Toby just got back from Dr. Miller's when he was shocked to see Michael waiting by the door of his apartment. He was holding a bucket of KFC in one hand and a six pack of beer in the other, and he looked like he'd been waiting awhile.
"Michael…why are you here? Is this for me? I mean is this for us?" he asked, confused.
"Pretty quick on your feet aren't you Toby? Are you going to make me stand here for another hour or are you going to invite me in?" Michael rolled his eyes.
"Oh, I'm sorry, here let me grab that," he took the beer out of Michael's hands then approached his apartment door. After nervously fumbling with the keys- anytime Michael stared at him it made him nervous- he opened the door and let in his very unexpected guest.
"Nice," Michael mumbled, and Toby couldn't be sure if he was being serious or sarcastic. What exactly was he doing here? Michael followed him to the kitchen where he heated the food up in the microwave.
"How many bedrooms is this?" Michael asked. "One?"
"Two," Toby admitted, knowing that his home felt small but it seemed right for him and Sasha.
"Closets don't count, Toby."
"I do have two bedrooms, Michael. One for me and one for my daughter. They are upstairs."
"What do you plan to do now? Do you plan to downsize? I know someone who could put you in a great one bedroom. Surely you don't need two now. I could get you out of here in a month. I .."
"Michael," Toby raised his hand. "I don't need a one bedroom. I like it here. And Sasha will be back to visit. During the summer and stuff."
"Oh yeah." It never occurred to Michael about vacations, but it seemed to him that Toby was deluding himself if he thought that those vacations would work out. They might happen the first year, but pretty soon there would be camps and friends and sleepovers and stuff. Yeah, Toby was pretty much toast. "Well, you never know."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Oh wait, did you hear the timer go off? I think the food's ready. Don't wait for the food to cool off. Where do you keep your plates?"
Toby grabbed the plates and silverware, but he still wanted to know what Michael meant by his last comment. Did he know something that Toby didn't? No, that was impossible, he was just being paranoid. But still he planted a seed in his mind that he just couldn't shake.
Michael did most of the talking over the dinner, mainly doing impressions of people of the office with Toby telling him that wasn't appropriate. He found himself almost laughing a few times; it was hard not to laugh at Michael, but he would not be a very good HR rep if he condoned Michael's behavior, even if it was off the clock. Even he had to admit he did a killer Kevin impression, but again, that just was not funny. It really wasn't.
"Why do you do that, Michael?" Toby asked as he took a swig of beer.
"Do what?"
"Nothing."
"No you said something, finish it. I demand you finish it." Michael stared at him.
"I was wondering why you make fun of other people? It might hurt their feelings. But never mind. It doesn't matter."
"You think that's what I'm doing, making fun of people? I'm having fun with people! There is a difference. Fun is when people laugh. That's the difference between you and I Toby. When I 'make fun of people' people laugh, they get me, the respect me. When you make fun of people they don't laugh, they don't respect you."
"I don't make fun of people Michael and you're the main one who treats me with disrespect."
"Look at you! Your wife didn't respect you! Your friends don't respect you or they would be here with you knowing your wife took your daughter with her. And your coworkers don't respect you or they would be throwing you a birthday party on the party committee. How about that Toby, where's your party?" Michael scoffed.
"Um, you sorta won't let them throw one for me."
"That's right. Because I'm the leader of the group and I'm representing what the group wishes. And the group wishes for you not to have a birthday."
Toby looked down at his feet, then looked around at his surroundings. This all sounded so familiar. He was used to taking it at work, but this was his home, his safety zone. What did Michael want from him anyways? It used to be that Michael went out of his way to ignore him but now he was showing up at his bar and his home and he was still disrespecting him.
"Listen Michael this is my home and I appreciate the dinner and the drinks and you dropping by but I would rather you not talk to me that way."
"Or what?" Michael challenged.
"Or I'm going to ask you to leave." Toby looked at him so seriously even Michael knew that he meant it. Eye contact was not Toby's strong suit.
Michael looked around and saw how bare the place was, save for a few pictures of Sasha and some books. He wondered if Toby even had cable. Why did he do it? Why was he so hateful towards him?
After a minute Michael changed the subject. "You know Toby I have a good lawyer."
"What are you planning to sue me?" Toby asked, confused.
That made Michael laugh. "No. For Sasha. Maybe he could help you, you know…"
"Thanks Michael I appreciate it. I really do. But I had a good lawyer. A few of them. That's why I sold the house. That's why I have…this…. I don't really do lawyers anymore."
"Yeah I don 't blame you. You got screwed. Screwed big time. Hey it's Monday night, isn't there a game on or something?"
Toby smiled. He didn't really follow the games, and he was pretty sure Michael didn't either, but he sure appreciated the company. And was starting to suspect that Michael really did too.