Page 50 of Taking Chances

“Hi, babes,” Natalie greets me as I enter the office. Her curly hair shapes her gorgeous face, her lips wide with a smile.

“Hi, Nats.” I blow her an air kiss.

“Have a lot of work today?”

“A couple of meetings with the volunteers.” She follows me to my desk. “Everyone’s really excited for the new space.”

“Of course, they are. The new space is awesome.” Natalie’s been coordinating our move, probably the most out of everyone. Kiara, our boss, is thinking of retiring by the end of the year, and she’s preparing Natalie to become our boss. I couldn’t think of a better person in charge of the BYC.

Looking around our open space office, I’m hit with a sense of nostalgia. We will each have a separate office in the new building, which is practical, but this—this had a charm of its own. I guess we will have to spend more time in the common areas, which will look beautiful according to the project plans.

These people here, I realize, are more of a family than my real family. Here is where I feel most like myself, where I feel like a valuable and loved member, not a child in need of a scolding.

They are also passionate about helping others, not only here in the BYC but in their free time as well. Matt and Natalie are into sustainable living, Danielle from accounting and her husband volunteer at the homeless shelter nearby, a few other colleagues volunteer at the dog shelter, etc. Something my sister and father would find ridiculous, but it’s much more awe-inspiring than being skinny, rich, or well dressed.

My first meeting is with Sandra, a retired teacher, who teaches our crocheting class. Surprisingly, it’s one of our most popular classes.

“How are you, dear?” she says with a kind smile. She’s always dressed in bright colors, usually sporting her own designs, and today isn’t any different. Her orange top is half-sweater, half-poncho, but she makes it work, her grayish curls falling over her red-rimmed glasses. “You look like you’re not eating much.”

“I do my best, Sandra.” My own mouth widens into a big smile. She always wants to feed me, and it does wonders for my self-esteem.

“How can I help you today?”

“Well, I actually have some great news.” I proceed to tell her all about the new space we’ll be moving into.

“Will the space be appropriate for crocheting? The chairs we have now are killing me.” The classes currently take place in a middle school classroom.

“Yes, we will have comfortable couches and sofas you can use.”

“Oh, that sounds lovely.”

I love being the bearer of good news. And lately, that’s pretty much all I’ve been doing at the BYC.

“There might be some changes in the class schedule, but we’ll let you know in advance.”

I’m just finishing up with the second meeting with Jenna, our dance instructor, when my phone pings with a text.

Lennox:

We should meet up to talk. I can pick you up and take you to my place. Just let me know when works for you.

His text is cold and detached, but still, my body tingles with anticipation.

Me:

I could do tonight!!

I don’t want to seem over-eager, but I guess that ship has sailed.

Lennox:

Pick you up at 7:30?

Me:

Works for me.

Atta girl.That sounds less neurotic.

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