Page 12 of Ruining Hattie

HATTIE

I woke up feeling sad this morning. It’s Tuesday, which for a few weeks meant I would wake up excited and looking forward to that night. But now, knowing it means I’m losing the only person I’ve really felt connected to since we moved to Wisconsin, my mood is a one-eighty from where it was.

It’s ridiculous, I know. I haven’t known Bastion that long, but it feels as if I’ve known him forever.

From the moment we met, it felt as though he knew me.

I’ve grown comfortable already, and last week, I felt myself starting to shed the shy exterior I have with any new person I meet.

The only other person I’ve really been able to do that with was Taylor—and to a lesser effect, Rich.

I’m going to miss that feeling of connection once it’s gone.

I tell myself I can find it again with someone else, but will it really be that easy?

Since I met Bastion, it’s felt as though we have some kind of connection I can’t explain even though it doesn’t make sense, even to me.

A wealthy businessman thirteen years my senior who has clearly lived a much less sheltered life than me? But somehow, the connection is there.

I walk into work, saying a quick hello to some of my coworkers before taking a seat at my desk. I go through my usual routine of putting my purse in my drawer, turning on the computer, and checking for any voicemails before I get started on my tasks for the day.

But before I can really get going, my coworker Marwa swings by my desk. “We’re all supposed to meet in the conference room in ten minutes. The big boss has called a meeting.”

I frown. “What’s the meeting about?”

She shrugs, sending her long black hair behind her shoulder. “Not sure. I’m just spreading the word.” She flits off to tell the next person.

By big boss, I know she means the owner, Mr. Fitzpatrick. He’s not in here very often because he’s essentially half-retired, so it seems odd that he’s called a meeting.

The next ten minutes pass as though each second is an hour.

I grow more anxious as I stand from my desk and make the trek across the office to the conference room.

It’s standing room only when I arrive and look around.

Everyone is gathered in little circles, whispering about why we’re having this meeting. Theories are thrown out from everyone.

A couple of minutes later, Mr. Fitzpatrick enters the room with his son Tim, who runs the day-to-day operations now that Mr. Fitzpatrick has taken a step back.

Mr. Fitzpatrick is dressed as though he’s stopped here on his way to the golf course, and I relax a little.

If this were bad news, he probably would have dressed more professionally.

“Thanks for coming, everyone.” Mr. Fitzpatrick’s booming voice fills the room, and everyone quiets.

“Sorry for the short notice and the impromptu meeting, but I need to speak with you all about something that has recently transpired. I’m going to cut right to the chase.

” He looks around the room and sets his hands on his hips. “I’ve sold the company.”

It’s as if he’s lobbed a grenade in the middle of the room, and everyone is too in shock to say or do anything at first. It’s quiet for a few seconds before rapid-fire questions are directed his way.

Mr. Fitzpatrick raises his hands. “I know you all have questions, but rest assured, it will be business as usual. The new owner isn’t looking to change anything.”

“Who’s the new owner?” someone calls out, though I can’t see who it is over Ned, the tallest guy in the office who never has the courtesy to stand in the back.

“The new owner wishes to remain anonymous and will not be involved in the day-to-day operations. Tim will continue on in his role, as will all of you.”

Mr. Fitzpatrick’s gaze snags on me. Did I imagine that? No, he definitely paused for a moment. Oh jeez, I can’t lose this job.

“The truth is, I didn’t have any plans to sell, but I was approached with a good offer. When I was assured there wouldn’t be massive layoffs, I couldn’t refuse. Now I can really go enjoy my retirement.” He laughs, but no one joins in, all too scared of what this means.

Even though he’s assuring us that no mass layoffs are coming, everyone knows that the sale of a company means change. Surely this new mystery owner plans to do something differently.

“Tim, do you want to say a few words?” his dad asks.

Tim glances around the room. “For the majority of you, nothing will change at all. You’ll go about your business as you do now. Finance, obviously there will be some changes with new ownership at the helm, but once all the accounts are transferred over, we should be in the clear.”

