Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 59265 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 296(@200wpm)___ 237(@250wpm)___ 198(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59265 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 296(@200wpm)___ 237(@250wpm)___ 198(@300wpm)
And when I had to finally break the news of my pregnancy to my boss, I kept up the ruse. I couldn’t claim to be married. My ringless finger would give me right away. But I pretended I was in a very happy relationship, that the two of us were so excited to start our family—even if we were doing things a little out of order.
Did it feel good to lie? No. But it felt just as awful to be talked about and judged by coworkers. And nothing would get their tongues wagging more than knowing I was dumped when my birth control failed and I ended up pregnant. I also worried that my boss might hear the term ‘single mom’ and hear ‘liability,’ since I didn’t have a spouse to take care of the kid on days off from school or when they were sick, over the summer—the list went on and on.
So long as I didn’t ‘get married,’ I didn’t have to actually put anything on paper and risk getting caught.
Fibbing was for protection. Because I’d heard coworkers and bosses in the company call women a ‘liability’ because we might get pregnant at any time.
“Remember Melanie? That kid of hers was sick more than he was well. She lost us three clients.”
It wasn’t true, of course. We lost the clients because of restructuring that the clients saw as instability. But they created a villain out of Melanie. Then our boss went out of his way to write her up for any small infraction until he had enough reasons (that had nothing to do with her child) to fire her.
I couldn’t let that be my fate. Melanie had a high-earning partner to fall back on. I only had myself. I needed stability for my daughter.
So I would continue to lie.
And I wasn’t going to let myself feel bad about it.
It wasn’t just about protecting my job, either. It was about protecting the version of myself I’d spent years building in that office: Reliable. Ambitious. Available.
The kind of woman who answered emails at ten at night and never complained when a client wanted something done yesterday. The kind who came back from vacation with her inbox already cleared because she knew no one else would do it right. I had worked very hard to become the person they never had to worry about.
And now I had a baby.
A baby who would inevitably get sick. Who would have doctor’s appointments and daycare closures and bad nights and fevers and a thousand other perfectly normal things that could make me less convenient.
I hated that I was already calculating how inconvenient motherhood might make me seem.
But I’d seen what happened to women who didn’t. And without a partner’s income to fall back on, I couldn’t take any chances with my job.
“Dave Campo refuses to discuss his portfolio with anyone but you,” my boss said, a hint of a whine in his voice. That made me think he’d tried himself to talk to Dave, who let us control over eight million dollars of his assets.
I adored Dave.
He was this bubbly, pleasant, surprisingly down-to-earth multi-millionaire who started a blue-collar company that went huge over the next twenty years. He was also surprisingly good at reading people. He knew from a two-minute conversation that he didn’t trust my boss. And he despised “the Chrises” in the office. All three of them.
“Is there a problem with his portfolio?”
My boss grumbled. “He was an early investor in AI, if you recall.” Of course, I recalled. I’d been the one to handle that. “And now he says he’s done a lot of research into how bad AI is for the environment, workforce, and the minds of people and wants out.” His words were dripping with distaste. Despite the fact that, according to what I was seeing, Dave was absolutely right to hop out of AI before the bubble burst.
“And he won’t let you handle that?”
“He will not. He threatened to leave us completely if he can’t deal with you.”
I sucked in a deep breath, debating my options. On the one hand, I didn’t want my boss to take this as me coming off maternity leave early. On the other, I could see him somehow using it against me if Dave left.
“You realize I’m on maternity leave for several more weeks.”
That got a sigh.
“I’m aware.” His voice was clipped.
“Okay. I’m willing to do a video call with Dave. From home. Then handle whatever changes we want to make. From home. Before going back to full maternity leave.”
There was a long enough pause that had me thinking he thought this might be his way back in. “Fine. I will inform Dave.”
He ended the call.
No ‘thank-you’ or anything.
“Looks like Mommy needs to get herself presentable today,” I told Adelaide, who’d been lying on my legs, looking up at me with her big eyes, making little owl sounds, but thankfully not crying the whole call. “Let’s hope something I own fits over these giant boobs of mine.” I picked up Adelaide and pressed her to my shoulder. “I mean, I’m not complaining. They’re nice. But I know I’m going to be saying goodbye to them sooner or later. And that’s just a cruel twist of fate, don’t you think?”