yes, Mother give it to me

**********

Over the ensuing weeks, she strengthened her friendship with Henry, and it was not long before co-workers assumed they had initiated a romance. Mona could not understand where this rumor had started or why. Had they paid any attention at all to Henry's needs and the way he always seemed nervous, even when smiling, it would have been clear he was struggling with severe social anxiety and not in a place where he could date someone. He could barely commit to their friendship: he always seemed off, inauthentic, like something was never quite right about the way he walked, the way he carried himself. It was clear he enjoyed Mona's company but always waited for her to initiate conversation. And even then, she tended to dominate the conversation. He seemed content, grateful even, to let her dazzle him with sharp wit and scathing commentary about the office drama. But those marvelous brown eyes of his... Perhaps they had seen too much. She would search within them for answers, but they were just blank, like a forest after a great fire.

They spent almost three months eating lunch together, goofing off, and learning just about everything about one another. As she was learning how much he hated pickles because of a bad sandwich, or how much he preferred Star Wars to Star Trek (blasphemy if she ever saw it!), she began to suspect he was probably gay. She wanted to be a good friend to him, but she also wanted to wrap her legs around his head. This false dichotomy kept her in a state of near-constant confusion. Even Henry began to notice how often she forgot to forward a memo, how often she seemed cross and distracted with little things that never used to bother her.

"Hey, Mona?" he asked one morning, shaking the snow off of his winter cap.

"What's up, Boo?" He didn't mind the pet name as much as he used to.

"What, um... What's-Is something wrong?"

She tried to be chill, but she knew what he was talking about.

"I'm cool," she insisted, hanging her jacket up in the coat room.