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“You want to invite the whole office to your 46th?” Carol gave him a curious smile. “Ken, sweetheart, shouldn’t you save that for a biggest number? Like your fiftieth?”
Mr Davidson shrugged. “Well they’re all like family to me, nutmeg. I can’t invite some of them and not the others.” He had really tried to whittle down the guest list, but he just couldn’t.
“You even want to invite Bill’s daughter?” Her husband’s heart was bigger than their house. She expected him to maybe have five or six friends over just for drinks, but she should’ve known better knowing him. She grinned, already aware any attempts to shorten the guest list would be tough. But she liked that about him.
“Oh, of course, I have to! I’ve heard so much about Alice from Bill. I have to meet her properly.” One of his arms slipped over Carol’s shoulder to ease her down into his lap to look over his list together.
“Well I suppose so,” one of her fingers drew circles on his shoulder. “Bill is such a nice man too. Oh you’re right. We must invite him.” She couldn’t disagree with him.
“Of course. He’s like the younger brother I never had,” he joked. Although perhaps there was a shred of truth to it.
———————————————————
Mr Davidson was bored that day, the office was slow and nothing much had been happening.
As he strolled around the main floor he could see employees clicking off games of solitaire or staring at blank spread sheets.
Some of them were milled around the water cooler and some of them were organising their stationary in a counterfeit of productivity.
So when things seemed to stir he hurried straight to the source for some hope of stimulating his half asleep brain.
Bill had made his way from the IT room to the water cooler with his phone out, and suddenly everyone was pulling out excuses to get back to work.
He stiffened his lip. That wasn’t very kind, especially when he knew they didn’t actually have work to do.
He wandered over curiously, not energetic enough to pick up his pace but still hoping he’d catch Bill before he finished filling up his drink bottle.
“Oh, good morning Mr Davidson,” he offered up a quiet smile, clearly a little shut down from everyone running off.
“Good morning Bill,” he took a sip at his coffee as the two of them stared at each other, both waiting for the other to speak first. “Good day?”
A small grin tugged at his lips and he took a sip of his drink so he could stand there for a little longer to refill it. “Yes, yes sir. Well-“ he stopped himself quickly before he could continue.
“What’s the news? Bill Nye the IT guy,” he drummed his free hand on the water dispenser.
Bill laughed, probably just to be polite. “Oh well, it’s nothing really.” His other hand clenched around his phone excitedly though.
“I’m in no rush, Bill,” he leant against the wall, taking another long sip of his coffee just to prove it.
He laughed, his smile showing through. “It’s just Alice-“
“Oh Alice!” He perked up. “Your girl! How is she? I haven’t seen her in so long now, how old is she now?”
“She’s eighteen,” he beamed.
“Oh all grown up huh?” He put his mug down on the window sill, rubbing his hands together. “They grow up so quickly! How is she?”
He held out his phone, head still dipped anxiously but excitedly. “She just text me, she got an eighty three on her English paper,” he explained proudly. “I know that must not be very important to-“
“Eighty three!” He interrupted. “Isn’t that incredible?”
“Yes! She always beats herself up if she doesn’t get something like ninety five and you know I just think school is too harsh these days,” he shook his head, unable to hold back what was clearly a very important topic to him. “She tries so hard!”
Mr Davidson nodded along, he didn’t know much about how school was these days so he was happy to let Bill tell him. “Exactly,” he agreed at the end of Bill’s ramble. “School should either get rid of markings, or start basing scores off effort. You know that’s what I’m looking for in an employee, effort. I don’t care how well they can write a paper, you don’t have to do that in real life, I just wanna see some effort!” He started, talking a bit more with his hands than his words. “Bill, what were the main themes of the Great Gatsby?”
“Uh, I don’t kno-“
“You’re fired,” he punctuated it with a hearty laugh, slapping him on the back. “See! That doesn’t happen. You know, tell Alice next time she worries about her grades that she’s always welcome to work here. She sounds like an ideal employee Bill, you raised her right.” He picked up his coffee cup again, nodding his head to gesture he was headed back to his office.
