Page 1 of Can We Skip to the Good Part?
Prologue
It was one of those moments when Ella Baker felt like she was watching a movie but wasn’t at all. She stared at the talking heads on the Zoom screen, shocked at what she seemed to be hearing. She paused, waiting for the actual words. The ones that would make it definitive.
“So, with all of that being said, it’s with a heavy heart that I tell you that your position at Cornerstone Ideas has been eliminated.”
Eliminated. That meant fired. Canned. Ella blinked, playing back the words from Jim, the HR guy who often left the microwave door open in the break room. But she still didn’t quite believe their meaning. Maybe because her Friday morning working from home had played out like any other until an unexpected meeting had shown up on her calendar for late morning. She’d been happily working, flipping between projects for multiple clients while sipping her second cup of mildly sweetened coffee. This new development was an unthinkable record scratch.
“Are you sure?” she asked. The question was legitimate. Her graphic designs had been a selling point for the company in somany of their advertising pitches. Ella’s work spoke for itself. At least, she thought it did. The problem? She’d never been the loudest designer in the room or the one who demanded her name be all over everything. Perhaps the higher-ups were unaware of her connection to their most successful campaigns.
Jim nodded. “We are sure. Yes.”
“Hang on.” Ella swallowed and found her voice. “I thought you said in your announcement last week that you’d concluded the layoffs. I don’t understand.” She was positive the email they’d blasted to the company had reassured the remaining employees that they were safe. She’d done a little chair dance, grateful to have survived but not exactly shocked.
Jim from HR watched her patiently from his side of the Zoom screen. Her manager, Marlene, shifted uncomfortably inside her separate square. Ella squinted inside her own. They were the dysfunctional Brady Bunch.
“That’s true. We should have met with you last week. It was an oversight on our part,” Marlene said.
They’d forgotten about her. Like bland wallpaper that faded into the background. Like Kevin fromHome Alone. They’d passed right over her existence. “Seriously? You forgot to lay me off?”
Marlene had the decency to wince. “Things were a little chaotic last week, and you were lost in the shuffle.”
“Right. Well, I don’t suppose pointing out all I’ve done for the team will matter much.” Her heart thudded. Ella had honestly wondered if this meeting might have been about a promotion, making her feel naive and stupid. What was she supposed to do now exactly? She had rent for this month and next, but then that was it. Maybe her landlord would forget she existed, too.
“We value all of your contributions,” Jim glanced down at the form in front of him, “Ella.”
“Jim, did you just forget my name?”
“No. Of course not,” Jim said, scratching the back of his head.
“I think you totally did.” Ella balked. “I’ve worked down the hall from you for five years. I brought you pumpkin bread in a Christmas tree tin.”
“It was excellent,” he said. But his voice was too quiet to be believed.
“You’re not a good liar.”
Marlene shifted again, but said nothing. This was the woman, the head of the art department, who Ella had bailed out time and time again. She’d stayed up until all hours to make Marlene’s ridiculous last-minute deadlines. It all seemed so fruitless now. Ella was a nameless, unemployed oversight with forgettable pumpkin bread.
“We want you to know that your work for the company was very much appreciated, and, unfortunately, we have to part ways,” Jim said. This was a script if she’d ever heard one.
“Thank you, I guess? I’m not sure what to say.” She sat back in her desk chair with a thud. “This feels like a speeding truck hit me when I wasn’t looking. You didn’t even buy me dinner, Marlene.” She couldn’t believe she’d said that last part out loud.
“It’s entirely normal to feel that way,” Jim said, employing his kind eyes, which she imagined they taught in HR school. His tie was so boring. Blue with thick gray stripes. Jim needed better ties, back to HR school for him. “And we’ll leave you to peruse the exit package we’ve put together for you. Take a look and let us know if you have any questions. I’m always here. Oh!” Jim’s beady eyes lit up. Perhaps he liked these kinds of meetings more than he let on. “And go ahead and save the file to your personal devices because after confirmed receipt, we’ll be shutting off your email and access to Teams. Really, all of your access. To everything.”
“And we’ll need your badge,” Marlene said, leaning in toward the camera.
“You got it,Marlene and Jim,” Ella said, emphasizing the names that she hadn’t forgotten. “I will save everything before I’m banished from the kingdom for all time.” Then, she remembered her morning. “How are you gonna make that deadline on the Harrison Glee account?”
“Oh.” Marlene’s eyebrows shot to the sky. “Were you working on that one?”
“I’m the project leader.”
Marlene frowned, perhaps just now understanding her misstep. Cue the panic. It was, after all, their biggest and most demanding account.
“I’m sure you’ll figure it out,” Ella said in a sympathetic voice similar to Jim’s. She wasn’t usually this snarky, but the blind side had her scrambling for decorum. After a few more scripted platitudes from Jim, Ella offered a half-hearted wave and exited the Zoom like a mouse lost in a maze. She had no idea what to do next because she hadn’t expected any of this. She felt like an absolute loser, and now she was that plus unemployed. She’d call her parents, but they were in the middle of the Caribbean on their third international vacation of the year.
Her phone buzzed on the table next to her. She half expected it to be Marlene calling to say this had all been a hysterical practical joke and to please keep working on the Harrison Glee project. Instead, she saw it was Rachel, and thank God, because it made her feel instantly better, a testament to their bond.
“They forgot to fire me,” Ella said instead of hello.
