Page 20 of The Difference Between

I considered stabbing him in the temple with the heel of my shoe but opted for the ironic lie of, “I have a date.” I didn’t tell him it was with my own misery.

For the first time ever, I left work early. I don’t want to take the sabbatical—it will be three straight months of feeling like this—but the more I replay Trish’s words, the more I know I don’t have a choice. If I show up at work tomorrow, it will confirm what they think: I can’t shut it off or listen to the boss’s orders. I could quit—I’ve thought of that option at least four hundred times—but it would be a cop-out.

Sabbaticals are paid—I’m not hurting for money—and I hate the idea of losing Fizz Co to Matt. I refuse to let it happen.

The instant I turn my phone back on, it pings with dozens of notifications. I ignore the emails—none of them are from Trish telling me she changed her mind—and go to the texts from my sisters.

Rue: Mom just woke up. She’s groggy but drank some water.

Remy: And freaked out when she looked in the mirror and saw the strip of her hair that was shaved.

Rue: And that. But she was fine when Bennie offered vintage scarves from the store. Surgeon said other than the minor complications that the surgery went well. We’ll know in the next couple of days how recovery’s going to go but he’s hopeful. Nash, Bennie, and I will stay with her when we take her home.

Remy: Kids and I will take the weekend shifts.

Remy: Nora’s karaoke birthday party should still be a go too. Even if Mom’s not 100% we can keep them in her backyard.

Are these two kidding? I check my calendar; that’s barely a month away. A karaoke birthday party. After Mom’s brain surgery. In her backyard.

Rue: That’s a good idea. We’ll help.

“A good idea?” I mutter to myself. “Why not send a mariachi band into the hospital room?”

Rue: Can you get me a coffee while you’re down there? I’m losing steam.

Remy: Already got it. Is Reese ignoring us again?

Rue: She’s probably counting her money.

Remy: Should I continue the alphabet?

Rue: Bring coffee first.

At this, I roll my eyes but join the conversation. You’re having a kid’s karaoke birthday party at Mom’s house a month after brain surgery?

Remy: We’ll keep it outside. Mom has a better backyard, and my rental is too small for twelve kids plus parents. We can keep an eye on her. And one guy on the tumor forum hosted Thanksgiving three weeks after his surgery. Cooked the turkey and everything.

She’s not wrong about recovery times, they can vary greatly. Some people walk on day one, some people are still struggling to get around six months later. But twelve kids?

Rue: Or we can move it to my house and take turns driving to check on Mom?

What?

Me: Now you’re going to leave Mom at home alone? After brain surgery?

Rue: I can’t with you, Reese. We’re trying here, but we still have lives to work around. And the party is in a month.

Remy: We totally got this

At the smiley face emoji, I bite my lip.

I was once at a business conference where the keynote speaker talked about something called the Red Queen Effect. It comes from the Lewis Carroll quote from Through the Looking-Glass where the Red Queen tells Alice, “It takes all the running you can do, to keep in the same place.” It’s the idea that to stay competitive, businesses—and people—constantly need to innovate, and even that’s not enough because everyone else is doing the same. It’s a life spent running as hard and as fast as you can in hopes of getting a fraction of an inch ahead of everyone else.

I’ve obliged.

I’ve kept going, evolving, pushing every limit, and because of that, I’ve been ahead of my peers for as long as I can remember. Top of my class in high school and college and now, most people at the firm. I work hard; people around me work hard; I work harder.

Lather, rinse, repeat.