“Oh, thank you so-“ he could barely get through the sentence without laughing. “Thank you sir, that means a lot.”
———————————————————
“Isn’t that lovely,” Carol could imagine Ken doing that, she could almost see the story playing out in her head the way he told it. “I bet that meant a lot to him.”
“Oh yes well it’s true you know! He’s an excellent father. He’s just very passionate,” he pointed out.
Carol hummed in agreement. “And that’s never a bad thing. Better to be too invested than not invested at all if you ask me.” She tapped a manicured nail to his list though, “you want to invite Alice but not Sam? For Charlotte?”
“Oh, well yes. I’m not inviting him, for Charlotte. Exactly,” he grumbled at the man’s name. “She doesn’t admit it but Sam always ruins her fun, I can tell.”
“Oh, I see, dear,” she listened carefully to him. She had heard lots of bad things about Sam from Ken. “And we don’t want Charlotte to be sad. Then that wouldn’t make a very good party, would it?”
“Oh of course not, Charlotte is like a little sister to me.”
———————————————————
Mr Davidson had noticed right away when Charlotte came in sad that Monday morning.
She was always a little down he noticed, but today her shoulders were especially drooped and her eyes were trained on the floor as she hurried to the IT office, hands clasped tight by her chest.
“Charlotte?” He stuck just head out of his office to catch her as she passed.
She almost didn’t notice, jumping with a start. “Oh, yes Mr Davidson?” She brushed a stray curl behind her ear, barely meeting his eyes.
“How was your weekend?” He asked. “Get up to much with the husband?”
She blinked, clenching her jaw tight and giving a small twitch of her head like something bad had just forced its way to the front of her mind. “Oh!” She started off with a shake to her voice and a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Yes, sir. Just the usual. Not much from us. Sam just-oh, it’s nothing,” she rubbed a thumb under her eye despite the fact she wasn’t crying. “How about you?” She returned the question.
“Oh, not much,” he figured it would be better not to mention the hike he had taken with Carol that weekend when Charlotte was like this. “Just my own thing. And that’s never bad,” he told her. “You don’t have to be joined at the hip to have a perfect marriage,” he shook his head like he was just tossing any old advice over his shoulder. “I bet you keep lovely company,” he added with a comforting smile. “You strike me as the sort of person who can keep them self entertained on road trips without any sort of book or newspaper, but that’s just a thought,” he shrugged, trying not to seem too forced about his advice.
“Oh, that’s funny of you to say Mr Davidson, but very sweet I suppose,” she raised her interlocked hands up to her chin, giving a tiny smile.
He gestured with his coffee cup towards the hallway. “Now, off to your desk were you? I won’t keep you.”
She nodded frantically, hurrying to make up for time.
It was midday when the visitor arrived.
Sam stood there at reception, knocking his hands on the abandoned desk as he waited impatiently for Melissa to arrive, but the girl was out running errands.
“Do you have a warrant to be here?” Mr Davidson strode out of his office towards the desk in long strides, puffing his chest out.
“Yeah yeah real funny,” Sam hurried him. “I’m just waiting for Charlotte, where is she? Your assistant is missing,” he smacked his hand to the table like he expected there to be some sort of bell to call her. “Can you tell me?”
“What do you need her for?” He certainly seemed to be in a rush, he clearly wasn’t taking her out for lunch or coming with some sort of heartfelt apology.
“That’s not important, I just need to grab something off her. It’s not really any of your business, I’m a cop.” He gave a condescending tilt of his head.
“Oh really?” He looked him up and down. The badge, the uniform, the utility belt with the gun still in the holster. “I wouldn’t have guessed.”
“Uh, well I am!” He snapped, caught off guard. He crossed his arms, the leather of his jacket whining with his tight moment and he bit down on his lip like some sort of pouty child. “So I need you to tell me where my wife is.”
