Huffy

I don’t recall the moment where Mom told me she was pregnant with Brother. I was midway between ages four and five when he was born and I do remember going to the mall to pick out a toy.

“So you’ll keep Tenderheart,” Mom said, waddling at my side as she held my hand, “and give Birthday Bear to your little brother.” I’m reasonably certain I countered with an offer to let someone else have the baby while I kept the bear. This tiny creature would be the cause of my spending the first night ever away from Mom and, even worse, my precious toy room had recently been converted to a nursery. I most certainly did not approve.

Now, closer to age thirty than twenty-nine, I still try bargaining. And pout severely when thwarted.

“But,” I protested after being chained to my desk yet again, “I want to go! I told them I would and we’ve planned the dates and…” I trailed off when he continued to shake his head. “I want to go,” I said, frowning darkly and glaring as hard as I could.

“We’ll go later,” he said, returning gaze to computer screen.

“I want to go now,” I said softly, earning me a quirked eyebrow and a bit more attention from the man for whom I work. “Fine,” I said, when I realized he wasn't budging, closing my notebook with a snap, tossing my hair and moving briskly from the room. I glanced at the computer waiting on my desk but left it alone, instead slipping my index finger through the loop on my key ring and heading toward the door into the dark evening.

Just as I slowly accepted the little boy (who, by the way, slept with that yellow bear until he got married at age 21), I came to terms with Adam’s refusal of my request. So when the ringing of my cell phone was accompanied by his name on the display, I flipped it open and said hello.

“You can’t take it personally,” he instructed after greeting me. “You still have some maturing to do and things to learn so I don’t like you taking high profile trips on your own.”

“Yes,” I agreed, “because you have no faith in me at all.”

“No,” he laughed, “because I have much to teach you, young one.”

“Then you should do it!” I complained. “I feel like you’re setting me up to fail by not allowing me to do a vital part of my job and saying you’ll teach me later while everyone else travels all the time. So I am worried and don’t tell me not to worry because I am worried.”

“December,” he replied. “We’ll travel together next month.”

“Sure,” I said sarcastically, and blinked with dismay as soon as the word was uttered.

“I promise,” he offered and I nodded before offering a quiet agreement. We moved on to discuss another matter before saying a friendly good night. I wondered, having flipped the phone closed again, if I was tremendously lucky to work for someone who would take the time to explain a decision that had upset me or if poor Adam was just encouraging my bad behavior.

I’ll let you know how it all turns out.