Page 62 of That First Flight

“Mom, stop checking your phone every two seconds,” she scolds me. “You’re going to get the job. Just relax.”

I snuggle back into the pillow with my phone in hand, swiping away the notification that reads thirty texts from the girls’ group chat. They are likely asking for an update the way they have every day since the interview. I’m so damn thankful for this new found friendship in these girls and their support.

“I’m just nervous, babe,” I admit to her. “I want it more than I’ve wanted anything before.”

“I know. But you’re going to get it. You totally deserve it.”

“You think so?”

“I know so.” She nods with conviction. “I’m old enough to know things now. You seem a lot happier here.”

There’s a heavy pit in my stomach wondering what Mackenzie means by that statement. I just stare at her, hoping she keeps going without me having to ask.

“I know how Grandma and Grandpa treated you. It really bothered me and it hurt me a lot. I just kept it all inside because I didn’t want to fight with anyone. But I hated seeing you hurt, Mom.”

I run the back of my finger along my cheek to catch the tear that escaped. “I didn’t want you to know I was hurting.”

“I could tell.”

“I wish you would have said something, Mackenzie. We would have left sooner.”

“I wanted to, a few times.” She shakes her head. “I was kinda hoping it would get better. But it didn’t.”

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it a hundred more times, I am the luckiest mom in the world to have such a smart and intuitive daughter. Moments like these make me feel like I did something right in life.

For once.

“I’m sorry for having an attitude when we left that day. I was tired and grumpy and hungry,” Mackenzie says with sincerity.

“So you weren’t mad about leaving your school and friends?”

“Nope.” She grins with the shake of her head. “I miss them. But I don’t miss that life.”

“God, I love you so much, babe.” I pull her in for a hug. “Thank you for supporting my decision and taking this journey with me and for being so wise beyond your years that we can talk about things like this.”

“Always, Mom. I love you too. To the stars, the moon and Jupiter and back.”

We both laugh at that as we hold each other tighter, while rain pounds on the windows.

Suddenly, my phone vibrates aggressively on the edge of the bed. I leap up and notice it’s not a number I have saved, but it is a New York area code.

“Hello?”

“Hello. Is this Macey?”

I suck in a sharp breath when I hear the female voice. “Yes.”

“I’m so sorry to call you on a Saturday afternoon. This was the first chance all week that I’ve been able to take a minute to call you. I regret to inform you that our position for a new line cook has been filled.”

My stomach sinks and my heart breaks into tiny pieces with every word.

“But…” She pauses and I wait intently despite the overwhelming disappointment. “I wanted to offer you a position as sous-chef.”

My eyes widen in complete shock. “You want to offer me a sous-chef position?”

Just like that, the same heart that cracked pieces itself back together and beats faster than ever before. They filled the entry-level position, but they want to offer me a level up position.

As a fucking sous-chef.

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