CARTER'S DUTY: WILLIAM CARTER
III
Chapter 09 - By Christopher Patrick Lydon
Will watched the clock. A pastime that was enjoyed by employees
the world over. The last half-hour of his day was usually spent like that.
He booked his interviews for the next day and wrote up the last of his daily
performance reviews. Evaluations were always a lot of paperwork, but Scott
demanded everything be in writing. Will was tired; he had rushed about his
office juggling his own work as well as the "busy" work that Scott
had saddled him with. And as the day drew to a close, he found that he anxiously
awaited five o'clock and the chance to go home.
Blessedly, Scott had gone home early that day, and about the
call center there was a notable change in atmosphere. There was laughter,
actual laughter out on the sales floor. It was a refreshing sound in a place
so locked in the stress of appeasing a man who could never be satisfied. A
couple of agents were standing up, injecting their newfound energy into their
presentations. There was a vitality about that hadn't been there earlier in
the day. The watchful eye of the slave driver was gone, and his minions could
allow themselves to ease off of the oars. And it showed; the computer beside
him tracked the daily sales figures, and the slow and steady numbers of earlier
were being eclipsed by much better results.
"They're certainly going now;" Ken observed, as he
poked his head around the door to Scott's office Will had commandeered to
conduct the evaluations, "they seem happier with just Brad here."
"I should hope so," Will said, as he put the finishing
touches on his paperwork. "They needed some good numbers; if nothing
else it boosts their confidence and morale."
"And ours." Ken replied, taking off his headset. "How
much time do we have?"
"Ten minutes," Will replied, as he glanced back at
the clock and drained the last of his fifth cup of coffee. "I'm done
here so if you wanted to duck out early, I'll watch the floor."
Ken shook his head, "That's ok, I can stay; you just relax,
you've earned it."
Will blew out a sigh, "You got that right, old man; another
day, another fifty-cents after taxes." He smiled, "That's about
thirty-three-cents Canadian."
They both chuckled at that as Alicia pushed her way past Ken
to drop her clipboard on the desk; she yawned dramatically before she pushed
her way out again without a word. She was as anxious as the rest of them to
go home and back to her life. Will couldn't blame her. And as she tugged on
her coat back at her desk, the sales floor became more excited. They saw her
get her coat, and they knew that their own day was coming to a close. One
or two of the agents pulled on their own coats in anticipation.
Will gave them an amused look as he logged out of his computer
and left Scott's office to join Brad up at the central station. Ken followed
along to return his headset to the charger. There was something about the
end of the day, something that filled him full of enthusiasm.
"Log out!" Brad bellowed almost as soon as Will sat
down.
The stampede that followed always reminded Will of why he had
never elected to teach. Schools may have had little in common with a call
centre, but the desperate rush to the doors by soulless people in a race to
escape the dreariness of a life on a telephone reminded Will of his own teaching
days.
"Well we made it," Brad observed as he tallied up
the daily sales figures.
"And all it took was for Scott to go home;" Ken replied.
"Think they'll ever realize that upstairs?"
Brad smirked to himself, but carefully avoided responding, though
Will caught the sly smile. Brad Gilmour was next in line for Scott's job,
and given a chance would excel at it, especially if that evening was any example.
It was only a matter of time until someone upstairs put two and two together
and saw the results were timed exactly to Scott's absence. Brad was ultimately
confidant that time would show how good he really was. And he was that good,
he had to be; he was a former investment broker and was used to larger capital
sales. Until his name had earned a place on the national blacklist. He and
Ken had both suffered the same fate when their last company had folded. But
that was well before their time at the Ottawa call centre.
"Well, on that note," Will said as he stood up, "I
am going to head out; I'll see you both tomorrow, gentlemen."
"Night, Will," Ken offered with a grin.
It was rush hour in the city when he finally started his drive
home; it was a nightmare of cars, heat and frayed tempers as everyone tried
to get to the same place at the same time. Will wound the car through the
traffic as he headed downtown to pick up Andrew. Unlike the morning commute,
he enjoyed it when he picked Andrew up at the end of the day. It was the one
time of the day when he could just enjoy himself; he felt his foot press down
on the accelerator as he cruised against the flow of traffic that headed in
the opposite direction. He couldn't help but grin and feel sorry for the poor
sods who tried to head for home.
