Remotely Love by Lori Thorn
Schedule Social
“For some people, working from home can feel isolating. Let’s be real, though. Work is only one part of your life. Being intentional about your social schedule leads to a well-balanced you.”
While it didn’t entirely makesense to put on makeup for book club, Hazel liked to do it anyway. She knew the group would mostly come in clothes ranging from pajamas to athleisure, but what was wrong with pairing old stretched-out yoga pants with a dewy visage?
Her face was close to the mirror as she carefully applied eyeliner and a shimmering ‘faun brown’ shadow. She took a step back to admire her work. Not too shabby! She was sporting some comfortable black pants, a mustard-colored tank top, and a grey knit cardigan. Her makeup emphasized the rosiness of her complexion and the green of her eyes. She swept her hair up into a messy ponytail and checked the mirror one last time. Yes. This was the perfect arrangement for book club. She was comfortable and confident, ready to drink wine and discuss Belle’s Beast before the conversation inevitably turned to other topics.
Hazel pulledinto the long drive, gravel crunching beneath her car tires. They usually met at Amara’s home. Which made sense because she had the largest living room and plenty of space in her circular drive for parking. As a bonus, her husband, Omar, seemed to have a sixth sense about when the wine was depleted and would sweep in to freshen their glasses. Over time he had even learned everyone’s preferences for red or white. Omar For The Win.
She swiped through the chapters they would discuss today to review what she had highlighted as talking points while she climbed the steps to the porch. There was no need to knock as she entered the front door and made her way down the hall and into the living room. When she rounded the corner, she was greeted by cheers of “Hazel!” and smiling faces all seated around the coffee table.
Amara, Rosie, and Jessica were already sipping from their glasses. Rosie patted the space on the couch next to her, gesturing for Hazel to sit. As she settled in, Omar arrived with a glass of red and slipped it into her hand. “Thanks, Omar, you are truly a hero.” He winked and pulled finger guns before backing out of the room. Hazel joined the conversation while they waited for their final member to arrive. Lydia walked in a couple minutes later, regaled by cheers of her name. She had a rosé delivered to her, and the book analysis began.
Rosie immediately declared that Belle had “A Classic case of Stockholm Syndrome.” She was a captive who seemed to be falling for her captor. Rosie was interested to see if Belle would continue to have feelings for the Beast after being granted freedom in this rendition or not. Apparently, in real life, victims sometimes still feel love for their captors but are embarrassed about the emotion. Rosie is a Counselor and is full of this sort of knowledge.
Everyone agreed there was a strange disconnect between the story beginning to describe the Beast’s body in traditionally attractive terms and their sensibilities. Everyone except Jessica, who staunchly disagreed. “Y’all are being way too real with this, it’s a story, and his insane beast-muscles are hot… I bet he’s great at giving head.” Lydia choked on the wine she had drunk. Jessica continued, looking right at Lydia, “He’s ravenous. I’d sit on his face.” They all lost it and had to hold their glasses aloft to steady them as they shook with laughter.
When they had calmed enough to speak, Hazel said, “Sam would definitely call you a furry then. He accused me, and all I mentioned was that Belle was falling for him and had referenced his broad shoulders!”
“Wait, who is Sam?” Amara’s question was dripping with intrigue.
Before Hazel could answer, Rosie cut in, “You remember Sam! He’s the work husband.”
Hazel glared at Rosie. “Not true!”
“How is it not true?” She countered, “You talk to him daily, seek each other’s opinion, know about each other’s personal lives, and mention him with us all the time.”
Hazel sat in silence, thinking about how to disagree but her inability to immediately respond made everyone snicker. “Okay, okay, you might have a point.”
This divergence in topic marked the end of discussing Belle’s Beast, and segmented conversations began, Hazel, Lydia, and Rosie talking while Jessica and Amara carried on. They had been a group almost as long as Hazel had lived in Crestwood. Creeping up on around two years now, she realized. It did not seem real. At this point, they all knew each other so well that weaving in and out of discussion was effortless.
The fact their 2nd anniversary was upcoming struck Hazel so hard she announced it, “Do you realize we’ve been doing this for almost two years? I mean, I guess you all have been going for even longer, which is… it seems incredible.”
“Incredibly awesome!” Jessica said, raising her glass. They all toasted.
Amara sighed. “It is strange thinking of all that’s changed in two years. Aw, I’m so proud of us! Lydia, you got Teacher of the Year for the entire state. Jessica, your artwork was featured in Inked. Rosie opened her private practice. Hazel…” She swallowed and brought her wine glass into her lap. “When you joined, you had been through so much with the loss of your parents, and then….” She struggled to find the right words.
