The Unforgettable

“Gianna!” erupts the stern voice of my boss, yanking me out of my thoughts.

I spin around in my chair to face him. “Yes, Mr. Piller?”

“Come with me to my office, now.”

He gives me a look and my heart sinks, I’m about to get fired, this is the second time he’s had to come to my desk today and the fifth time this week and it’s only Wednesday.

I rise from my chair, all of my co-workers’ eyes are on me. I walk out of my cubicle and follow him down the abnormally quiet hall. No one should be this quiet considering this is a call center, everyone’s just being nosey.

I follow Mr. Piller to his office, he opens the door, lets me go in first then walks in and shuts the door. Quietly he strides over behind his desk, sits in his leather chair, gestures for me to sit in the chair on the other side of his desk so I do and clasps his hands together interlacing his fingers.

“Gianna, I have had several complaints made from customers on your file in this week alone. I have also had at least two of your fellow coworkers come to me complaining about your failure to
complete your work. You’re sending off incomplete work and the person in the middle must finish your work before sending it off along with the dealing with the pile of their own work. Normally I would not even give this a second thought or even bother to call you to my office. Normally I would just have Katie meet with you and let you know that you are fired. But you have never given me a problem in the few years you’ve worked here. You have always excelled at anything thrown your way in this office. I enjoy having you as a part of this company. . .” He leans forward, “So, would you like to tell me what’s going on?”

I stare at his hands, I stare at the gold wedding band on his finger and the words emotionlessly fall out of my mouth.

“My husband’s been cheating on me and I think my marriage is over.”

The room is awkwardly silent, Mr. Piller leans back in his chair again. I know he doesn’t know what to say, hell I don’t know what to say. He notices me watching the ring on his hand and he begins twisting it which causes me to finally look at his face that was before hardened, now a little bit softer.

“I’m sorry,” I say. “I don’t mean to come to work with personal problems, I- I just can’t get it out of my head. . . I don’t mean to be distracted. And you having to come to my desk more than once is unacceptable. . . I understand if you do want to fire me.”

I feel empty inside. He’s quiet a few more seconds, nodding and then he finally speaks.

“Maybe you should take the rest of today and the next couple days off. . . I’m very sorry that you are having marital issues. . . I was once in a similar situation so I understand.” He clears his throat. “Take these last two days off and with that you’ll already have the weekend off. For these next four days surround yourself with some friends and family even if you can’t tell them about it. It’ll help, trust me.”

He sighs and I glance back at his ring, I wonder if his wife’s been cheating on him or if he’s speaking of a past relationship.

“But you come back to work ready to work though, I can’t say I’ll be so lenient next time. I know it’s hard but you’ll have to get over it someday. If anything let the work distract you,” his voice stern again.

That seemed a little rude, but I shrug it off. He is kind of right though.

“Thank you, Mr. Piller.”

He simply nods and I am dismissed, I rise from the chair and leave his office. I am greeted by a bunch of peering eyes and I try to ignore them all as I make my way back to my desk to collect my purse and things and walk out of the building.

I’m not sure what to do now, it’s only three and I usually get off at six to be picked up by Christoph. He doesn’t get off until five and I don’t think I would’ve wanted to ride in the car with him anyway as he tries to make conversation and make me forget that he’s the enemy.

I start to walk down the sidewalk, ignoring all that’s going on around except what’s in my head. I can’t help but wonder if he’s with her now. He has to see her every day, talk to her at least once since she is the first thing he sees when he enters the building, last one he sees walking out.
I walk through a muddy puddle that soaks my shoes, I look down to see they’re more brown than yellow now. God dammit. I shake my head, curse under my breath and look up to see I’m standing outside of a restaurant. Then I notice that I am hungry and I remember that I haven’t eaten a thing all day.

I walk inside to be greeted by a young college student standing behind a podium.

“Hello ma’am, how many?”

Ma’am? Do I look that old? I might be at least three years older than her, she shouldn’t be calling me ma’am I’m not old yet.

“Just one,” I say tiredly.

She cheeses at me and tells me to follow her. I’m lead a table with chairs and I ask if I could be moved to a booth, she looks like she must think about it first then finally agrees and leads me to one. I thank her, sit down and read the menu. The more I read it the hungrier I get, my stomach grumbles aloud to make things worse. I settle for a cheeseburger and place my menu down. My waiter comes by and I order it along with a cup of black coffee.

