Authors: Sara Furlong-Burr
“When in this conversation did we travel to Vegas?”
“Sorry. I just love analogies. They make me sound like I know what I’m talking about. Did that help you at all whatsoever?”
“Actually… yeah. It sort of did.”
“Good, good. Listen, I have an appointment coming in about five minutes, but I can talk until then if you want.”
“Thank you, Luce, but I think you’ve given me something to think about now.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah.”
“By golly, I did something right today. I’ll talk to you later, then?”
“Always. Thanks again, Luce.”
I ended my call with Lucy, stumbling around my apartment aimlessly in the wake of our conversation. Lucy was the one to turn to for the dispensing of brutal wisdom and honesty. However, I couldn’t help but think that if she knew exactly what she had just advised me to do, she wouldn’t have dispensed it so readily. Just as I set my phone back down, it rang. It was Carrie again. She was most likely worried that I hadn’t returned her call. Carrie and I always had our weekly talks about life and whatever else came up in between. I’d often pictured what a great mother-in-law she would make and felt thankful that she may well be
my
mother-in-law someday.
“Hey, Carrie,” I answered, trying to mask the tsunami that was churning in the sea of emotions spinning through my head.
“Hi, sweetie,” Carrie answered in her usual pleasant tone.
“Sorry, I haven’t had a chance to call you back. I actually had to leave work early. Something came over me at lunch, and I haven’t felt well since.”
“Oh, honey. I’m sorry to hear that. Is everything all right? Do you need me to bring you something? I made some homemade vegetable soup and can bring some right over if you like.”
“Carrie, you live an hour away.”
“Your point is?”
“No… no. I’m feeling better, but thank you anyway. I appreciate the offer.”
“Well, tell that son of mine to take care of you.”
“He always does.”
“That’s good to hear. The reason I’m calling you is because MaKayla’s choir group is competing at the Met next week. I know it would mean a lot to her if you and her brother were able to come.”
“I will definitely let Chase know.”
“I know you will, doll. You’ve always been good at keeping his head on straight. You’re exactly what he needs.” My grip on the phone tightened with her last sentence; my stomach twisted into painful knots. “I’ll let you go now so you can get some rest. Give me a call when you feel better, and I’ll give you more details about the performance.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
“Bye. Take care of yourself.”
“I will. Goodbye, Carrie.”
I almost didn’t make it through the last part of our conversation before the tears began running down my cheeks. Before speaking with Carrie, I hadn’t realized how my sudden absence would affect her, Chase’s father, or his sister. They were the parents and sibling I’d lost ten years ago.
MaKayla had never liked any of Chase’s girlfriends until I came around. Much to Chase’s relief, she and I had bonded instantly because I wasn’t—as she put it—as “hoity-toity” as the others had been. She was the little sister I never had, often calling me to talk about her boy problems and anything else she didn’t care to share with Carrie.
I was just as much in love with Chase’s family as I was with him and nearly as much as I’d been with my own flesh and blood family.
A knock on my door a short time later startled me, forcing me to wonder whether Blake had changed his mind and followed me home, expecting an answer now. I debated whether or not to answer it before deciding that, if it were indeed Blake, he would probably already know that I was in here and wouldn’t leave until I answered it anyway. It was better to get this over with now than delay the inevitable. When I opened the door, to my surprise, there stood Chase, complete with a bouquet of daisies and a thermos most likely containing soup.
“Let me guess,” I said. “Carrie called you, and you came dashing over to save the day?”
“Something like that,” he laughed. “You never get sick. It’s like an eclipse, only happening once in a blue moon. I just had to witness it for myself.”
“Thanks.”
“It’s amazing, though.”
I raised my eyebrow. “Exactly what is so amazing about it?”
“Even deathly ill, you’re still the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.”
I blushed. I wasn’t sick, and I felt guilty for lying to Chase and Carrie. But what was I supposed to tell them?
I’m sorry, but some strange man made me an offer at lunch today that I don’t think I can refuse, meaning that I’m going to have to leave you guys forever with little explanation.