He was in a bitter mood, clearly. “She’s not in right now,” he answered. “Maybe you should just wait until you get home to her tonight to ask if it’s so important.”
He didn’t seem to think he would’ve encountered that road bump, he slid his shades down. “I need to talk to her now,” he repeated.
“Why? Is someone dying? You’re the officer here, you’re a big strong man,” he patted him on the back. “I’m sure you can figure it out on your own!” He gave an enthusiastic swing of his fist. “And if you’re still struggling then you can have a lovely sit down with the wife tonight, can’t you? I’m sure you know she loves some company, don’t you?”
He paused, unable to produce an answer. “Uh.”
“You know what, you seem like such a good husband, it’s blatantly obvious, I can just read the energy in here, it’s totally changed,” he started snappily, trying to get him out of the office, he was not wanted her.
“What?”
“And since you clearly have some time off to come ask questions, why don’t you do something more productive with that and go buy her flowers? To thank her in advance for helping you with your questions,” he put a hand on his shoulder to spin him around and guide him back towards the door. “Thank you for your time Officer, so sorry your wife wasn’t around, maybe next time? Alright Sam, have a good day, goodbye.”
He wiped his hands clean of the deed as he paced back to his office. What a bother that man was.
“Oh, Mr Davidson?” Charlotte peered our from the hallway, surprised to see him out of his office. “Is something going on up here? Someone told me that-“
“Oh!” He cut her short, resting an arm around her shoulder to guide her back in the direction of her office. “There’s nothing happening, just a small bother I had to take care of. But it’s alright, nothing I want you worrying about.”
———————————————————
“No Sam,” Carol confirmed. “Got it, take him off the guest list!” She made a cross with her arms. But that still didn’t solve the problem, because he wasn’t on there in the first place. “And what about Ted then?” Carol frowned. “You know he’s not always available. He might not be able to make it.”
“Oh but I would love for him to come if he could!” Ken explained enthusiastically. He didn’t always talk with Ted about personal matters but he loved it when they did.
“Really?” She said curiously.
“Of course! He’s the head of his tdepartment, but he’s very good, and he’s so much fun to talk with, you’d love him!”
“But he doesn’t talk to you very often does he?”
“Oh well that’s no problem. We get I along great! He’s kind of like the cousin you only see at family gatherings but you still get along really well with. Is that too obscure?”
———————————————————
“Hey Ted,” Mr Davidson caught the accountant by surprise as he came up behind him, he was too engulfed in his phone, which was definitely not what he should’ve been doing.
“Shit!” He exclaimed, dropping his phone down into his lap and spinning around in his chair. “Hey, sir!”
“What’re you up to?” He asked, leaning on his bench.
“Well I swear I was working on the quarterly report up until five minutes ago,” he confessed, showing Mr Davidson the very thorough document. “Sorry, I just had a complication, but it’s almost done.” He picked up his phone to tuck it away properly. “No need to worry. It’ll be on your desk after lunch,” he promised diligently.
“A complication?” He inquired. “Need a hand at all?”
“Oh, it’s personal stuff. Don’t worry.”
Ted never liked to share things with him. But that never stopped Mr Davidson, quite honestly. “Well is everything okay?”
Ted nodded but then shrugged. “There’s just this girl-“
“A girl!” He exclaimed, leaning in. “Oh tell me about her, are you in love?”
Ted winced, raising a brow. “Yeah, sure,” he replied uncertainly. Perhaps love wasn’t the right word. “I am just trying to have a civil conversation with her and I really can’t tell if she’s into me or not, like is she down?”
Mr Davidson sighed, setting his mug down and holding out a hand. “Let me see, Ted.”
“What? No.”
“Come on Ted. I am, as they say, great with the ladies. I’ll see what your problem is.” He tapped his hand so Ted relented and handed it over, leaning on the back of his chair to explain it all as Mr Davidson skimmed through the text messages. Honestly, they were a little unsavoury.
