It took another week to find a day where everybody was free to meet after work. I'd planned everything through Eleanor, so I still had no contact with Casey and had no idea what to expect that night.
After meeting with Shiloh again at the beginning of the week to inform her of her half siblings and her agreeing to meet with them and get a DNA test, she seemed surprised, as anybody would, but also eager to meet other people who were going through the same experiences as her.
Everything lined up well and the meeting was set for a Thursday evening where the four of us would meet at a quiet restaurant for dinner. I had devised a plan where I'd stay for a drink to help everybody get acquainted, and then excuse myself and allow them to have time to get to know each other without prying ears. It would give them privacy, and keep my communication with Casey to a minimum. Everybody wins.
As my day at work was wrapping up and I continued to mentally prepare myself for the weird dinner I was about to endure, Boris's tall and lanky body began looming over my desk.
"Can I help you with something?" I eventually asked him, absentmindedly twirling a lock of my frizzy hair between two fingers.
"You said you have research done on the Potomac case," he stated. "Where is it?"
"On my computer, why? Shouldn't that article already be submitted?" I wondered in confusion. It'd been almost two weeks since we were given our assignments, so it was weird that he hadn't finished his own research by then.
"I'm running into some roadblocks," he said vaguely. I was curious what those roadblocks were, but I knew he wouldn't tell me. It would hurt his large ego way too much. "Can you send me over what you have?"
"Sure," I agreed easily. "As long as I get credit in the article."
"I'm not going to copy anything that you wrote. Just using it as a jumping off point," he arrogantly shrugged off my request, as if it was a ridiculous ask. Despite the fact that I did all of that research and would have been able to write the article by Monday if it had been assigned to me, and I didn't run into a single 'roadblock', he still seemed to think that my work was beneath his. It was infuriating, but also gratifying that he was coming to me, asking for help. I would have loved to just not give him my research and watch him flounder as the due date was around the corner. However, it would feel even better to know that all of my hard work and research on the story was getting published, as long as I got credit for it.
"Sounds like without my research, you don't have anything to jump off of. So unless I get credit for the work I've already done, you'll have to work through those roadblocks," I said in my most professional, nice voice I could muster. I knew that Boris didn't like me, and I was sure he knew the feeling was mutual, but I tried to keep things as civil as possible.
He definitely didn't like that answer and I watched as his gray eyes rolled into the back of his head and then down again to look at me. I waited stubbornly for my answer, feeling my backbone harden in my seat as I refused to let this middle aged man intimidate me into letting him use my research without giving me any credit for doing the heavy lifting.
Learning how to say no to some demands at work was a long and tough lesson to learn, but once I got the hang of it, it had made my job so much easier. Understanding that I didn't have to give my work away to others without acknowledgment, and that I didn't have to be a team player if it meant everybody succeeding off of my back took a lot of stress off my plate. And by the childish roll of his eyes, I could tell that Boris understood that I wasn't going to let him take credit for my research.
"Well, I want to at least see what you have before I agree to anything. It might not even be usable," he huffed as he crossed his arms defensively over his chest.
I turned back toward my monitor to pull up the file of documents I had. Not to show him the actual research, but to let him see the amount and the type of research I created. I thought it was a stupid request, but I saw this as a compromise. Once I opened up the folder to show him the document titles, the little display of the time at the bottom of the screen caught my eye and I realized that I was supposed to leave a couple of minutes earlier.
"Crap, I have to go," I rushed out, shooting to my feet as I locked my computer screen and effectively shutting off Boris's access to my screen. "Let me know tomorrow if you want my help or not."
As I was frantically throwing my blazer over my blouse, I saw him glance down at his expensive watch and then say, "It's five. Don't you usually stay until seven?"
"I have a meeting," I informed him curtly. Even though I did usually stay later, I had already worked my eight hours and the rest of the time was overtime, so it wasn't like I wasn't putting in my work that day and I didn't appreciate his condescending tone. Again, it was just something I had to let go. Especially since I was running late and I wanted to give myself time to arrive at the restaurant early to provide ample time for me to panic in my car before meeting Casey again.
I didn't tell Eleanor very much about Shiloh, but I learned a lot about her during our last meeting. I learned that she just started going to school in the city, she wants to be an elementary school teacher and a clarinet tutor. She is very close with her mom and maternal side of her family. Overall, she seemed like a well rounded, happy girl who just wanted some justice for how terribly her mom was treated after her conception.
I wanted to give her that justice, and that was why I was doing this. I continued to remind myself of that all the way to the restaurant.
But I couldn't help but wonder what Casey would think of me after all this time. When he saw me, would he think I looked different or if I aged well? Will he think that I changed too much?