Right. That would go over well.
“You’re entirely too good for me,” I said with a half-hearted smile.
“There’s no such thing as being too good for you. Are you hungry?”
“A little,” I lied.
“Good. Get back in bed and I’ll get your soup ready.”
I smiled and nodded at Chase, quickly turning my back before a single tear could roll down my nose. My hand reached for the box of tissues on my coffee table. There was no way I could let Chase know that I was upset. If he even so much as suspected it, he would ask me what was wrong and I would—I was pretty sure—tell him the truth.
While he stumbled through my poor excuse for a kitchen, I changed into my sweat clothes to give the whole sickness excuse the full effect. He came into my bedroom a short time later with the soup in a bowl and the daisies displayed in one of the many vases I’d accumulated from the virtual greenhouse he’d purchased for me over the last two years.
“Thank you. You’re just so… great,” I uttered without looking him in the eyes.
“You’re pretty great yourself.” He kissed my forehead, setting the bowl on the nightstand. “I have to go back to the hospital for the start of my next shift. They’re doing a repair on a baby with a hole in her heart, and I’m going to sit in and observe. I’ll be available after midnight tonight if you need me.”
“I think I’ll survive.”
“You better. We have our big date at Angelo’s on Saturday night. Unless, of course, you plan on bailing on me.”
“Not a chance. I’ll be there with bells on.”
He smiled, kissing my forehead again. “I’ll give you a call tomorrow.”
“Good luck on your observation. Thanks for taking care of me.” I ran my finger along the petals of one of the daisies, still unable to look him in the eyes.
“Celaine, as long as I have breath in me, I’ll keep all harm from coming to you. I promise you that.”
“I love you.”
“And I love you.”
Then, as fast as he came, he was gone, and I was left alone again with my thoughts. Why did this have to happen now? Why not three years ago when I had nothing to lose by making the decision that had been placed upon me? It wasn’t fair. Why would I be given the gift of Chase and his family only to not be allowed to keep them in my life? To give me my soul mate, only to take him away, was cruel. This choice was beginning to look like more of a lesson in torture.
My eyes drifted in the direction of the bowl and vase of daisies. Carefully, I picked up the bowl, placing it on my lap. I took the spoon, collected some of the soup, and put it to my lips. It was good, but I wasn’t very hungry. The events of the day had washed away any semblance of an appetite I may have had.
It’d been nearly five hours since I’d been presented with the decision to change my life forever. And in those few, short hours, I’d made a choice that many would need five years to make. I took a deep breath as I sat on my bed holding a daisy I’d plucked from the vase. Pulling out each individual petal, I decided that no matter what the consequences, I would take the path destiny had cleared away for me.
Chapter Ten
The Affirmation
Sleep evaded me that night. Morning came, bringing with it the promise of a beautiful day, the likes of which would excite those who didn’t already have a dark cloud looming over their head. During the night, I repeatedly contemplated how I was going to quit my job. Normal procedure would be to give at least two weeks’ notice, but nothing about what was occurring in my life now was remotely normal. Around four in the morning, after I’d been tossing and turning for several hours, I finally decided that I would quit today, hopefully leaving before anyone had a chance to notice anything was amiss. People would talk. They would more than likely speculate about the emergent nature of my departure and where I was heading off to. If she were to find out, Veronica would have numerous questions which I would have to find a way to blow off. That would be no easy feat.
When I rolled out of bed, I wondered if Blake Cohen was watching me; I wondered if he knew what I was about to do; I wondered if he would see me leaving work early again today, toting a box of my belongings back to my apartment. Would he expect me to report early? Would I at least get the chance to say goodbye? The questions were again coming at me a mile a minute as I slipped my blouse over my head.
The warm summer air filled my lungs within seconds of stepping out of my building. My walk to the bank seemed to go in slow motion today with every step only appearing to take centimeters off my journey instead of feet. My expression, I was sure, had no life left in it. When I reached the bank, I stopped at the steps, where I took a deep breath before beginning the ascent into the building. Climbing up those steps for the last time felt like scaling Mt. Everest, and the door leading inside felt like dead weight on my dramatically weakened being. This had to be quick and discreet.