Andrew waited for him when he pulled up at the school. The young
law student had been sitting on a bench outside the student union building
reading a book on ethics and he seemed to enjoy the lazy summer evening. He
grinned broadly when he looked up over the rims of his glasses and caught
sight of Will. A few minutes later he hopped into the passenger seat.
"Hey," he said as he sat his book bag on the back
seat and gently rested a hand on Will's shoulder and leaned in to give Will
a gentle kiss on the cheek.
"Hey," Will replied as he turned the car back onto
the street. "How was your day?"
"I scored high on that paper you helped me with."
Andrew fumbled to buckle his seat belt and shifted to get comfortable, "Thanks,
by the way."
Will shrugged, "No need to thank me; you wrote it, I only
cleaned it up for you. So what do you have for tonight?"
"Oh, just some readings and a bit of study for my mediation
class." Andrew gave him a roguish smile, "Nothing that I can't put
off, though."
"Good," Will declared, as he suddenly cut the car
down a side street. "I'm taking you out to dinner. Consider this a kidnapping
for a couple of hours."
Andrew laughed, "Could we stop at a Mall, though? We really
should get Lisa and Jeff a wedding present."
Will nodded, ignoring the plainly marked speed limit as the
Jeep accelerated through the subdivision. He loved to drive, and in a way
he had a chance to spend some alone-time with Andrew. It was a rarity between
school and work. It seemed sometimes like it was always a competition for
time; the demands of modern life were hard on any relationship. Will could
appreciate that work and school had to come first, and it was just that simple.
Whatever time came in between was simply borrowed; it had to be paid back
at a later time. It was a frustration; they both had so little time for each
other. Yet Andrew was stubborn and wouldn't let Will get away with ignoring
that fact.
They had argued about it occasionally. Will had been the instigator
of the fight. He was adamant that Andrew focused so much time on his schooling
that there was no time left for them. How could he come first if Andrew was
unwilling to give time away from his studies? But it was a pointless argument
designed purely to hide his own selfish insecurities. The pain of their first
real separation had been hard, too hard he supposed, and he had tried to hurt
Andrew just to prove those insecurities correct, to push the guy to leave
sooner, rather than later when it would hurt more.
However Andrew hadn't taken the bait. They had argued, until
Andrew had calmed down enough to point out how irrational Will was being.
School came first, yes, but all the rest of his time and energy was devoted
to Will. That, and Will had been a jerk who didn't appreciate that. Will had
little choice but to concede defeat; he was faced with a situation where he
was being irrational and couldn't deny it. And once he saw that, he couldn't
really exert such irrationality, he had no choice but to back off. He hadn't
expected such a blunt reaction to his behaviour, but then Andrew wasn't really
the type to play games.
They were hopelessly in love, insecurities or not, doubts or
not. All the arguments did was prove that fact. And then there was the cute
exasperated look Andrew would get on his face when he thought Will had finally
gone insane. As if to say with a look, shut up and kiss me damnit.
Will mused on that as he parked the car at the St. Laurent mall
and they both got out. How did he come to be with such an atypical guy? The
answer really was he hadn't. Andrew had been the aggressor. No matter how
many times Will had tried to push him away, Andrew had kept persistently returning
refusing to take no for an answer.
They had met when they were still in high school, Will a picked
on insecure young man and Andrew the complete opposite. And yet there had
been a bond formed, whether through that first night in the storm when they
had clung to each other, or from their first kiss under a street light in
a park. You couldn't just ignore something like that.
God had said `let there be love,' and there was.
Now six months later they were in the houseware section of Sears
looking at wedding gifts.
Will held up a lava lamp, "Think this suits them?"
"If you wanted to give them something to enjoy when they
are stoned," Andrew replied. "What about a painting or something?"
"No, Jeff paints," Will replied, as he shuddered inwardly.
If he bought them artwork it would go over like a lead balloon. Their tastes
were so divergent that it was an argument that waited to happen; Will couldn't
expect them to agree on much. Besides the temptation to buy them `Dogs at
cards' would be just too great for Will to resist. Lisa wasn't someone who
appreciated Will's sense of humour at the best of times, and he remembered
his birthday approached; he had no desire to find a place for a particularly
nasty piece of pottery Lisa would give him as a revenge gift.
