The Second Week in August

Chapter 10: A First Time For Everything

Over the three weeks, nothing changed. I continued to run through the same routine, overwhelmed by guilt one moment, convinced it was all in my head the next. Each morning, though, as I came out of my sleepy haze, I knew my feelings were real. On an almost consistent basis, Gabe visited me in my dreams. Each night the dreams became less and less PG-13, verging on something that left me some combination of flustered, breathless, and wracked with guilt.

It didn't help that the more time Gabe and I spent working together, the more I felt myself falling into a comfortable routine with him, to the point where he now elicited in me both that whirlwind heart-pounding feeling, but also that sense of comfort that usually only developed after years of knowing someone.

"Seriously, can you give me the recipe for these?" Gabe asked, holding up one of my freshly baked Monday morning muffins. Since Gabe had joined us in the office, I started coming into the office on Monday. I told myself it was because it was a busy time of year and I needed to be more available at the office, but I knew, deep down, my motives were less pure.

I laughed. "Sure, but do you even know how to turn on an oven?" I asked, eyeing the leftover takeout containers on the desk from yesterday's lunch.

"Touche," he said, popping the last bite in his mouth.

I opened my laptop and started checking my emails for the day when I felt Gabe's eyes still on me.

"What?" I asked, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear, still feeling self-conscious whenever I happened to notice him looking at me.

He sat back in his chair looking thoughtful. "You're really good, you know?" he said.

I blushed, not knowing what he was referring to, but taking the compliment all the same.

"At what?" I asked.

He paused, a thoughtful expression plastered across his face. I waited.

He gestured to the empty muffin container. "With food, I mean."

"I'm really good with food?" I said slowly, not sure what he was trying to say.

He sat up, a serious look now on his face. "Yeah. Have you ever considered doing something with it?"

"Doing something with food?" I still wasn't getting it.

"Think about it, Lou," he started. "You hate working here."

Instinctively, I looked behind me to check that Gloria hadn't snuck up the stairs with either one of us hearing her.

He continued. "Why not try making a living from something you're actually passionate about?

Even still, I wasn't sure what he was trying to suggest.

"Like what? Go to culinary school? I don't have the time or money for that."

Before I even had the suggestion out, Gabe was already shaking his head. "No, no, you don't need school," he told me earnestly. "Think about all the people making money from their food. And I'm not talking about people opening big fancy restaurants. You also don't need that." He reached beside him to move his laptop closer. He started typing and eagerly turned the laptop towards me.

"Look at this," he said.

I leaned closer, taking in colorful images of food. "Yeah, I use this site," I said, recognizing the website as one of my favorites for easy dinners.

"Okay, then you already know about food blogging," he said. I took my eyes off the laptop and made eye contact with him.

"You think I should start a food blog?" I tried to keep the incredulous tone out of my voice so as not to offend him.

"Well, it doesn't even have to be a food blog. Maybe you could sell muffins at a local farmer's market, or even just start off with an Instagram account sharing your favorite recipes. I don't know, Lou, I just feel like you're wasting your potential here."

I sat back, feeling the sting of his words. As much as I often thought that about myself, it was another thing to hear it come out of someone else's mouth, especially someone who had only known me for a mere month.

As much as I knew Gabe was right, I found myself getting defensive, quickly rejecting his suggestion.

"Cool idea, but honestly, I have way too much going on right now to even consider taking on something like this," I said.

"Like what?" Gabe challenged.

"What do you mean, like what?" I asked, folding my arms across my chest, feeling my defenses go up.

"I mean, what do you have going on that's more important than finding something to do in your life that you're actually passionate about?"

I didn't respond for a moment, partly considering the question but also taken aback by his brash tone. He didn't know my life. He didn't know what kind of time I did or didn't have. He ate one muffin and thought he had my future figured out? Yeah right.

I opened my mouth to respond but still couldn't find the right words.

"Listen, I'm not trying to be an ass," Gabe started to explain. "I just want to help. You don't want to get stuck here."

I looked down at my desk, rearranging papers to keep my hands busy. I could feel tears stinging the back of my eyes, but there was no way I would let Gabe see how the truth in his words affected me.

"Seriously, Lou, you don't need to be upset. It's just something to think about," he said, softening his voice, probably sensing that his words struck a chord.

"I'm not upset," I said with force, raising my eyes to meet his—the tears instantly dried up as anger flooded my body. I had enough anxiety going on in my life right now. On top of my marital woes, I didn't need to also feel like I was failing at my job—the one thing I felt qualified in.

"You seem pretty upset," Gabe responded, challenging me.

"Wow," I muttered under my breath, packing up my things, knowing I could work from home and wanting to get away from Gabe as quickly as possible.

It was one of the first times in a long time that I could remember wanting to be at home over the comfort and safety of my office

Gabe didn't say anything else, but I could feel his eyes on me as I zipped up my laptop into its case.

"I'll see you tomorrow," I said my voice tense as I swung my backpack onto my shoulder.

"Ok, see you," Gabe said, his eyes already back on his computer. I stood rooted to the spot in front of him, realizing I expected him to stop me. As he typed and put on his headphones, it became obvious he wasn't about to indulge me. I opened my mouth, wanting to engage further so I didn't have to actually leave, but also knowing I had been the one who drove the conversation into a heated territory. I had no choice but to head home.

For once, as I walked away from Gabe, I didn't feel his eyes on my back.