Page 17 of Because of You
And thank god for it, because I don’t think I could have lasted in that office one more day without a break. I still haven’t recovered from the emotional turmoil of Maya’s adoption hearing. The calming effect of my revelation that I don’t want to do the thing that I have been doing for my entire career quickly gave way to panic. Because, holy fucking shit, I don’t want to do the thing anymore that I have been doing for my entire career.
For some lawyers, a change in their practice isn’t that big of a deal. People switch all the time, and it’s not like I have been practicing for decades. But for me, it is the equivalent of a bomb detonating in the middle of my life. First of all, because I’m not great with change. Much like I avoid conflict to keep the status quo, I also stay in situations far longer than I should, mainly because I find the unknown really fucking scary. I like my life to be orderly and predictable. I don’t like not knowing what is going to happen.
I mean, I dated my college boyfriend for literally years longer than I should have because I was afraid of the chaos of a breakup and what life would look like on the other side. Turns out what was on the other side was freedom and happiness, but who could have known?
Everyone. Literally everyone knew. And they told me. Often.
And more than the change factor, it is the fact that we are a year into planning and a week into executing our new firm. A private client firm where we will be practicing various types of private client law. Sure, we won’t actually open for business for a few more months, but the business cards and firm letterheads are being printed. I am a signatory on a bank account and client trust accounts. I have clients from my old firm following me to my new one and counting on me to actually be in practice when I promised them I would be. And I have my three best friends in the world forging on ahead, secure in the belief that I will be right by their side while we do the thing. So, how can I tell them that I don’t think I want to do the thing anymore? And how do I build a family law practice almost six years into a career doing something completely different? I could lose my best friends and my career in one fell swoop, and for what? Because I feel emotional when I get to finalize an adoption?
Okay, I know that it’s more than that. I know deep in my bones the second I let my mind focus on it that family law is where my heart is. But is that enough to upend my entire life and the lives of my friends?
I groan, burying my face in the blanket I have wrapped around my body. I am so sick of myself. I have been caught up in a cyclone of anxiety and self-pity for too fucking long. I can’t sort it all out in my head, and even the very best to-do or pro-con list in the world isn’t going to figure this out for me.
Without warning, my mind wanders to the day of Maya’s hearing when I broke down at Ben’s house, all because hemade eggs and handled some of my morning logistics. I cringe thinking back on it. Ben has seen me sick, scared, hungover, and during my extremely unfortunate braces and bad skin phase. But this feels different. What kind of grown ass adult cries because someone makes them eggs and fills a water bottle? But then I remember how he didn’t seem put off by it in the least. He didn’t even ask me what was wrong; he seemed to already know and understand.
Lean on me. I see you, Hal, he said. And thinking about that almost makes me tear up again. I have never felt as secure and taken care of as I did in that moment.
I consider whether I could talk to him about all of this. I kind of alluded to it with him already, and I know he won’t tell Julie or anyone else if I don’t want him to. But still. The idea of letting this all out without having an idea of how to fix it myself makes me feel vaguely sick.
Maybe when we’re at the lake next week. Even though it scares me shitless, the idea of talking to Ben about my career crisis at the lake house makes it seem less daunting.
The Parkers’ lake house is my most sacred place. The place where I am happiest and feel the most like myself. Ben, Julie, and I grew up splashing in the lake, running wild through the backyard and the adjacent woods, and whispering secrets under the stars by the fire pit late at night. At the lake house, it feels like there is nothing and no one else in the world, and summer will last forever. It’s where I feel free. If there is anywhere I would feel comfortable giving my deepest secrets to Ben, it’s there. I just have to get through the next week first.
My phone beeps, and I jump on it, pathetically grateful for the interruption of my pity spiral.
Molly
It’s T-1 week until the gala and there is SHOPPING TO DO.
The gala is the annual fundraising gala for Kids Play—the foundation Jeremy started when he left the league after his injury. It started off as a way to raise money to provide hockey equipment for kids who wanted to play but couldn’t afford it. Jeremy was one of those kids when he was younger, and he feels strongly about cost not being a barrier to entry for the sport he loved so much.
Over the years since he left the NHL, the foundation has grown and transformed into a powerhouse that funds equipment for kids in all different sports. The foundation also sponsors scholarships for teams and leagues at all levels of sport, and the foundation board is a veritable who’s who of the professional sports world.
The annual gala is held in Pittsburgh every summer. It raises tens of millions of dollars for the foundation, and it is capital F Fancy. It’s the one night of the year when we go all out. New dresses are a must, and Molly is the best shopping wing-woman.
Julie
Yes, please. Everything in my closet is boring as shit.
Me
Samesies. I’m thinking I want a color this year.
Molly
GIRL YES.
Emma
I was thinking of wearing that black dress I wore to my firm’s Christmas party last year.
Molly
Em, I love you madly, but that dress makes you look like you’re going to a fancy funeral. Just, no.
Emma
But I hate shopping. Just find me something in my own closet. Or one of yours.