Rosie helped. “Then Sir Dickbag tripped and fell into his colleague's vagina the moment you were partially back on your feet, but look how strong you are.”
Amara recovered. “Exactly!”
Hazel smiled at the room. These people had been a huge part of what had saved her. After Alex had left her only a couple months after her parents had died, she didn’t have anything left in Chicago. She had looked for a smaller city that seemed slower, maybe even quaint, found Crestwood, and moved the very next week carrying everything she wanted to take in her car. It was the hardest thing she had ever done. When she arrived, her feeling of loneliness intensified. The therapist she had started talking to through FutureApp’s Employee Assistance Program practically begged her to find a social outlet. She had seen Amara make a post about the book club on the Nextdoor App and reluctantly inquired.
“You know, that was the worst time in my life. You all pulled me through it.” Hazel realized someone was holding her hand. “Looking back now, I’m so grateful. Alex….”
Rosie insisted, “Dickbag.” They all let out a scoff.
“Yes, him," Hazel continued with a smirk, “We don’t know what really happened with the colleague, but I’m honestly grateful he ended it. At the time, it was horror on horror, but I don’t want to be with someone who doesn’t love me, you know? And now I’ve found all you to love.” While she was speaking, they had all taken each other’s hands. They gave each other a squeeze.
Now things were heavy, which was not the typical book club vibe. There was an awkward silence for a moment until Jessica said in a protracted raunchy drawl, “Ravenousssss.”
Everyone laughed, and the night continued with conversation littered with the term ‘ravenous’ and the phrase ‘sit on his face.’
Rosie grabbed Hazel’s sleeve as they departed, “We still on for tomorrow? Nick won’t be there, but I’m still good for tea.”
Hazel nodded her agreement. “We’re going to Chai Chai, right? I’ll see you at 8!”
The wind was whippingthe ends of Hazel’s hair around as she cycled to Chai Chai. It was 7:45am, and the air was still cool and crisp. Knowing she was going to cycle there and not wanting her clothes to get stuck in the gears, she had thrown on jeans instead of her usual sweats. When she put them on, they made her feel dressed up. She grimaced, thinking she would need to somehow work that expectation into her How-To Work Remotely article. “After a while, your understanding of fashion may become misaligned with the general population.”
She opened the door to Chai Chai, setting the bells on the knob jingling, and let her eyes sweep across the room. Rosie was already here. She had seen her car parked on the street. No sign of her in the front of the teahouse, however, and not many other customers yet either. Only one table had been occupied so far. Hazel went down the short hallway into the semi-private rooms and found Rosie seated on a pouf. She looked up at the sound of Hazel pulling back the sparse beaded curtain and threw her hands in the air in welcome.
Rosie pushed the menu aside. “I have to get the Chai Chai Chai, I know I get it every time, but it’s too good. To be honest, nothing should be allowed to be this good.”
“It is stunningly delicious. We may need to report it to authorities.”
“Shhhhh!” Rosie waved her hands down, gesturing for quiet, “Mama didn’t raise no snitch.”
After a couple minutes of perusing the menu, Hazel said, “Ring the bell. I’m definitely getting the Sheng Pu-erh Mang Fei Shan.”
Rosie looked at her with disgust. “The fermented tea, again?”
“The house chai, again?”
Rosie rang the tiny bell on the table to summon a waiter. Hazel often wondered if the waitstaff found this method enchanting, annoying, or a combination of both. After putting in their order, the kind words of best friends catching up began to flow, only briefly interrupted by the delivery of their tray.
As their teas’ earthy and spicy smells wafted through the air, Hazel asked in a singsong rhythm, “How’s Nick?”
Rosie’s eyes brightened as the smile spread across her face, “He’s doing well! He’s packing right now. We’re taking a long weekend to visit his family.”
“Oh! Nice. Do you have plans, or just visiting?”
“No plans that I know of, although they love to surprise us. Last time we went, they had reserved us a table at this sensory-deprivation-tasting experience. It was limited seating, so since his whole family came, it was basically only us in the room. Then they turn off the lights, and you can’t see anything. It was funny. Steph, one of his sisters, kept getting freaked out about not being able to see what she ate.”
“Nick must get that from his family, then. He always seems to be doing sweet things for you. I bet he’s packing for both of you right now.”
Rosie snorted. “He is! He’ll do a better job than I’d do for myself too.” She shook her head in a show of disbelief.
“I love you two, I don’t know how you found the perfect man, but I’m glad because you deserve him.”
“Nobody is perfect. Don’t get me wrong, I love Nick like I can’t imagine loving anyone else. We still all have our imperfections. We compliment each other well, and we keep our romance alive, but Hazel,” her face became more serious, “He has no sense of urgency about cleaning messes. Sometimes I get frustrated and leave a wrapper where I see it just to test him, but I’m always the one to give in first.”
