Page 23 of The Ground Beneath Our Feet
I leaned back in my chair in my new office and inhaled the unfamiliar scents of hot computers, lemon furniture polish, and ideas. The fan rustled the papers already piled in my inbox. The bare walls yearned for my framed degrees. The previous occupant had left mismatched pens and sticky notes in a desk drawer for me to organize. I needed to learn the office computer programs. And then I could work.
I was beyond happy. I had things to neaten. Projects to do. People to take care of. Plans to nurture.
And I was doing what I went to law school to do: be a public housing advocate. Find real homes for people where they would be safe, secure, and comfortable, even if they didn’t have a lot of money. I hoped we’d give them the kind of home I never had growing up.
The Santa Barbara office didn’t look like a law firm on television. Housed in an old adobe with a red tile roof and white stucco walls, it was professional and accommodating, but funky.
I took a deep breath. Amelia had said she’d come in my office in a few minutes to go over my first assignments. But I had a moment to orient myself.
Last night the moment I’d heard Mikey coming up the stairs, I shut the door. He made my heart pound, he was so close.
I needed to stop reacting to him like that. I needed to get control.
Once he passed and went into his room, as quietly as I could, I got out a King Size Twix bar from my stash and opened it silently, tearing it down the edge. I shoved it in my mouth, the chocolate and the caramel and the cookie tasting so much better than the dinner I’d had. My roommate, that beast of a man, cooked me a lighter dinner than the food I’d grown up with. It had ended up easy to record the dinner in my app. Even though the dinner was healthy and tasty, it didn’t satisfy me the way the Twix did. I needed something sweet to round out the day. I carefully folded up the wrapper and hid it under a Kleenex in the wastebasket.
It didn’t count for my app. That was medicine. I didn’t care that I was lying to myself. It was comfort, and I needed it after that day I’d had.
Then I’d scurried back into bed.
I’d been so stressed to start working, but for once I didn’t remember my usual nightmares. Instead, I’d been enveloped in a warmth that I’d never felt before. A grounding. And I’d slept hard and woke up excited to start my new job.
Now back in my office, thinking about food as I looked around and leaned back in my chair made me wonder about my mom. How was she doing without me?
I used this spare moment to call her.
“Mom?”
“Mija. How is your new home?” Her voice sounded just the same, and a prickle of homesickness poked my gut.
“It’s good.” I paused. “I miss you.”
“Of course I miss you, too. Brooks got a promotion. He’s going to make fifty cents more an hour.”
“That’s awesome!”
“And Sebastian changed the motion sensor light outside. It had burned out.”
These ordinary comments meant the world to me. My brothers were taking care of my mom. She’d be okay.
They kind of made me sad, too. She didn’t need me. Just then, Amelia walked in, so I hurriedly hung up.
Amelia, my glamorous boss with some curves on her, had dark tresses and violet-colored eyes like Elizabeth Taylor. She dressed like a Bond girl, in a pencil skirt and high heels. My black slacks from J.C. Penney’s, and gray sweater that was pilling, were totally inadequate. But that’s all that fit.
When I’d arrived this morning, she’d introduced me to Neveah, the receptionist, and my secretary, Hilda, as well as the other attorneys in the office.
I was part of the staffing shifts that were happening because an extraordinarily handsome partner named Jake Slausen, was leaving the office to take a new job. Tall, with dark hair, sapphire blue eyes, and a lean, athletic body, I was pretty sure that everyone who looked at him had a crush on him.
Now, sitting across the desk from me like a client, Amelia told me all about the work I’d be doing for our client.
“CELT Development specializes in converting old hotels into low-income housing,” she said. “They need advice for all the permits and entitlements, as well as representation at city council meetings.”
“I love that,” I said. I could totally do this.
“You’re helping to give homes to people.” She smiled. “This is a great client, and I think you’re going to do really well. Just start with researching their business and the redevelopment laws so that you can be up to speed when we meet with them later this week.”
After she left, Hilda gave me an orientation to the computer programs and billing software, and then I got started on my first project.
A few hours later, I slipped outside to grab a cup of coffee. I’d seen a place two blocks away that looked interesting, Southwinds Coffee. A couple of kids worked behind the counter. The one named Laura handed me my skinny latte.