I grab napkins from the dispenser on the table and position myself in the best way and begin to clean off my shoes. The mud just smudges and blackens the yellow suede shoes even more. I groan, set the dirty napkins on the seat and sanitize my hands with the bottle of sanitizer I keep in my purse. As I’m rummaging through my purse I notice a figure near. I look up expecting it to be my waiter, but it’s some curly black haired guy with soft eyes, pointy nose and a toothy smile on his face.

“Hi, excuse me ma’am,” – there’s that ma’am word again-. His voice has a hint of a foreign accent.

“Do you mind if I borrow your sugar, they seemed to have forgotten to put any at my table.”

He points a thumb towards the booth just in front of me.

“Sure, go ahead,” I reply.

I grab the sugar and slide it towards him, he thanks me and disappears behind the booth.

I take to staring out of the window, watching a bird hop and flutter chasing a leaf blowing in the wind, I wonder if it’s making a nest.

I didn’t notice my waiter already came by with my coffee and a bowl of creamer packets until I look away from the window and there they are. How long was I staring out of the window?

I start pouring the packets into my coffee and realize that I still don’t have the sugar. I wait a minute longer and still no sugar. I sigh because I really don’t feel like getting up to ask for it, I know I don’t come off as the kindest person in the world right now. I don’t feel like one either.

I slide close to the edge of seat and peer around to see him on the farther side from me, not using the sugar but now munching on a plate of fries and scrolling through his phone. I roll my eyes and clear my throat. He doesn’t look up from his phone, my goodness.

I rise from my booth and now stand near his table. “Excuse me, are you done with the sugar?”

He looks at me in surprise, fry hanging from his mouth.

“Oh!” he removes the fry. “I’m so sorry, I don’t know how I forgot to return the sugar. I was distracted by these fries I guess.”

He smiles, embarrassed and passes me the sugar.

“It’s fine,” I don’t return the smile and return to my seat.

I pour sugar and stir it all up into my cup and take a sip, my burger arrives I thank the man and take a bite.

I eat more meals alone now, it’s usually take out. I don’t bother cooking anymore because that would mean I have to cook for him too and why should he get to enjoy anything I’ve put my time and care into. Who knows how many meals I’ve made for that man after his mouth was just on hers then he comes home munching on my food that I made and has the nerve to kiss me.

I hang my head low and sigh, I don’t know how much longer I can live like this. . . After a few minutes of brooding I try to push it aside and finish my burger. I only make it through half of it then ask for a box and my check.

The waiter returns with a Styrofoam box, my check on a tiny clipboard with a pen and a piece of pie. He sets it all down and I look up at him.

“Um, I didn’t order pie.”

He nods, “he ordered it for you,” he moves his head towards the direction of the sugar hog then walks off.

My eyebrows knit together and I stare at the piece of pie filling my nose with the sweet smell. It’s apple pie, my favorite in fact the only pie I will even eat. I straighten my posture to look over the seats to be greeted with his kind eyes. My eyebrows knit together and then he smiles that toothy smile again, I feel my cheeks warming and look back down at the pie. I guess I should thank him, but what I really want is to know why.

So, I count out my money to pay the bill and leave a tip, I hike my purse onto my shoulder and grab my box and the plate of pie and walk over to his table placing it down. He frowns a little, looking up at me, placing his phone down.

“Why’d you buy me pie?” I ask, my tone is a bit harsher than I anticipated.

He now knits his eyebrows then speaks, “most people would just say thank you and eat it.”

I nod, “well I’m not most people.”

He chuckles lightly, “I can see that. It’s. . . A form of an apology.”

I stand there dumbfounded, “for what the sugar?”

He nods, looking amused and I shake my head. “I accept your apology, but I can’t accept this, it was just sugar it’s not like I own it anyway. So you enjoy your pie. Thank you anyway.”

He frowns again and the waiter comes by placing a fresh piece in front of the man. He nods and thanks the waiter, I watch the waiter walk to my table and collect the things on the table, then I look back at the curly haired guy.

“I can’t eat two slices my dear, please take the pie. In fact, why don’t you join me?”

“What,” I say, turning even more red.

He sighs, “look, you seem as though you are having a bad day. I saw you out there in the mud and you looked rather emotional sitting at that table alone. Please, will you have a seat and enjoy this delicious pie with me?”

I stand there dumbly, a family of six being led by the hostess tries squeezing by so I huff and sit down to get out of their way. He smiles brightly at me and I just look at him. What the hell is up with this guy?

He looks down at my plate seeing I don’t have a fork and says ‘oh,’ lightly and passes me his napkin wrapped utensils.

“Did I choose the right pie?” he asks, taking the fork given to him with the pie and taking a piece, popping it into his mouth.

I simply nod.

He hums, “Mmm, you can never go wrong with apple pie.”

