiling was good. “Come in, Henry. Take a seat.”
I did as she said, sitting with my hands clasped on my lap, squeezing my fingertips nervously.
“Talk to me, Henry.”
“About what?”
“I’ve been watching you these last few weeks.”
Well, that was weird. “Oh?”
