Nate tore through the remainder of the morning on autopilot, racking up sales and dealing with unhappy clients in his usual cheerful demeanor. He felt guilty about taking a lunch break after arriving so late, but when he reviewed his numbers, Nate decided that he had earned a coffee and a sandwich from the vending machine.
While the Red Robin offices were high-tech and shiny, the staff break room looked more like a room left to rot. Colorful inspirational posters covered the worst of the marks on the lemon-yellow painted walls, but ketchup splatters, coffee stains, and all manner of marks from foods unknown still showed up on the walls and the chipped linoleum floor. The tables and chairs were the fold-up variety most commonly seen at kids’ birthday parties, and while smoking was strictly forbidden in the building, burn marks still marred the tabletops. Given the drab interior, it was no real surprise that most employees went out for lunch, which was why Nate liked this space.
Slowly making his way over to the vending machines, he picked out a ham and cheese sandwich before sidling over to the coffee pot. Nate was surprised to see that the coffee looked hot and fresh. As he poured himself a cup of steaming hot java, his mind turned to Richard’s offer. He had always imagined himself sitting in his little cubicle - goddam it, boy, you are a waste of space - until retirement rolled around, but the thought of having his own office and of being in charge delivered a shiver of excitement that was very much out of character.
The hand on his shoulder snapped Nate out of his thoughts, causing him to jump and spill coffee over the floor.
“Shit, sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”
Placing the carafe back on the stand, Nate turned and glared at the man who had touched him. His anger quickly dissipated and turned to anxiety when he laid eyes on Gary Arden, one of the guys who always hung out with Mathers. Nate wanted to snap at him, to tell him what he really thought, but instead, he mumbled, “No worries.”
Gary surprised him by scooping up a handful of napkins and dropping down to wipe up the spilled coffee. When he stood, his face flushed red, but whether it was from exertion or embarrassment was impossible to tell. “Seriously, man. I really am sorry.”
Nate stared at the man, waiting for the inevitable jab, but it never came, the silence between them beginning to stretch into awkward territory. “Um. It’s fine.”
With a smile, Gary grabbed Nate’s coffee and sandwich, carrying them over to one of the empty tables. Nate followed, frowning as he sat across from his workmate. “Thanks,” he managed, lifting the cup to take a sip.
Running a hand through his slicked back blond hair, Gary glanced around the room before talking, as though checking to see if anyone was hiding in the shadows, spying on the conversation. “Listen, I…I just wanted to say sorry.”
Nate looked over the top of the coffee cup as he slowly sipped the hot coffee. Again, he waited for the other shoe to drop, but Gary simply stared back at him wearing a look like a kid caught stealing from the cookie jar. Nate placed the cup on the table, which wobbled and spilled more liquid. “Sorry for what?”
“For fucking Mathers and the way he treats you.” Gary broke eye contact and once again looked around the break room. “He’s a fucking Neanderthal.”
“Then why do you hang out with him? Nate snapped.
Recoiling as though slapped, Gary flushed red again. “It’s hard to explain.”
“Try me,” Nate said, suddenly feeling emboldened.
“I, um, wasn’t particularly popular in high school. Kids like Mathers frequently beat the shit out of me for no reason other than the fact that girls seemed to like me.”
“All the more reason not to hang out with people like that.”
“You’re not wrong, but…”
Nate looked at Gary, really looked at him, and saw much of himself reflected back. Up close and not surrounded by the other office bullies, Gary looked vulnerable and timid. Nate tried to imagine what his life would have been like - you’ll always be a fuck up - had his injury never happened. Would he have rebelled against his haters, or would he have found comfort in their company?
“…I finally felt accepted. For once in my life, the cool crowd, or what I thought was the cool crowd, wanted me on their side.” Gary hung his head. “I’m sorry.”
Closing his eyes and inhaling deeply, Nate thought back to his younger years. He saw the mocking, heard the constant berating from his father, and he knew that what Gary was saying was true. He stood and moved to the other side of the table, extending his hand. “Apology accepted.”
Gary stood and took the offered hand, nodding as they shook on it. “Thank you, Nate. I promise, no more bullshit from me. It’s tearing me up.”
“I eat lunch in here most days. You are welcome to join me.”
“I’d like that. Thank you for being cool.”
***
Nate pulled out of the parking garage and slipped into the traffic. Rush hour was essentially a 24-hour event in Atlanta, but things were worse at this hour of the day. He knew that getting home would take twice as long as getting to the office, but Nate didn’t mind. He used it as the perfect opportunity to decompress and think about the events of the day.
This Monday had been very different from all the others. Sure, there had been the usual stinging barbs from Mathers, but Nate also had a promotion to consider and a new friend to hang out with. He felt much more positive than usual, which was perhaps why he allowed his mind to drift, and why he missed the red light.
It was the blare of car horns and the sound of steel against steel that brought him crashing back to reality. He felt himself thrown sideways, his car spinning out of control and making him feel as though he were on some old-school fairground ride. Outside the shattered front windshield, the word spun, and then quickly changed direction as another vehicle slammed into his. This impact sent him forward, his forehead connecting with the steering wheel before the seatbelts locked in and the air bag deployed and smashed him in the face.
The world continued to spin even after the car stopped moving. Ticks and pops filled the cabin as the car began to cool. Nate could hear screams and sirens, but they sounded muted, as though he were hearing them from underwater. His vision swam for a moment before correcting itself for a second. It was then that he heard his mother’s voice, clear as day - I’ll kill him if he ever lays a hand on you.
As the blood began to fall down his forehead in a torrent, Nate blinked his eyes to try and keep it out, but it was a lost cause. Finally, closing his eyes, he has a moment to think, why doesn’t this hurt, before he blacked out.
I have an idea...
This poor man!!