I smile a tiny bit and unwrap the silverware, forking some into my mouth. The soft warm crust and the warm gooiness and apple slices livens my taste buds and I can’t help but smile even more. Damn I love apple pie.

“Ah, there we go. Finally, a smile instead of a scowl,” he says playfully.

I roll my eyes and then swallow, “have you been watching me this whole time?”

He shrugs forking more into his mouth, “just casual glances. I’m no creep I promise. I just like to people watch, read their body language and emotions.”

“What are you a psychologist?” I ask.

He gives a small smile, “well, psychotherapist.”

I nod again, “that must be an interesting field.”

“It is, I enjoy it a lot. I like learning about humans and our brains. Helping with problems that seem impossible.”

I look back down at my plate and take another small bite, we’re silent for a few moments. But it’s not an awkward silence, it’s just a comfortable one. We finish our pie, the waiter comes by and collects the plates and he pays then sets his eyes on me.

“Thank you for sharing this time with me.”

I give him a small smile, “thank you for the pie.”

“Thank you for the sugar,” he chuckles a little. “What are you up to now?”

I hadn’t really thought of what I’d spend my time doing next, I check my phone for the time, it’s only 4:06.

“I don’t know” I say shrugging. “I guess I’ll have to go home soon,” I sigh sadly.

I hate being home alone but I hate it even more when Christoph’s there. The curly haired man frown’s and he narrows his eyes a little.

“Are you reading me?” I ask lightly.

He laughs, “I suppose I am.

His laugh is nice, it makes me smile.

“Would you like to go on a walk? I have time to kill and I rather enjoy your company. I’d rather spend the time with you than alone.”

I flush red again, cheeks turning pink, I know he notices because how could he not I’m as pale as a marshmallow. I begin gnawing on my lip, I don’t know if I should go off walking into the sunset with some stranger.

“I promise,” he looks at me seriously. “I won’t try anything, or whisk you away and hide you in my trunk.”

That makes me laugh, “that only worries me more now that you’ve brought it up.”

He laughs too and hangs his head still laughing. Then with that sweet toothy smile he rests his eyes on me again, “Please will you walk with me. . . I’m sure with as beautiful as you are, you’re already taken, huh.”

I start to change colors again, he just called me beautiful. He’s the one who is beautiful, with those green bright eyes, soft looking curly hair, strong jawline and olive skin. Chris doesn’t even cross my mind as I agree to go on a walk with this man.

He holds the door open for me as he grabs two peppermints from the ‘Thank you for coming’ jar. We walk down the sidewalk and he offers me the other peppermint I take it, telling him to place it on top of the takeout box I’m carrying.

“Would you like me to walk you to your car while you set your things down?” he asks.

“Oh, no I only walked from my job, I didn’t drive today.”

“Hm,” he says.

We walk together in silence, he offers to carry my things but I politely decline. And as we’re passing some cars parked on the street he speaks again.

“My car is parked here; would you like to set your things down at least?”

He walks towards a shiny black car, it looks fancy but I know nothing about cars. He hits a button on his key fob causing the lights to blink and he tells me it’s unlocked as he goes to the passenger door, he reaches out for the box and asks if I want to leave my purse but I decline. He sets the box onto the seat and opens up the glove compartment and rummages through papers. I watch the cars on the road as they drive by, but my eyes keep finding their way back to him eventually. I find myself staring at his butt, it looks so shapely in his jeans as he leans into his car. Soon he sits up, whips around and shuts the door. I blush again with a smile on my face and quickly advert my eyes as he locks the doors with his fob again.

He notices and laughs that sweet laugh again, “what? What are you smiling about?”

I shake my head and he smiles not pressing the matter anymore. I noted that I liked that about hi, he doesn’t force me to say things. We walk towards downtown on now the busier sidewalk, asking each other questions.

“Where do you work,” he asks.

“The call center that’s a few blocks away. . . You?”

“I have my own office not too far from here.”

I nod and we continue, asking each other questions. And once we finally reach a park a little down the way it starts to drizzle out of no where.

“Oh no,” he frowns, he looks disappointed and the rain only picks up. “We should hurry back.”

We start on our way back and it really starts to rain, the one time I forget my umbrella, it rains. What luck. His arm slides around my waist as he tries to quicken my pace to ffollow his step and I flush red once again, at least he can’t see it this time, or at least he’s not paying attention.

We finally make it back to the parked cars, he presses his clicker and the lights shine and the doors unlock, I without thinking hop into his car because I’m dripping wet and I don’t want to be in the rain anymore. He starts the car but explains he can’t start the heater yet until the car warms up, but I’m already shivering.