I mentally process what extra work might be coming my way. Maybe this will be a good change. At least it’s not more of the same old thing, right?

Mr. Fitzpatrick says a few more words that I think are meant to make us feel more secure, then they tell us that we’re free to go back to work.

As I’m walking behind Ned, Tim calls, “Hattie, can you stick around for a moment?”

My stomach slides down my leg like a child on a waterslide.

Why me? So it wasn’t my imagination.

My coworkers file out, some of them giving me questioning glances and the others pitying ones.

Maybe he just wants me to handle something regarding the changeover for the finance team? At least that’s what I’m hoping for.

“Come have a seat.” Tim gestures to the chair at the conference table to the right of where he sits at the head.

I do as he asks, attempting to maintain my composure as though I’m not worried about what’s coming.

“There’s no easy way to say this, Hattie. I’m afraid we’re going to have to let you go.”

I’m sure my mouth falls open. I’m positive I’m staring at him. But he doesn’t even let the words sink in before he continues.

“The new owner wants to cut our personnel expenses, and he insists that we’re overstaffed in finance. It was decided that the person with the least amount of seniority would be the one to go.”

Tears well in my eyes, and I open my mouth, but nothing comes out.

“It’s not personal at all. If it were up to me, I’d offer Marjorie an early retirement package and keep you, but the new owner didn’t want to do that.”

“I… I…” Still nothing comes out of my mouth.

My mind is too busy considering all the implications of losing my job for me to form complete sentences. How long will it be until I find a new one? How long will the small savings account I have keep me afloat? How will I be able to help my parents with the medical bills if I don’t have a job?

A cold sweat breaks out under my clothes as Tim carries on, though I don’t hear the words.

I’ve just been fired.

Laid off technically, I suppose, though it doesn’t hurt any less. Plus, the end result is the same—I’m unemployed. I haven’t felt this low since everything went down with Rich at the end of college.

Tim stands from his chair and extends his hand, so I do the same, assuming I must have been dismissed. Though my hand connects with his, I feel numb, and I swear I can’t even feel our palms pressed together.

“Thank you for all the hard work you’ve done for the company these past three years. Please feel free to use me as a reference on your resume, Hattie. You were a great employee.”

A great employee who has just been laid off. A lot of good that did me.

“I’m not going to embarrass you by walking you out or anything, but if you could go collect your personal belongings from your desk and leave, that would be great. I know you’d never do anything to sabotage the company.”

I nod numbly, unable to do anything else.

I feel as if I’m floating as I make my way out of the conference room. I can’t even feel my legs. Diverting toward the copy room, I find a box of paper that only has a few reams left in it and empty it, carrying the box to my desk.

No one pays me any attention until I remove items from my desktop and place them in the box.

There’s not much to take—some pictures of me with my parents, a plant, and a plaque with a quote from one of my favorite books.

It’s sad, really, that this is what constitutes my life when other people’s spaces are overflowing with personal effects.

Once I grab everything off my desk, I open the bottom drawer and pull out my purse, tossing it in the box as well. I hear the murmurs start around the office, and I can’t decide whether I should go around and say goodbye to everyone or whether I should just leave.

Marwa saves me from having to make the decision when she approaches. “What happened? Why did Tim want to talk to you after?” Her dark eyes are filled with concern.

“I’ve been laid off.” My voice comes out raspy.

She gasps, and her hand covers her mouth. “What?”

“Apparently the owner said one person had to go from finance, and I’ve been here the least amount of time, so…” I shrug, willing myself to keep the tears at bay.

“Oh my god, are they going to be laying off anyone else?”

I shake my head. “I don’t think so.”

“I’m so sorry, Hattie.” She pulls me in for a quick hug, which surprises me. We get along, but we’ve never been close—mostly my doing.

“It’s not your fault.” I pull away, wanting to get out of here and away from all the attention. “I need to go, though.”

She nods in understanding. “Of course. Hit me up on socials, okay? Don’t be a stranger.”

I nod. “Will do. Say bye to everyone for me.”

And after one goodbye, I collect my box and somehow manage to keep the tears at bay until I seek refuge in my car.