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Maggie had felt safe sharing that. Someone would probably post pictures of the production vans on TikTok. “Yup. It’s make-or-break time for me. This is when we find out if I can do this.”
“You keep saying that, but things aren’t that dire. If this gig falls through, they’re always hiring at Starbucks.”
Maggie had almost gone that way during the trial. “I don’t even like coffee that much.”
“Don’t tell them that during the interview. Seriously, though, how are you holding up?”
“It’s like the first year of teaching.” Meaning that Maggie felt underprepared and as if every step was taking her three times as long as it needed to. “I want to be good at this. I want to be good at this so badly.”
“Youaregood at this. You’re good at everything.”
If that was true, why had Maggie found herself unemployed and humiliated? Why was she remaking herself in her late thirties, when she really ought to have been on the cusp of getting bored with her life and having a midlife crisis instead?
“You have to say that. You’re my best friend.”
“I don’t have to say crap. And besides, the fact we’re friends proves your awesomeness.”
Savannah wasn’t suffering from a lack of self-confidence. Well, one of them should be well adjusted.
“Enough about me, how is Emily?” Emily was the concertmaster for the local symphony orchestra and Savannah’s on-again, off-again girlfriend.
“Exploring things with her ex from college.”
“Ouch.” That had to have hurt.
“It’s okay. I may be too bi for her anyhow.”
Savannah was playing it off, but from previous iterations of this fight, Maggie knew that it stung. “You want to talk about it?”
“Nope.”
What she needed was a girls’ night—and Maggie was halfway around the world.
“Got it.” With Emily off the table—and with her, music, the farmers’ market, and brunch were off the table too—what was safe to discuss? “How are my verdant babies?” When Maggie had taken this job, she’dsublet her place and put most of her things in storage. Savannah had been kind enough to take possession of her collection of houseplants.
It had started during quarantine with one or two pots, but it had quickly spread to every windowsill and side table of her condo. Maggie had thought she’d missed the green thumb gene, but it turned out you could learn how not to kill plants. There were books and YouTube channels and everything.
“You literally left me a calendar with daily instructions.”
“You wouldn’t want to confuse the ferns and the snake plant.” For starters, one had to be watered daily, and the other would only need to be watered twice during Maggie’s entire absence.
“You labeled every pot with the inhabitant’s name and a QR code I can scan for a complete dossier on the variety.” Savannah’s tone was dry, but really, she knew what Maggie was like.
“I just wanted to make it easy for you. Plus, you know, educational. How are things otherwise in Eugene?” Savannah would know that was code forHow are my former students?As bruised as Maggie still was by her old job, she did miss everyone.
“Excellent. Amira got into Berkeley.”
“Have her parents relaxed?”
“Of course not. They still have to ensure she gets all As for med school. They’ve probably started stressing about whether she’ll land the right residency.”
How exhausting for Amira ... but also for her parents. When every step of your life was about what came next—when nothing was worth celebrating or brought security, because there was always another thing and then another—where was the achievement in that? The rest? The fun?
Maggie tried not to think about the agenda that was sitting on the hotel desk ... and the similar agendas for every other day of the shoot that were in her accordion files.
This was different. Totally different.
“And the school board?”