Andrew hefted his backpack back to his shoulders, "We've
been at this for over an hour, I'm starving," he complained. "Couldn't
we just get something on the registry?"
"Ah," Will said in distaste, "no, I like gifts
to actually be personal."
Gift registries; a strange custom where a couple pre-selects
the gifts they want to receive. Sure it had its advantages; Jeff and Lisa
wouldn't get five toasters come their special day. But Will could never get
past the fact that it was too much like cheating. Who wanted to know what
they were getting before they got it? Defeated the purpose of a gift. Wasn't
the whole point of buying something for someone the actual buying process
itself? To find that perfect gift that said exactly how he felt about them?
The lava lamp was perfect for that.
"Well we could stop into the lingerie section," Andrew
offered. "That would be personal."
Will winced at the thought, "Now there is something entirely
wrong about two men shopping for women's underwear, even if we are gay."
"Sure," he said with a grin as he punched Will's arm.
"Admit it you just want me to model it for you. Something black and lacy..."
An old woman gave them a scandalized look before she scuttled
off. Will couldn't help but smile at that. No matter how far society evolved,
the capacity for the younger generation to shock little old ladies remained
a favourite pastime.
"No," Will said as he composed himself, "I don't
think we should do that, but we can get them his-and-hers matching bathrobes."
"Perfect!" Andrew exclaimed. "I saw this great
flannel robe on the way in. It would look perfect on Lisa."
"How about a plain one?" he asked as he tried to keep
up with the excited jock as he navigated through the maze of clothes racks
heading for the bedroom attire.
"There's nothing fun about plain," Andrew retorted,
already digging through the racks looking for something appropriate.
Will groaned, but relented. Andrew had every right to add his
opinion to the purchase. Yet another example of how intertwined their lives
had become over the last few years. It was a complication, sure, but Will
wasn't going to complain just yet. They had their rough patches, but, as Andrew
lifted out an especially garish-looking red-flannel robe, Will had to admit
how bright and spirited the man was. Especially when he put up with such an
old-fashioned guy like Will.
Once safely through the register and back on their way to the
restaurant, Will's cell phone rang.
"Go ahead," Will said as he answered it, glad that
their time in the mall had allowed rush hour to abate.
"Hey, Will, it's me," Jeff's voice replied.
Will blew out a sigh, "Yeah, old man, what's up?"
He glanced over at Andrew who frowned at the phone.
"My family just got into town," Jeff continued after
a pause, "and I was wondering... that is, since you have the space...
if you would mind putting them up for a few days?"
Will's shoulders slumped, "Umm..."
"They'd get a hotel," Jeff rushed on, "only this
way it would save them some money and some time come Wednesday."
Will let out a slow breath again, "Sure thing, Jeff; we'll
be home in a few minutes." He closed the phone and looked over at Andrew
again, "Can I get a rain check on dinner out? Jeff's parents need a place
to stay and they are probably waiting for us."
Andrew nodded in disappointment, "Sure, I've got some homework
to get done anyway, and I can probably cook something when we get there."
Will smiled, "Hey, why don't we order in?" he said,
as he handed Andrew the phone and turned the Jeep back towards home.
Andrew brushed his blonde hair back out of his eyes, remembering
everything that had happened when Will had come back. The sale of the Mustang,
and Will's starting work. Andrew had just become so caught up in school, class,
life that he hadn't stopped to think about the fact the only reason he was
able to go one with his dream was because Will had given up on his.
"You should have said something..." Andrew managed
after a moment.
Will sighed and squared his shoulders, "What could I say?"
He downed the remnants of the coffee, "And with everything else going
on, could I really tell you about it?"
"What else was going on?" Andrew asked cautiously.
Brody coughed, "Uhhh before you start up again, I just
want to point something out to my lawyer."
Andrew leaned around Will again, "What?"
Brody grimaced, "Dude you don't have a passport with you
when we land if they don't stick you on the first plane back you're going
to be camping in the terminal."
Andrew shook his head, "great I'm going to get deported."
Will relaxed a little at the lightness between them, Brody just
seemed to make light of any situation no matter how bad it seemed to be. That
simple brevity had a way of putting life into perspective.
"Well at least I can say I went to England... for an hour
or two." Andrew rubbed his tired eyes, "But you still haven't said
what happened to put all of us on this plane."
Will nodded, "ok, I'll keep going."