“Ted. This girl clearly does not like you,” he had to inform him solemnly. “She isn’t trying at all. I think if anything she is trying to shut you down.”
“What? No way. Why would she put a smiley face in her message then?” He scrolled back up like he had memories where it had happened, pointing.
“You had to double text her,” he countered. “Also, that’s just being polite Ted.” He ran through the messages again very briefly, trying not to pry. “You don’t pick up woman by telling her she has a ‘nice bod’ and texting back five minutes later to ask why she isn’t replying.” This was almost disappointing. “Is this a joke?”
“Well, she didn’t tell me she was going away and I gave her a compliment, I mean,” he twisted his office chair side to side in confusion. “I wasn’t being aggressive, it’s totally fine is she needs to put her phone down we were just in the middle of a conversation.”
“Well listen, hounding a woman will get you no where. You just have to be patient,” he assured him, scrolling down to the top of the conversation. “Look,” he began, “tell me a bit about her.”
“Well she’s a Starbucks barista, she gave me a really good chai iced tea with extra ice the other day when I didn’t even ask for it, and it was really hot outside so it wasn’t an accident,” he finally elaborated, and Mr Davidson held back a smile, knowing he was getting in on the good stuff and that Ted trusted him.
“Say, ‘good morning, I hope you made it to work safely today. I was thinking of grabbing dinner on Sunday night if you were free, no pressure to come but I’ll pay if you’re interested, just let me know!’ Get it? No one likes to feel like they don’t have a choice.” He kept the phone in his hands.
“Oh, well now I have to pay,” he frowned.
“If she agrees I’ll pay for you.” He didn’t return his phone right away. “There’s an art to talking to women, Ted. You can’t just say whatever’s going on in your head.”
“What? Melissa does that all the time how come she can?” He spun around in his chair to glare over at the secretary’s desk.
“Well you don’t see her with a girl either do you, Ted?” He bumped his shoulder scoldingly. “You also have to take the blame yourself. Only insecure people and people too full of themselves blame the world around them when something goes wrong, Ted. Women don’t like that,” he began.
“What?”
“It’s not hard to get a girl, Ted. You just have to be a good person,” he was about to pass his phone back when it buzzed. “Oh look, she says ‘what sort of food?’ See? She’s interested.”
“Well, what sort of food?” He leant in to watch his boss reply.
“Hmm, ‘whatever we’re in the mood for, it’s no problem for me If you want to pick. Just let me know and I’ll keep you updated’, there.” He handed it back. “Complete.”
Ted shook his head, reading over the messages again and again. “But I thought she didn’t like me?”
“Oh she doesn’t,” he confirmed. “But who doesn’t love an offer of free food?” He shrugged. No one. “But now you have her attention, you have to use that date to be an actual gentleman, Ted.”
He rubbed his brow, his tongue running over his teeth as he stared, puzzled, at his phone. “Mr Davidson, I appreciate that an all, but how do you say this politely? I just wanted a quick one.”
As he figured. “And that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t respect her,” he said, hoping Ted already knew that. “Look. If she says yes, Ted, the date is on me.”
“Yeah but what if I mess up?” Now he actually seemed worried. At least he cared.
Mr Davidson laughed. “I’m going to help you, Ted. Even if we have to break out the ear pieces so I can feed you the right answers, just like in the cartoons,” he joked.
“What if she gets there just thinking I’m an idiot though?” He was panicked, actually. Maybe that was for the best.
Mr Davidson shook his head. “You aren’t an idiot, Ted. You’re very smart, just be yourself,” it was typical advice, but maybe he needed to hear it. “Plus, I’m sure she’ll really like the version of you who isn’t hounding her for her attention over texts,” he added, a well meaning tease.
Ted gave something between a snort and a sigh as he snatched his phone back to tuck into his pocket, crossing his arms and rolling his eyes. Much more himself. “Oh get off my back. I don’t always text like that.”
