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“…Happy last day to Lauren, Happy last day to you!”
She smiles sadly at me and then blows out the candles. The whole place cheers.
“You’re all getting a piece,” Lauren tells them as I put down the cake. Samuel goes into the back to get some plates and a knife. “You’re so sweet, Norah. You made this?”
“I did. I can’t believe you’re leaving.”
“Me too,” she says as she takes a deep breath. “I’m going to do okay, right?”
“You’re going to do amazing!” I tell her, even though I still don’t know what she’ll be doing. “You’re going to be the best data person scientist that company has ever seen!”
She laughs. “We’re still going to hang out, aren’t we?”
“Of course!” I tell her, even though I know we won’t. That’s how it always works. Someone leaves the pub and promises that they’ll keep in touch, but they leave and I never really hear from them again. I know it will be the same with Lauren, which hurts because she makes working here fun. She’s always been my favorite.
But our schedules will be too different. When she’s off, I’ll be working, and when I’m off, she’ll be at work. It just never works.
Corporate schedules and vampire schedules just don’t mix.
“I’m going to miss you,” I tell her as I pull out the candles, trying not to cry.
“We’ll still hang out!”
I don’t say anything.
“Norah,” she says, piercing me with her eyes. “Are you okay?”
I shrug. “I don’t know… It’s just… I’m so happy for you. It’s just I didn’t think I’d be the last one left. Everyone has gone on to all these amazing career opportunities and it feels like I’m just stuck here existing. I’m not working toward anything.”
“You have your real estate thing,” she says, trying to be upbeat. “That’s exciting.”
“Yeah.” I just want to drop the subject. Why did I even bring it up? We should be celebrating and here I am being a downer.
I shake it out and plaster a smile on my face as Samuel returns with the plates and the knife.
“Strawberry lemonade cake,” I say as I take the knife from him. “Your favorite.”
Lauren hugs me. “You’re so sweet, Norah. Thank you.”
I put on a brave face as I massacre my cake, slicing it into dozens of pieces while Lauren walks around and hands them out.
“…yeah, I’m going to be a data scientist…” I overhear her saying to a table of smiling customers.
I have to do something. I have to get out of here.
Maybe I should try to get back into real estate. I took the course, got my realtor license, but then it all fizzled out.
You need tons of money to get started. I needed money for marketing, ads, flyers, and to pay for photos of the houses before you even sell one. And who has money for all that?
I had business cards printed up and I left them in the back of taxi cabs to try and get some clients. Whenever someone had too much to drink and I called them a cab, I would walk them to the taxi and throw a card into the back when they weren’t looking. I figured if someone had enough money to pay for a cab, they might need a realtor.
It didn’t work. I got exactly zero calls.
And then summer hit, and the bar got busy, and my career as a real estate agent got pushed further and further back until it was so far in my rearview mirror that I couldn’t see it anymore.
The front door opens and a drunk guy staggers in. He looks like he’s in his late forties or early fifties, probably a divorced dad. You can tell by the bright white New Balance sneakers, cargo shorts, old green Polo shirt with the warped collar, and round belly.
He stumbles over to the bar and sits right in front of me.
