Thank all the gods in the world that it's finally Saturday.
Becky has just finished her first full week at her new job, and in her brief two-month hiatus from employment, she forgot how exhausting it is to work full time. Even more so, since her new position carries more responsibility than she's ever had before. She ought to feel excited, or at least proud that she's moved up so high – a Vice President position at a decently sized firm is nothing to sneeze at – but for some reason she only feels tired, as though she's already been there a year.
Now, after a week full of introductions and handshakes and conference rooms and coffee breaks, Becky drags herself into the weekend like a shipwreck survivor dragging herself ashore.
On the other hand, the one upside of the exhausting work week was that it kept her mind occupied. Kept her from ruminating, thinking herself in circles. Kept her from dreaming up a life together that involved coming home to a kiss from her lover. From dreaming what it would be like to go out in public, together. To go to sleep next to each other and not have to sneak out in the morning and make some alternate excuse to the family. To walk down the street holding hands and do everything sappy and stupid that she's never wanted to do so badly in her life until now. When she can't. And when she knows full well that she'll say goodbye to any shred of this connection in fewer weeks than she can count on her fingers.
The other downside to this weekend in particular is that Becky won't even get the day to herself, since she's been roped into going to one of Irina's softball games with the family. Most of the family, anyway – Carolyn is off on some "leadership retreat", or so she claims. The official story is she's been retired from intelligence work for six years now, since she moved back to the U.S., but it's an open secret that she's still working for them in some capacity. She tends to disappear for days or weeks with mysterious excuses. Becky and Kenny haven't been able to determine exactly what her new position is – F.B.I., C.I.A.? Some kind of foreign ambassador? – but they share a chuckle every time she bids them goodbye with a new alibi.
Meanwhile, as Becky sits in the passenger seat with Constantine driving them out to Irina's preppy boarding school west of Boston, she pulls out her phone and texts her preferred member of the intelligence force.
iMessage with Bill Anong
Becky: I need some help with the Hitachi wand again
Becky: how are you with diagnosing mechanical issues
Bill: For Christ's sake, can you talk normally? I can't follow your metaphor
Becky: it's too dangerous!
Bill: Kenny already caught you didn't he?
Bill: Who else is likely to see your phone?
Becky: you never know, Carolyn might use the Patriot Act to snoop on my texts
Bill: I promise you that U.S. Intelligence has more important things to worry about than your personal drama
Becky: DO you, though?
Bill: fair enough but if they want to snoop on random sex stories there are kinkier ones than yours out there
Becky: ugh
Becky: did I tell you I strapped her?
Bill: You did not
Bill: I'm brimming with pride
Becky: don't underestimate me again!
Bill: That sounds peachy
Bill: What's the problem, then?
Becky: What would you tell someone who is maybe developing some sort of crush on said hitachi wand?
Bill: I'd say look for a good therapist
YOU ARE READING
And Our Parents
RomanceBecky, we are all adults here." "It's hard to take that seriously when you have your hand in my pants. The chemistry between Becky and Freen is obvious and immediate, so it's awkward when they find out their parents are getting married. This is a co...