“You just have to-“
“Be patient, yes,” he filled in the blanks. “I get it Mr Davidson, thank you very much. I’ll be getting back to my report now if you don’t mind,” he picked up his mouse to make his point.
“Alright Ted, got it. Keep up the hard work,” he nodded, waving a hand as he backed off. But he still had a huge grin on his face, because Ted had actually listened to his advice.
———————————————————
“Well it sounds like you have fun with Ted,” she confirmed, even if that wasn’t one of the sweeter stories.
“No, cadence. Don’t even think abnout telling me to take Melissa off the list.” He shook his head the second her nail hovered over her name.
“Oh I wasn’t thinking about it,” she rubbed his back, thinking over it. “She isn’t quite the party type is she though? She organises all the work conferences but I never tend to see her.”
“Oh she’d come if I told her it was mandatory though,” he joked, knowing she’d probably need a bit of convincing to join in on a party, let alone one for an older crowd. Maybe she would be good company for Alice. “But we have to! I’ve practically adopted that girl!”
“Well I wasn’t aware of that,” she giggled. “Why didn’t I get to sign those papers?” She teased. “Of course we have to invite her then. I’d love to chat with her.”
———————————————————
Mr Davidson knew that Melissa wasn’t quite the type to frown. When she was sad or upset she would just not smile. That was all.
That’s why it was so alarming to see her with her palms pressed to her eyes, desperately trying not to cry in the middle of a busy work day as she bit down on her bottom lip.
“Melissa? What’s wrong?” He asked, approaching her desk quietly as to not alert the whole office to her state.
“Mmph,” she grunted, pressing her hands harder for a second before slipping them back out from under her glasses, shaking her head. “Hi, mister,” she shook her head, not even able to say his name without her throat closing up, so she smiled instead, which was odd because this definitely didn’t look like a smiling situation.
“Is everything alright?” He leant in to let her know he was quite aware she wasn’t okay, and perhaps that she didn’t want to make a big deal out of it.
“Yeah yeah,” she shook her head. “Don’t worry, ugh, sorry sir.” She tried to look back to her computer to signal that the conversation was over but he stayed at her desk.
“Melissa?” He tilted his head. “You just look to me like you were crying,” he told her so that she knew she wasn’t quite subtle about it. He nudged the tissue box on her desk towards her.
“Oh, sorry Mr Davidson,” she took a tissue to wipe her eyes with, placing her glasses delicately down on the table. “I have some bad news.”
“Uh oh,” he waited patiently for her to catch her breath.
“Um, I messed up a call with a client,” she admitted. “And he wasn’t very happy. He didn’t have a good signal and he kept cutting out and I missed something very important,” she confessed. “I didn’t mean to, but he got very mad and-“
“Which client was it?” He asked instead, giving her another second to try and calm herself but she had returned to pressing her hands to her eyes.
“I’m really sorry,”
“Don’t apologise, who was it?” He asked again, feeling a small pit of anger opening up in his stomach.
She turned away, her hands fiddling with the closest pen she could pick up. “It was the Greensville client, the fancy one who orders everything for his company. The CEO.”
Oh yes. That was a big client. He cleared his throat to buy him time to think of something to say, not quite able to quell the anger he was feeling.
“I’m really sorry,” she told him again, apparently he wasn’t doing a good job at keeping it off his face. “It was an accident.”
“What did he say?”
“Mm,” she whimpered, pulling out her planner and squinting at the words. “He’s changing his order, he’s picking up-“
“No, no,” he reached over the table to close it again. “To you,” he said, passing her glasses back to her.
“Oh,” she ran her fingers through her hair until they formed a curtain over her eyes as they sunk back down to the ground. She grumbled. “Well. I think he’s going to tell you himself. He said he’d be talking to you about it, because I messed up so badly,” she explained briefly, lifting her legs up off the floor to cross them in her chair like she was curling in on herself. “The connection was so bad, I don’t know if it was our phones or his but I just missed out on one little thing,” she was rambling now, and he was just listening. “And I was going to tell him his connection was bad but I thought it was getting better and I didn’t want to bother him!”
