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"Hey--you buh-better give that lady--your boss--a call," shit. He was right. If it was almost 6, it would be weird for you to call much later than that to let her know you'd be gone indefinitely. Your stomach dropped hard at the thought, and you began mentally scripting the call as you hovered the leaf-covered ground.
After wiping unceremoniously with some toilet paper Toby had tossed in the trunk from your house, and feeling pretty humiliated, you scrubbed your hands with a glob of hand sanitizer, shaking them until it dried and left your hands stinging a bit. You stood up and straightened your legs, shaking each a few times and hopping around to get the blood flowing again. You probably looked silly jumping and flailing, but it didn’t matter much to you at this point. Somehow, Toby had already seen you at your worst, physically speaking. And pretty bad psychologically, too, though not quite rock bottom. Giving your arms a few more swings, circles, and stretches, and making sure you could survive a bathroom-less journey for the next who-knows-how-long, you nodded curtly at Toby, who understood this signal as I’m ready. You felt bad for Pickle for a moment, thinking about her being cooped up in the car, but remembered that she spent about 22 hours of every day either asleep or inert in one comfy spot, then felt less guilty.
You hoisted yourself into the passenger seat once again, taking a few deep breaths and exhales to prepare yourself for the phone call to Adithi. You were hoping she didn’t answer and that it went to voicemail so that you didn’t have to lie on the spot or risk giving away your nervousness in conversation; if you could just spew the script all at once and hang up, it would be easier. But you prepared yourself for an interrogation, just in case. Slowly inhaling through your nose, you navigated to her contact and pressed call, closing your eyes as you did so. Your hand was shaking as you held the phone to your head, which you hoped was not causing any background noise. The line rang three times, then four--and your hopefulness for getting sent to voicemail grew. But, as fate would have it, Adithi picked up on the last ring. She answered with a yawn--
“Hey, Y/N, good morning! To what do I owe the pleasure of a…6 o’clock phone call?” she said with some sarcasm, but not in a mean way. Just playful and probably groggy. You cleared your throat and opened your mouth to reply, but the words got caught up and you found yourself just moving your jaw without peaking. Toby shot a glance towards you, but didn’t say anything--probably to avoid making you feel more pressured. Closing your eyes and lowering your head, you couldn’t help but feel everything rush to the surface at once. Without meaning to, you started to cry softly.
“I…uh--Adithi, look--I…I’m really, really sorry that I’m not doing this in person. I really am--this feels just, ugh, uh--very, very unprofessional. I am so sorry. I wish I would have made time to just see you and talk to you, but--I don’t know…uh…” you faltered a little bit. Adithi didn’t speak. “I, um, I need to leave. Like, I can’t work at um…at the library anymore. I--well, it’s not about the library, or the work or anything--it’s…it’s personal. I don’t know how to say it, but I have a lot going on with my family right now--with my parents’ health, I mean, and I just feel like--”
Adithi interrupted, “Oh my gosh, (Y/N), please don’t force yourself to tell me what’s going on! It’s so okay, oh my goodness--I had no idea about--well, I still don’t, I guess, but--it’s okay. I don’t want you to be upset. It’s okay. I understand. Um--” you breathed a sigh of relief.
“Yeah, uh, ah--thank you so much. I just--yeah. I know this is so sudden, and I gave you no notice. I would be more than happy to come in and see you and fill out a formal resignation letter and everything, just name the time and date. I--yeah, my, uh, well you know about my mom--her health hasn’t been so great lately, and uh,”--swallow--”I, well, I just spoke to her the other day and she told me that…she…got some bad news, and we really don’t know how things are gonna look for her in, yanno, even just a couple of months…” you said, hoping that she would dismiss your offers to formally quit.
Luckily, with your branch being so small (less than 6 regular employees, including 3 part timers) and in a quiet part of town, businesses and employers generally cared a little less about formalities. Plus, you had a pretty solid personal and professional reputation at your branch, and good rapport with Adithi. It was normal for branches to trade part-timers as needed or to fill in for absences, so you were kind of praying that someone would be able to take your place ASAP. Guilt about lying made you feel sick to your stomach, and made your hands feel shaky, but you knew it was for the best. Not just for the best--the only option. Absolutely necessary. For everyone’s sake.
Adithi tsked and said, “(Y/N), I--seriously, it’s okay. We--well, as you know, since we are a state institution, and since we receive funding from grants and whatnot, there are some forms that you need to, yanno, complete, right, but those can be done digitally, and you can just email them on over. No need for you to come in. I understand--well, I don’t really, but I sympathize with you, and…well, you know, you have been just a great person, a solid employee--a solid worker--and we really will miss you over here. If you are back home anytime soon, we would hire you back on, just like that,” you heard her fingers snap on the other end of the line. “If you need anything from me, I would be more than happy to help--I…just be safe, take care of yourself, okay? I can’t imagine what you must be feeling right now…I mean--are you leaving soon? My gosh, do you need help packing? What about your place?” you could hear the worry in her voice.
“Oh! No, don’t worry about me, I--I have some friends in town who are helping me out, I have my house covered. I, uhm, actually I am leaving today…I’m taking, uh, my car so--” gasp from Adithi “yeah, yeah, long road trip ahead, heh…but um, okay, just send those forms on over to me, I’m more than happy to write you a, uh, letter of resignation and everything and um, I can start on that just as soon as I am somewhere with WiFi. And, thanks again for being so understanding, I was so anxious about calling you, ha,” you said, wiping tears from your eyes and sniffling.
“Oh, hun…I’ll see you when I see you, okay? You take care--and I’m always a phone call away, okay?” you nodded, though she couldn’t see you.
“Ah--thank you so much, really. Okay. Okay, bye now--thanks again. Bye.” you ended the call and hung your head, phone falling from your hand which relaxed and lay limp in your lap. Face wet with tears and snot, you leaned your head back against the headrest, and sighed shakily. Whatever Adithi believed was happening in your life was apparently convincing enough to ask minimal questions, thank goodness.
Covering your face with both hands, you wept for a moment longer before drying your eyes. Pickle purred comfortingly, sensing your distress.
“Okay. I’m good. It’s cool…” you said to yourself, then turned to Toby. “Just like that, huh? It’s all gone…” whispering the last part as your voice broke, you looked at him vacantly.
He felt a twinge of something in his core, prompting him to fling his arm forward in your direction, hand landing softly on the console as he tapped his fingers for a moment, still looking at you, then inching forward to place his hand on yours, which lay in your lap. The sudden warmth on your hand felt nice, felt safe and comforting. In this moment, you felt crushingly alone--no job, no home, most of your stuff still left behind. And there was one glimmer of connection in it all, right here, right now, on the shoulder of some bum ass road in the Bible belt.