“Let me see your hands,” he says.

I reach them out, he clasps them in his own and brings them to his mouth, blowing hot air onto them. I’m turning red again and bite my lip to get rid of the slight smile. His eyes look at my own and he stops blowing, to move some wet hair covering my face and he tucks the strands behind my wet ear. He smiles at me, his hand lingering then he turns away and finally blasts the heater.

“Would you uh, like a ride home?”

My eyebrows rise, I didn’t think I should ride with him, but also didn't see what the harm would be. I glance at the clock on his dashboard. It’s 5:15, Chris will probably be home soon before he thinks he has to leave and pick me up. I sigh, because I really don’t feel like waiting in the rain for a cab and I don’t feel like going home to play pretend. I shrug and say ‘okay,’ I start to give him the directions to my house and we’re there sooner than I hoped because the rain lightened up once we got away from the downtown area.

We’re idling next to my mailbox and I don’t want to get out, but I see Chris’s car in the driveway so I know I can’t sit here for too long so I collect my things and look at him again.

“Thank you for the ride. . .” It occurs to me that I don’t even know his name. “Gosh,” I say, “I don’t even know your name.”

He gives me his toothy smile again, wiping water away that’s dripping from his hair onto his forehead.

“It’s Giancarlo, but you can call me Carlo.”

That’s what that hint of an accent is, he’s Italian.

“What about yours?” he asks.

“Gianna,” I reply.

“Gianna,” he says. It sounds right coming out of his mouth with his Italian accent. “What a beautiful name for a beautiful woman.”

I blush again then I notice the porch light at the house flickers on. I sigh a heavy one and extend my hand.

“It was nice to meet you Carlo.”

He takes my hand gently and kisses the top, “it was very nice to meet you as well.”

I bite my lip again, again changing hues as I retract my hand and collect my things.

“Here take my card,” he reaches into the slot in hi door and pulls out a little white business card.

It reads, ‘Take a breath and clear your head. Giancarlo Mancini: Therapist, Confidant, Listener, Friend. Call: (722)-266-5431.’

“Nice card, is this how you get all your new clients?”

I feel stupid, I can’t believe I thought he found me interesting or likeable. He’s just recruiting new patients.

He chuckles, “not particularly. . . But you don’t have to call me up as a client, call me as a friend.”

“Like your card says,” I say a little disappointed.

He laughs, embarrassed and it’s his turn to brighten red and then shrugs. “I’m just always working and that number is for my phone here,” he pats his pocket.

I raise an eyebrow at him, “no personal phone? You don’t ever get bogged down with everyone constantly wanting you to lend an ear?”

His bottom lip pokes out as he frowns a little shaking his head, “I’d feel out of touch and neglectful if I had another phone because it would be very easy to turn my work phone off at five on the dot every night. And if someone’s having a crisis at one in the morning, I wouldn’t be there to prevent it from getting worse.”

Sweet man, I guess they aren’t all dicks, maybe it's just the American ones. I glance at the clock, it’s 5:36, Christoph’s going to be preparing to leave any second now.

“I have to go inside now, thank you so much for the ride. It was a nice time.”

“My pleasure, I hope to hear from you again soon.”

I smile, he smiles back and I slide his card into the zipper part of my purse, grab my box of food and hurry up to the front door. I turn back and wave, he waves then drives off. I sigh, sadness grabbing hold of me again and open the door, to be greeted by Chris who looks like he’s about to head out.
“What? Hey Gianna. Uh, how’d you get home? Why are you drenched?” he looks rather confused and backs away from the door.

I debate whether to lie and say I took a cab, but that would make me no better than him and I am in fact better than him.

“A friend dropped me off, got caught in the rain,” I push my way past him and into the kitchen to find a place in the fridge to put my to-go box in.

Chris is leaning against the counter eyeing me. “You get off early?”

I just nod and walk into the bedroom because I really want to get out of these wet clothes.
He follows me, “Why? What’s the occasion?”

I narrow my eyes at him, getting annoyed. “Because my boss told me to. Any more questions?”

He shrugs, “I’m just surprised. You’ve never gotten off early before.”

“Yeah lucky for you,” I say harshly unbuttoning my shirt, wanting to just yank the shirt open and let all the buttons fly off. “I probably would’ve stumbled in on you fucking Leana right?”

I roll my eyes at him, he stands there just outside of the threshold of the room not knowing what to say and I storm towards the door slamming it in his face and locking it. I’m extremely angry and frustrated and tears threaten to stream down, a couple escape but I blink the rest away as I peel my wet clothes off and take a hot steamy shower.