Another dull day in the cubicle farm was nearly completed when Jean discovered things were about to get worse. Sitting at her desk, she stopped typing long enough to pull an errant strand of her night black hair back away from her face. Her brown eyes scanned the monitor, looking for any mistakes as she pressed her lips into a line in concentration. She was nearly done with the report when her boss, Rich Dammland, strode to her desk. He was a good looking man but seemed to carry an air of smugness around him. He put his arms on the cubicle wall behind the monitor and waited for her to acknowledge him. She mentally groaned. He didn't like to bother talking to the people on his team preferring to “lead via a central command” as he put it. Mostly, this meant he stayed in his office and micromanaged by email. He only inflicted his presence on them if he wanted something particularly difficult or annoying done.

Using a quick keyboard shortcut, she saved the document and looked at him. “Yes, Mr. Dammland?” she asked in a neutral tone. “Please, Jean, we've talked about this,” he replied smoothly in an unctuous tone. “Call me 'Rich.' There's no need to be so formal.” He picked at a spot on his sleeve and removed an imaginary piece of lint from his suit jacket.

“Of course. What can I do for you?” she asked again, not varying her tone. She wasn't going to fall for his attempts to befriend her. He had a nasty habit of using his supposed friendship with others to get them to do things for him that weren't always inline with their own desires. She kept her face frozen as he let out an aggrieved sigh. “Weeeeeeeeeeell,” he began, drawing the word out. This wasn't going to be good. “I need you to work Friday,” he finally said, looking expectedly at her. Her eyes narrowed. She had requested that Friday off a month in advance as her mother would be visiting. Not that she was looking very forward to seeing her. She tended to be very vocal about many issues in Jean's life, but that wasn't the point. “Mr. Dammland,” she began.

“Rich,” he corrected. She waived it off.

“Rich, then. I requested Friday off over-,”

“I know, I know,” he interrupted, a placating tone in his voice. “But Melanie and I have that business trip that got sprung on us last minute.” Jean got a headache from keeping her eyes from rolling. Chances were, the only “business” those two would be getting to on that trip would be in the hotel room. He continued. “With you gone, that leaves only one gal here.” He leaned in, a Cheshire cat grin plastered to his face. “We can't let one person take a whole day's workload, can we?” he asked.

“Well, of course not. But-”

“Excellent!” he exalted, clapping his hands together. He stepped back and began moving away. “I have to run but I'll give you a call on Friday to see how you're doing.” He turned and walked away.

“But, Mr. Dammland!” she yelled, standing. He just called back, “Rich!” and non-nonchalantly waved. She sat down heavily and massaged her temples. She hated getting backed into a corner. She wish she could have stood her ground better but was worried about putting her job at risk. She sighed and went back to her work, trying to distract herself a little while longer. She was not looking forward to talking to her mother about this later.

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“So, I'm just supposed to wait at the airport like some vagrant?” her mother's voice demanded through the car's speakers. Jean sighed as she pulled into the next lane, willing the cars around her to get moving. Traffic was normally bad at this time and her mother wasn't helping things.

“No, mom. Just take a cab to my place and-,” she was cut off by her mother's outraged voice.

“You're fine with a stranger picking up your dear old mother? Honey, I am sixty-eight years old! I can't be seen being picked up by random men.” She huffed, indignant.

“No, mom,” she replied. “I don't think anyone is going to care about you being picked up by a cab. Millions of people do it every day.” Or use a ride sharing app, she thought but didn't vocalize it. That was a whole other rant she didn't need.

“Don't you use that tone with me, young lady,” her mother snapped. “I know you're full grown, but that doesn't mean you can show me disrespect.”

“Mom, it's not disrespect. You're just making this a bigger issue than it is,” she said, trying to soothe. “Just take the cab to my house and get the key from the flower pot. I'll be home an hour after you get there and we'll get dinner together. Okay?” She heard her mother sigh over the speakers.

“Fine, fine. I just don't get why you changed plans so late. I mean,” the voice took on a hurt tone. “Is it so bad to spend some time with your old mother? The one who gave birth to you?”

“No, mom.”

“I only gave you life, made sure you got an education, even put you in that nice university,”

“Mom.”

“I sacrificed a lot to make sure you became an upstanding member of society,”

“Mom!”

“And all I ask in return is to spend some time with you. It's not like you have a man in your life or-,”

“MOM!” she yelled, anger tinging her voice. She took a deep breath. Arguing wasn't going to help her situation. In a calmer voice, she tried again. “I told you, mom. They asked me to come in on Friday. We have a project going and,” she swallowed. She hated having to lie like this. “they said they needed me on it to make sure it goes smoothly. They seem like they've come to rely on me.”

“Of course they have,” her mother said, sounding happy. “You're a very hard worker. Haven't I always said that.”

“Yes, mom.”

“And it looks like it's paying off!” She could practically see her mother's beaming face over the connection.

“It sure does,” she glumly stated. “Look, mom, I gotta get going, and I know how much you hate it when I talk to you while I'm driving.” She ducked into another lane as a space opened up.

“You're darn right I do! Okay, Jeannie girl. I have to pack up some more so I'll let you go. See you Friday, sweetie!”

“Bye, mom!” and the connection was severed. Glumly, she looked on as the traffic barely moved. She hoped she'd get home sometime before Friday.