“I have been texting,” I said.
“How’s the game, sugar?” my dad asked.
“Sugar?” I swallowed my laughter.
“Oh, just go with it.” My mom waved her hand as if my dad wasn’t seated beside her.
I launched into the full story, giving them every bit of information William had given me. My mom and dad gasped and cheered at all the right moments. Talking to them was like talking to the small part of me that loved myself.
My dad wandered off mid-call for a smoke after saying, “Good night, sugar.”
“He lasted three months this time,” my mom said proudly. “Next time, I think we’ll hit six.”
Every year, my dad swore he would give up smoking, and every year he did—for a few months before taking it back up again with the most elaborate excuses.
“What was his excuse this time?”
She looked around, making sure he wasn’t within earshot. “He said he remembers I thought he was sexy when he smoked. But it was the eighties.” She shrugged. “Anyway, how’s work?”
I suddenly regretted this call.
“Next!” I shouted.
“How’s Patrick?” She glanced sideways while asking, ensuring I could read nothing from her eyes.
“He hasn’t contacted me yet. Mom, please tell me what this is about. It’s been weeks, and I’m on edge.”
She frowned, and I thought perhaps I’d get something out of her. Instead, she yelled, “Next!”
Well played, Mom. Well played.
Round 30
Iwoke up knowing one thing for certain after years of doubting every decision: Today was the day I would resign.
Staring at my laptop, I navigated to my incomplete resignation letter. The thought of being unemployed left a bitter taste in my mouth, but the idea of staying strangled me.
Nothing at work mattered to me anymore. I didn’t care about my projects or my deadlines. I was worth more than this. More than the way they treated me. It was a strange realization, and it was refreshing knowing one thing for certain in these uncertain times.
I looked down at my clothes. Somewhere along the line, I had subconsciously begunun-beigingmyself. Today I was sporting a pair of purple stockings with a black dress and a pair of black sneakers. Everyone who walked by stopped and stared a second longer than usual. Everyone except Mr. Markham, who, to my absolute pleasure, still avoided me.
Because of my allegations. Because of William.
My heart fluttered. At this point, I was sure all this heart fluttering was a medical condition that needed to be cured with a pill or, I don’t know, surgically removing my heart—whatever worked.
“Check this out,” I whispered to Shaun.
Wheeling himself to my desk, he read over my shoulder and then blew out a long breath. “When are you going to do it?”
“Right now. I considered waiting a week until after the wedding, but I don’t want to.”
“Whoa.” He scratched his head. “I’m going to start my job hunt after the wedding. Have you found something?”
“Nope.”
“So,the Roseis going to be unemployed for a while?” His eyebrows were perched up high. “You’re braver than I am, Rose Marie Jones.”
Brave?Pfft.I was terrified.