“Okay, I get that. Alex used to do the same. Maybe it’s a dude thing? It used to feel like he must not see the same way I do.”
“Ugh, don’t get me started. It 100% is a dude thing in our culture. There have been studies! Turns out they do see the mess, but because our culture doesn’t expect them to clean it (that's a woman’s job) or judge them harshly for having a mess, they are programmed to be able to put it out of their mind. It’s not urgent for them.” She paused, “It’s also probably unfair for me to test him this way, but that’s what he has to deal with from me! See? Both of us imperfect.”
“First off, gross. We gotta burn the patriarchy,” They clinked tea cups, “Second, you’ve been together for so long now and still do the whole romance alive thing. That’s special.”
“You’re right, but don’t romanticize the perfect person either. They don’t exist and never have.”
Rosie changed topics by asking about Hazel’s work, “How’s the Sam project?”
Hazel narrowed her eyes at the title, “CARE hasn’t started in earnest yet, but I think we will next week. I won’t be able to tell you details.”
Rosie swiftly amended, “I’ll only request interpersonal details. You know I don’t even understand what you actually do there, right?” She laughed.
This was true; most people didn’t totally get Hazel’s job. She tried to describe it but maddeningly, going into detail seemed to make it more confusing. She usually opted to keep it high level and let people assume what they would about Communications.
“I’ve got this other project too. It’s making a How-To about working from home. Apparently, we’ve seen a tick-up in attrition out of new hires but only in the remote space. Tamra thinks if we package it right, Training could be interested.”
“FINALLY!” Rosie’s proclamation was so loud the customers who had settled in the room across the hall turned to look at them. “This is the best news. You’ve been looking for something with crossover for an eternity!”
Hazel looked at her tea and tried to suppress a smile. It had taken her some time to dare to believe she might have finally found a project Training would be interested in. Still, as she dreamed about the direction she wanted to take, she was becoming more convinced. “We’ll see, but I do think there’s a chance it could work.”
She raised her eyes back to Rosie and was surprised to see that she was observing Hazel with a look of deep concentration. Hazel didn’t speak but cocked her head to the side in question and waited. Rosie seemed to steel herself and asked, “Could I tell you something I would tell a patient? Just for a minute?”
Hazel braced herself by grabbing the back of her neck and massaging. She grinned, “Ah, so you’re psychoanalyzing me?”
Rosie rolled her eyes but looked relieved at the humor in the reply, “Always, we really can’t turn it off as a profession, you know?” Then she added earnestly, “But I won’t without your consent.”
“Alright, do your worst.”
Rosie’s voice was gentle; Hazel had only heard it that way a handful of times, “Do you ever think you might tend to build roadblocks to fulfillment?”
Hazel couldn’t prevent the shock on her face. “Roadblocks to fulfillment?”
“Yeah. What you said about the Training project was… apprehensive regarding success.”
“I can’t control whether they’re interested or not. I’m being realistic.”
Rosie smiled kindly. “It sounds like you have some control. You’re the one with the assignment and can tackle it however you want. Which means you could tailor it to make it more interesting to them, right?”
“And I will, but it’s still out of my hands ultimately.” Hazel shot her questioning look again. “You obviously aren’t only thinking about the single sentence I just uttered. Out with it.”
Rosie exhaled a heavy breath. “Something I’ve noticed is that you express your desires; You desire a position in Training. You desire a committed romantic partner. Then when you have the opportunity to pursue those things, you tend to find roadblocks.”
Hazel opened her mouth to reply, but no sound came out. She felt hot, and the teacup she held in her hand was suddenly oppressive. She set it back on the tray. “You sure seem to have a great time at the expense of my “roadblocks” when I tell you how awful my dates have been.”
Rosie swallowed and let her gaze drop. Both women began to talk at once. Their eyes met when they realized they were both hastily apologizing. They laughed, and Rosie scooted next to Hazel so they could share an embrace. When she pulled back, Hazel had tears sliding down her cheeks. “Oh no!” She extended her hand and brushed a tear away, “I love you so much, Hazel. You’re my best friend. I do want to laugh with you about your horrible dates. Remember the one who brought the ferret?” They both smirked, then Rosie continued, “Exactly! I do want to laugh with you. I want you to be happy too.”
Hazel nodded her head. “I didn’t mean to accuse you of anything. I didn’t expect to be considering deep truths this morning.”
There was a pause, then Rosie added, “You have reason to see red flags easily. More than most… I get scared you might get in your own way by accident. And I could be wrong! I’m open to that. Nobody knows you like you!”