I wore my hair in a half up/half down style that day to keep my fly aways under control, my outfit consisted of straight legged khakis, low heeled sandals, a black blouse, and a black and white striped blazer. I would have gone home to change out of my business casual work outfit if I had time, but the restaurant was on the opposite side of town as my apartment, and it didn't seem worth it to pack another outfit.
I didn't want to care about what Casey thought of me after all this time, but I did. I couldn't help it.
Rushing into the restaurant, my best coping mechanism was to just move full steam ahead and focus on what we came here to accomplish rather than getting sidetracked with the awkwardness I felt toward Casey.
I saw Eleanor first as I entered the small Korean restaurant and a moment after, saw a tall man standing beside her. At first, I thought it was Micah. She'd told me earlier that she didn't plan on bringing her husband, but maybe there was a change of plans. Until I got closer, and I recognized the blond hair and soft pale skin. It was Casey. Not the awkward eighteen year-old Casey that I remembered, but a full grown, twenty-four year old man who towered over his sister and filled out his clothes to the seams.
"Sorry I'm late," I tried to ignore the panic that I felt rising inside of me as I hurried toward them. When I reached the two standing near the hostess booth, I greeted Eleanor with a short hug and refused to look in Casey's direction. "Something came up at work."
"No worries, we just got here," Eleanor assures me. "They're getting a table ready for us."
After a few quiet moments, I decided that I had to address him or things would be even more weird than they already were. Glancing up into his hypnotizing blue eyes, I just said, "Hi, Casey."
"Hey," he greeted me, a small smile forming in the corners of his round lips. He looked almost unrecognizable to me, but also so familiar in other ways. He was so tall and buff, his button up shirt hugging the round muscles of his biceps. Casey never had biceps before. "It's really good to see you, Josie. I can't believe it's been so long."
I can. And I didn't know why he found it so unbelievable that it'd been so long, as it was his decision to part ways. I didn't want to let my bitterness show, so I quickly cleared my throat, looked back at Eleanor and said, "Um, I'm thinking that I'll just stick around for appetizers and a drink to help introduce her, then let you guys talk by yourselves."
"You don't have to leave," she assured me and then glanced over at Casey before looking back to me. "But, I don't know, this is a weird situation. Let's just play it by ear."
"Sure," I agreed, and felt relieved the hostess began leading us across the dimly lit restaurant to a table near the back wall that was fit for four people. I wasn't sure where I should sit, staring at the square table and the four options.
Did I want to sit beside Casey where he would be able to talk to me more freely, or across from him where I'd be pretty much forced into much more eye contact with him? I couldn't decide, and ended up choosing my seat before he did so that I wouldn't have to.
Eleanor sat beside me, Casey took the one across and the second our eyes met again, I regretted my decision.
"So, how have you been?" he asked me once we were all seated and I was able to adjust my purse to hang from the corner of my seat. "You look really good."
"Good," I said dumbly. "I'm good. This story is a huge deal and it's been a lot of work to figure out how to maneuver it the best way I can. I don't want to be bias, but also obviously don't want this to affect your lives at all. I'll send you a copy before I give it to my editor, of course."
"I didn't mean in regards to the story. I'm surprised the piece of crap hasn't had a scandal like this already. I just meant, in general, what's new with-"
He was going to ask me what's new with me, which is a loaded question considering it had been six years and obviously, a lot was new with me within that time frame. However, I felt immediate relief when I noticed Shiloh's dark hair appearing through the front doors of the restaurant.
"She's here!" I interrupted his dumb question in a voice that was too loud for the room. Ignoring the volume of my voice and the looks I got from the tables around us, I stood up to catch her attention and wave her over to us.
I waited, still standing, until she saw me and then walked through the room to where we sat. "Hi," she stated awkwardly, her eyes darting back and forth between Eleanor and Casey.
"Thank you for coming," I said with a polite, yet nervous, smile. "This is Shiloh. And this is Eleanor and Casey."
After a mix of polite introductions, the 'nice to meet you's and handshakes, everybody sat back down just in time for the waiter to arrive and ask for our drink orders. I ordered an apple flavored soju for the adults and tea for Shiloh.
"When Josie told me that there were more secret babies, I was kind of relieved," Shiloh broke the silence after the waiter left. "It's kind of lonely, feeling like my entire existence is a dirty little secret."
"Yeah, it's definitely not something most people can relate to," Eleanor agreed with her. "We're glad that you found Josie and we could meet. If we find anymore of us, maybe we should start a club."
Shiloh laughed. "Or a support group."
"Where are you from?" Casey joined in the conversation.