My heels clicked on the floor with ferocity as soon as I stepped foot inside. Every step seemed irritatingly conspicuous, resounding like rumbles of thunder each time one of my heels touched the marble floor. Bypassing my office, I headed straight to William, the bank manager’s office, near the back of the building. Veronica, Travis, and a few others were already gathered around the table in the break room. They looked up at me as I walked past them.
“Hey, Cel…Oh,” Veronica started calling to me, but was abruptly cut off by the realization that I would not be joining them for the usual Friday morning doughnuts. Behind me, I could hear the hurried
click-clack
of her heels as she rushed from her spot at the table to the break room door to peer around the corner at me. Without looking back to acknowledge her, I knocked on the door of William’s office.
William was a workaholic and, to put it bluntly, just plain didn’t have a life. He was a single man, never married and without any prospects in the works to change that. I knew he would already be typing away in his office.
“Come in,” he called.
My stomach turned in time with the brass knob between my fingers. Slowly, the door opened, and I stood standing in the doorway face-to-face with my soon-to-be former boss.
“Oh, Celaine,” he stated, clearly confused. “What’s going on?”
I was going to throw up; I could feel it. Nervously, I sat down on the red velvet chair in front of his desk in a vain attempt to counteract the dizziness and nausea I felt, tapping my fingers on one of its oak arms. William stared at me curiously.
“There’s no easy way to say what I’m about to say,” I began.
He looked up at me, a wave of concerned realization spreading over his face.
“I want to start out by saying that this has been a great… no, a wonderful company to have worked for. You have been a truly wonderful boss, and I highly respect you and al… most… of my co-workers. This company has opened many doors for me in the field of finance, and I can’t thank you enough for having given me the opportunity to be a part of this amazing team of truly brilliant people.” He knew what was coming. By the look on his face, it appeared as though he was contemplating what he would—or even could—say to change my mind. “With that said, today will be my last day. Something has suddenly come up in my life, and I’m afraid that I’ll have to leave town… indefinitely. It’s a wonderful opportunity, one that I’ve wanted for several years now. The catch is that, in order to be eligible for it, I have to leave this weekend. This means that I obviously can’t give you the two weeks’ notice like I know I should do and that you most definitely deserve, and I apologize for that.”
William looked at me for the longest time, nervously readjusting his glasses. I wondered if he was contemplating whether or not I was being serious or whether I was just trying to get a rise out of him. Finally, he spoke, “As sorry as I am to hear this, I trust your judgment. I’ve always trusted your judgment. It’s made you one of the better loan officers this institution has ever had. Your departure will be a great loss to us.” He scratched behind his ear and sighed, knowing that my leaving would put an even bigger burden on his already hyper-extended shoulders. “Although, I’m not thrilled with the fact that today is your last day and that you couldn’t have given me just a few more days notice, I understand that opportunities are precious and don’t present themselves at the most convenient times for everyone. I wish you well, Celaine. I know you will succeed in whatever endeavor you decide to undertake. We’ll miss you here. If you need any kind of letter of recommendation, let me know. I will be more than happy to provide you with one.”
I fought back the tears as professionally as I could. “Thank you for being so understanding with my situation,” I answered.
“Thank you for doing the work you did for us.” I nodded, stood up, and shook William’s hand the same way I had done at my interview just three short years ago.
As quietly as possible, I turned the knob of William’s door, quickly disappearing into the supply room to find a banker’s box for my belongings. It was in the supply room that the dam broke and the tears came. If this kept up, I would have permanent paths etched down my face from the course of travel my tears always seemed to take. The boxes were in the back of the room, and I stumbled over random piles of office supplies on my way to retrieve them. Dusty from months of inactivity, the supply room was the perfect metaphor for my life: disheveled and dark. Once in the back of the room, I bent down to pick up a box from the corner, climbing back over the chaos again. I stood by the door for a moment to regain my composure before presenting myself to my curious co-workers.