Tamara, I miss you (Part 1)

I met Tamara eight years ago when she joined our logistics team as an accountant/auditor. I was a senior vice president of logistics for a Fortune 500 company and we had just acquired a company and were in the process of integrating their operations into our portfolio. Tamara joined our team to “cut the fat” from the operation we were integrating; no one in the company was better than her at doing so. Now about Tamara; she was nothing out of the world when we first met her (my team of 5 managers and I). Petite, book worm; the epitome of what one would think of an accountant. She was very much business and never hesitated to call out her male peers when necessary.

About a month after she moved in to our office building, I caught her crying in the parking lot. I asked her what was wrong and initially she hesitated, saying it was nothing, that it was personal and I did not need to worry about her. She was tense and upset when she said this to me so I apologized and went about my way, heading to my office a bit pissed off at her attitude towards me.

A while later, she knocked on my door and I nearly told her to “F” off but decided to be civil and welcomed her into my office. She walked in and closed the door behind her. Immediately she apologized for her demeanor and attitude toward me. She then proceeded to tell me why she was crying, the issues she was having at home with her husband, not feeling valued and completely overwhelmed raising 2 kids without much help from him.

At first I thought to myself, “Why fucking me!?!?” But as she told me her story I felt bad for her, it seemed she was dealing with a loser husband. I listened to her, told her it was not right for her to bear the brunt of raising her kids pretty much on her own and told her I was there if she ever needed to vent. Tamara smiled and stood up, she thanked me for listening and added she had no one to talk to and was very appreciative of the time I gave her (nearly an hour!). I stood up and told her once again I was there for her. Needing to get to work, I opened the door and she hurried toward me and gave me a warm hug. Like I said, Tamara was really nothing special, she was cute, shoulder length curly blonde hair, always wore skirts and blouses, never wore pants and the running joke in the office was that she was an off-duty nun (because of the way she dressed).

Fast forward to December 2017 (about 5 months after Tamara joined our team). The company Christmas party is the event of the year for us, great food, always on the company dime. That year, I reserved a great spot at one of San Diego’s (California) best hotels in the heart of the Gas Lamp Quarter. Thanks to our boss (and pretty much a blank check) rooms, food, and beverage were on the company; no expenses were spared for our employees.

During the party we (team) got to meet Tamara’s husband (Bernard). Bernard was, let’s say an extremely religious man. Bernard did not drink and made it very clear he did not approve of our party having alcohol served. I still remember my British manager coming to me in a bit of a drunken rage asking, “Who the bloody fuck is that upitty twat!?”. Tamara was mortified, she was doing everything she could to apologize for Bernards behavior since he made it a point to try and convince everyone at the party drinking is bad for the soul (really, he used those words!!). Needless to say it was an early night for Tamara and Bernard as they left for their room at about 9:30 PM.

So as the party ended a couple of hours after Tamara left, I made my way (along with Nikki) to our hotel room. Nikki stayed in the room while I headed down to the bar to hang out with the boys for a bit. I noticed that Tamara was at the lobby coffee shop, by herself. I approached her and asked her, “where is your absolutely charming husband?”. She turned and gave me a quizzical look smiling and apologizing for his behavior. She added that she had to leave the room and offered to get him coffee just to be away from him for at least 10 minutes (I laughed hard at this). I was a bit buzzed but once again, to me she was nothing special, barely 5’-1”, maybe 120 pounds but she looked so tiny, vulnerable next to 6’-1” me (her husband was not much taller than she was, the asshole).

I caught myself complimenting her, telling her her husband was lucky to have such a cute and lovely wife; I noticed her face blushing and immediately thinking, “I fucked up” however, she smiled and said that was very sweet of me and how lucky my wife Nikki was. I immediately corrected her and for whatever reason made it a point to let her know Nikki and I were not married. Once she got her coffee, I helped her carry the cups. Once we were about 4 doors from her room she said, “This is far enough”, she took her coffee from me and placed it on the ground, she then walked to me and gave me hug, holding on for quite a bit, not knowing what to do, I gave her a kiss on the top of her head, she smiled and once again thanked me for being there for her whenever she was having a bad day. END OF PART ONE

By Anonymous

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