Sure, Melissa was fairly sensitive, but it takes a lot more than a ‘can I speak to your manager’ to get her to cry. He needed to collect himself before he could speak, there was no doubt something very horrible had been said to her, and she must have been having a bad day already to cry and to be blaming it on herself. This made Mr Davidson very, very angry. “He sounds like he was very cruel to you,” he finally spoke up to assure her he was made at the client, not the girl.
She glanced up, her ramble drying up, her jaw slightly agape. She gave a small nod, playing with the tips of her hair. “I understand that it’s frustrating though, to have things go wrong. If the company screws up who else are you supposed to get the right information from?”
“Don’t defend him, Melissa. Everyone could deal to have a bit more patience in life especially this man it sounds like.” He steeled himself for a moment. “You are allowed to make mistakes, there’s never any reason to yell over an honest mistake, Melissa.”
She nodded just to get him off her back it seemed. “I know, I just, ugh.”
“Now you sit here for just a moment okay? If the phone rings tell Ted he has to answer it. I’ll be right back.”
It took all of five minutes though, because he did not hesitate at all because he knew his morals and he knew them well. After one phone call, he stepped back out of his office to make his way confidently over to Melissa’s desk.
She blinked her wet eyes at him, not quite focusing since she had taken them off to wipe her eyes again.
“It’s all handled, Melissa,” he told her.
“What is?” She fretted, scrambling to get her glasses back on to do her end of the handling.
“You can delete the client from the systems,” he told her, and she let out a low whine.
She moved quickly and apologetically. “He left? I’m so sorry, I didn’t think he was going to be so upset.”
He clicked his tongue. “No, I cut ties with him. We no longer provide for his company.”
She almost fell out of her seat when he jumped up. “But Mr Davidson!” She spluttered. “He was- he was a big client! You didn’t have to do that!”
He simply shrugged it off, already ready to walk away from her desk. “I don’t need business from people like that. It isn’t about the money for me, he shouldn’t be able to yell at you just because he’s giving you money. That’s not the service he’s paying us for,” he stated clearly, hoping that would sink in. “I only want positive relationships with my clients, we didn’t need him anyways, Melissa.”
She was silent, her jaw slightly dropped, speechless. So she just apologised again.
“Oh enough with that,” he waved a hand dismissively. “If anything, I should be thanking you Melissa. You’ve just helped me clear out the trash.”
———————————————————
“Okay, okay. It’s alright, I won’t stop you inviting any of them,” Carol giggled, settling down in his lap as her eyes cast another glance over the invitation list.
“No, not Paul,” Ken started before she could even think of suggesting it.
“Oh yes, darling, yes,” she shut her eyes, leaning into his chest, knowing he was already preparing his next story. “We can invite Paul. And he can bring Emma too. Of course,” she wouldn’t argue. “Why don’t you tell me a bit about him?”
She felt his heart skip a beat with excitement. “Oh, of course! He’s such a sweet boy, he’s almost a son to me.”
———————————————————
Mr Davidson bumped into Paul in the corridor between IT and the break room, nervously pacing back and forth. “Good morning Paul, ready for today?” He asked.
Paul had nodded when he asked, smiling before scurrying back to his office.
Mr Davidson didn’t think that was strange, sometimes Paul was a bit of a pacer. Not that he had ever said it but he always thought of them as a bit of a duo, always pacing the halls throughout the day, he enjoyed crossing paths with him on his walk even if Paul always did hurry back to his office afterwards.
He smiled at him when he saw Paul again, bumping his fists together by the water cooler an hour later.
He gave his usual funny smile, racing back to his office afterwards.
But then at 11, he was still pacing. He was hovering around the break room, chewing on the pen in his hands.
“Paul,” he greeted as per usual. “Not a sitting down day, ey?” He raised his coffee mug, noticing Paul hadn’t taken his usual 11am coffee break.
