Page 91 of Resilient Rhythms
The Monday after Allegra and Derek’s wedding, I kiss my husband goodbye after our morning coffee, and sit down at thekitchen island, my laptop open, notebook turned to a clear page, pen uncapped, to search for job opportunities.
Mav is heading into the studio to meet with the band for a morning session. He wants to get a jump on the day so he can meet me for a late lunch before our appointment at the OBGYN. Today is the day we learn the sex of our baby.
I scan an email from Aiden, grinning at the two opportunities at his firm he thinks I’d be a great fit for. I tap out a reply, letting him know I’m interested and would love the opportunity to interview. Waiting for my bar exam results has been trying but not the agony I anticipated.
I envisioned myself not being able to get through my day-to-day life, too anxious for the news. I pictured myself constantly worrying about my future and what it would look like until the results dropped into my inbox.
But that hasn’t been the case. While I’ve certainly put out feelers and set up several informational interviews, I’ve been content to go about life without stress over my career.
I’ve relished finding a rhythm with Maverick. It’s been seamless, part muscle memory, part maturity, and part truly wanting to be together and connect. I’ve reveled in the first few months of pregnancy and marveled at impending motherhood. I’ve enjoyed time with my friends, decorating my home, and learning to savor daily routines.
I’m drafting another email when a new message appears in the top right-hand corner of my laptop. My mouth dries and my fingers freeze on the keyboard as I reread the subject line.
Massachusetts July Bar Exam Results
“It’s here,” I whisper to myself, navigating to my mail widget and opening it.
Right there, in that email, are my results.
“No matter what happens, it’s fine. Worst-case scenario, you retake the exam. No big deal,” I pep talk myself.
Then, I double click on the email, close my eyes, and take a deep breath.
When I open my eyes, I note the wordpassand nearly fall off my barstool.
I scan the email for information, relief flowing through my limbs, that I passed the exam with a 276 UBE score.
“Oh my God!” I shout to the empty kitchen, punching a fist into the air. “I did it. I fucking did it.”
I glance down at my little baby swell. “We did it,” I murmur.
Blinking back tears of joy, I pick up my phone. Knowing that Mav is in the studio and won’t have his phone on him, I send him a quick voice note.
“Mav, it’s me. I know you’re recording and won’t see this until afterwards, but I want you to be the first person I tell. I passed the bar! I passed the fucking bar, Maverick!” I laugh, giddy. “Can you believe it? I got a 276. A 276! And today, we find out the sex of the baby. Mav, I think this might be the best day of my life!”
I end the voice note and push away from the kitchen island. Then, I dance around my kitchen, reveling in the moment, grateful to share it with my little babe.
Once I’ve calmed down slightly, I call Dad and Jeannie who are delighted. Then, I drop a text in my girl group chat. Ivy calls me instantly and I spend time chatting with her before receiving congratulations from Nova and Allegra.
“You’re on your honeymoon,” I remind A.
“As if I wouldn’t call to tell you how damn proud of you I am,” she replies.
“Thank you, Allegra. I love you.”
“Love you more, Kenny.”
“Have fun on your honeymoon.”
“It’s doubling as a baby moon,” she laughs.
I chuckle. “See you when you get back?”
“Yes! I have so many nursery ideas to discuss with you.”
“Jeannie is creating daily mood boards,” I inform her. “And I have a gazillion pins on Pinterest.”
She laughs. “I thought you’d be too busy with your job search.”