"I grew up here. My mom worked as one of Silas's aides' assistants in her twenties. I know she's not blameless here, but she had just gotten out of a terrible relationship and she was in a really vulnerable place when it happened," Shiloh explained to them. "My mom's whole family lives nearby, I haven't left the city very much at all, really."
"Vulnerable women seem to be his type," Casey responded sarcastically.
Once the waiter returned with drinks and a platter of banchan dishes before taking dinner orders. I declined to order anything, thinking that even if I don't leave the meal early, I was too anxious to eat very much. I'd snack on the braised potatoes, bean sprouts, and kimchi options in front of me until I could get home.
"Do you still write about Silas at all?" Casey asked me after the waiter disappeared. "I try to keep up with your writing, but maybe I've missed some."
Why would he care to keep up with my writing? And why was he looking at me so much?
"No," I answered him, using chopsticks to pick up a cube of soft potato. "But those old articles are still posted online somewhere."
"I always thought it was so cute that you wrote so many slam pieces on him, like you were coming to my defense," he reminisced with a slight chuckle. The memory wasn't so fond for me and mentioning my deep affection for Casey that was then ruthlessly thrown in the dirt stung my entire body.
"The articles I found were really old, and I had to do a lot of digging," Shiloh confirmed. "But I wanted to make sure I brought this story to the right person."
I didn't understand Casey's demeanor at all. Why was he acting like nothing happened between us? Like we were just old friends, meeting up again to reminisce about those good ol' days. I didn't get it, because I wasn't under the impression that we were on such friendly terms. He said I looked good, asked me about my life, called me cute. None of which were things I was expecting from him, and it just confused me even more. If he cared about how my life was going, or wanted to catch up so badly, it shouldn't have taken Shiloh coming forward to do so. Somehow, all of his politeness and friendly banter just felt so manufactured to me.
I stayed at the table for about fifteen minutes. Enough time to drink my soju and snack on some potatoes and sprouts while the three of them got acquainted with each other. Then, I politely excused myself from the table and told them I was going to head out and let them get to know each other privately.
Eleanor hugged me goodbye and then Casey stood up to do the same. Just as he started spreading his arms to offer me that hug, I quickly shot my hand in between us to offer him a handshake instead. I didn't want to hug him, because I was afraid that I'd melt like a human popsicle just by his touch.
Did he still smell like window cleaner and cinnamon? And did he still give hugs that engulfed my entire body in an overwhelming sense of euphoria? Would I feel his faint breaths on the back of my ear like I used to and would it shoot a shiver of electricity down my spine? I wasn't ready to know the answer to those questions.
Without pause, Casey shook my hand and I wished them all a goodnight.
Once I got outside of the restaurant, I finally felt like I could breathe again. Given the circumstances, I didn't feel like I did too bad in there. But then again, I blacked out most of it, so maybe that wasn't the case at all. I was expecting the reunion to be awkward for everybody, and I didn't understand why it felt like it was only awkward for me.
I'd never ghosted anybody before, but surely I wouldn't be able to act so nonchalant about the whole thing? Even though it was six years ago, it felt weird that he didn't feel weird.
I stayed outside of the restaurant for a minute to catch my breath and allow the evening breeze on my face to calm me down. I was dialing Natalie's number on my phone to vent to her about how things went when I heard the front door of the restaurant open behind me.
When I saw Casey following me into the parking lot, I stood still and felt the panic rising in my stomach again.
"Hey," he exhaled, a nervous smile spreading across his features. It was strange to see him so grown up, his jaw so defined and skin so smooth. It was hard to look away. "Do you think we could meet up again sometime next week?"
"Um, sure. I'll have to check my work calendar and talk to Shiloh, but I'm sure we can set something up," I confirmed with a nod, not sure why he was asking but figured I'd just go along with it.
"I just meant, like us," he explained. "I think it'd be nice to actually catch up with you. Not about this Silas stuff, just to talk to you."
"Oh," I stuttered dumbly. "Um, I'll have to check my schedule." And by that, I meant, my schedule would be indefinitely too busy for a casual get together.
"Okay," he nodded in understanding.
"Have a good night, Casey," I said in a quiet voice before scurrying away to my car. I watched in my rear view mirror until he went back inside and then I rested my head on the steering wheel.
I was hopelessly in love with Casey for the entirety of high school, and he never noticed. Or at least never led on to the fact that he noticed. Then I spent the next two or so years after that trying to pick up the pieces of my poor, broken heart after he stopped talking to me. For the four years after that, I felt confident that those feelings were gone and I'd moved on from it.
But seeing him again that night, being his usual kind self, I felt like I was suddenly thrust right back into high school. Like nothing was even different at all.
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Song: Breakeven -The Script