Paul nodded. “Sorry, sir. I’m still working, I just can’t uh, sit still,” he gestured to his pen. In his other hand was a set of cue cards.
Mr Davidson connected the dots in his head. “Oh, some last minute work on your speech huh?” He came to stand besides him. “Let me take a look.”
“Oh no they’re done, of course they’re done. I wouldn’t not do my speech,” he stammered, shuffling through his cards to make sure they were in the right order. “See?” He presented them in his fingers.
Mr Davidson couldn’t read them at the speed Paul was flicking through them so he just nodded. “Ohhh,” he cooed. “Stage fright, Paul?”
“Ah well that word is a bit- high school theatre, but uh, I guess so. I never really liked speeches. But neither does Charlotte and Bill did it last time so it was a coin flip but uh. I didn’t want Charlotte stressing out so I did it. I’ve been getting a lot better with public speaking!”
He smirked, a little proud his employees were getting along like that. “Oh I can tell. Good on you for volunteering Paul. I’m sure you’ll do fine. Want me to read your notes?”
Paul nodded frantically. Approval from the boss was the best sort of approval obviously.
He skimmed them, wanting to leave some surprises for the afternoon’s meeting. “I don’t see the problem here Paul. This is all you need to say. Just read us these and you’ve got everything,” he grinned, handing them back.
Paul nodded. “Thank you sir, I’m just worried I’ll panic, is all,” he changed the topic. “I mean it’s good to know I have it all down but what does it matter if I can’t say it?” He almost laughed at himself.
Mr Davidson just rolled his eyes. “Paul, do you think I’m marking you on eye contact or voice or something? I’m telling you, schools are traumatising kids these days. If you can’t get through the speech we can always just send it out in a memo afterwards. It’s just me and some of the accountants you know. Nothing to panic over you know us all.”
Paul gave another nervous laugh, chewing on his pen again. “Thank you, Mr Davidson. I promise I’m not that panicked, I won’t pass out or anything like that.”
He let out a bellow. “Paul, if you passed out during a speech I’d never let you do one again!” He slapped him on the back. “For your own good!”
He laughed, just a little less enthusiastically. “Thank you sir, I think.”
He cracked his knuckles. “Look. If you think you can’t do it then I’ll give the speech for you!” He offered, holding out a hand for Paul’s cards, but he shook his head.
“No sir, it’s okay. Emma always tells me about how psychology says the best way to overcome a fear is to face it. Especially when it’s just public speaking. Don’t let me back out please,” he was giggly, probably a little bit from fear.
“Does passing out count as backing out? Just for legal reasons,” he elbowed Paul.
Paul laughed genuinely this time. It was nice for a change because it came out less stilted and airy, more from his chest. “Yes Mr Davidson, but I won’t do that. I’m gonna do this speech, for my own benefit, haha.”
“Well look at you,” he grinned, giving his shoulder a firm pat. “I’m proud of you already.”
———————————————————
“Well that was a lovely story, Ken,” she told him, nodding along. She knew her husband was a sweetheart, of course, but she hadn’t heard many of these stories before. How lovely of him. “So we’ll invite them,” she assured him.
“Thank you, Carol. I’m sure they all probably have better things to do but I couldn’t not invite them!” He paused, his eyes lighting up for a second. “Oh!” He scratched out another name into the paper with his fountain pen as he remembered. “One more?” He asked.
Carol glanced at the growing list with a warm smile. Clearly they all meant a lot to him. And as much as she loved his stories she couldn’t go down the whole list, not when they had to start making tonight’s dinner. “Oh Ken. I can’t uninvite any of them,” she confessed, on the same page as him as per usual.
She watched him as another name popped into his head and he had to find a new corner to write down all those names with the excitement and enthusiasm of a boy on Christmas Day. “Ken, honey?”
“Yes, my dove?”
“Let’s just rent a venue.”