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“Blaire, thank God. You will not believe the day I’ve had,” I answered in lieu of any formal greeting. We’ve been best friends since birth.
“Just pretend we’re in our favorite armchairs at Ridge Reads, and tell me all about it.”
My reflexive smile at the thought of my family’s small bookstore in Holly Ridge faded from my face as I remembered how tense things were between my parents and me, given the fact I was anywhere but home right now.
“You’re not actually anywhere near my parents right now, right? They do not need any more ammunition to add to the come-home-and-fulfill-your-family-duty fire right now.”
“No, no. I promise. I’m at home waiting for Cole to get back from some meeting or another. No prying ears anywhere around. Hit me with the day.” Cole was Blaire’s boyfriend of almost two years. They were practically perfect together. It could make one sick, and extremely jealous, if you looked too close for too long.
I let out another rush of air as I wondered where to begin.
“Well, it started off with me being late thanks to a damn Metro delay. I didn’t realize I should budget in extra time for trains not to run on schedule. We have one stop light in town!”
“Oh, no. I’m sorry, Char. I know how much you hate being late. But surely they understand you can’t control the timing of public transportation?”
“Maybe they could have, but then I followed that performance up with spilling my new boss’s coffee all over my good luck silk shirt, and then being ten minutes late to an all-staff meeting because I got the conference room number wrong. Plus, there’s a different password for every system I need access to, all with different requirements. I share my cubicle area with someone who enjoys hard-boiled eggs for apparently every meal, and I can’t remember the name of anyone I met today.”
I felt my eyes prick with tears, the sidewalk and other commuters around me blurring, but I would not be that girl who cried on the Metro her first day in a big city, and I knew if I got started, I wouldn’t be able to stop.
“Well, fuck, babe, that is not a good day. There’s no way around it, but it is just one day, and tomorrow is a whole new one. If I know you, you’re going to be two trains earlier than you need to be, wear something black to hide any potential new food stains, and make up hilarious ways to remember everyone’s name tonight so you’re set to kill it on day two. You just need a bubble bath and some wine tonight.”
Blaire’s comforting words didn’t help stem the tears that were now falling from my eyes and slowly rolling down my cheeks. We had been apart when Blaire went to college and I stayed home to work at the bookstore, and while she was making a name for herself in the small-town festival circuit. The difference was I had been home and now I was suddenly very much not home.
“Thanks, Blaire. You’re right. I printed out the train schedule before I left the office and emailed myself the link to the company directory to start memorizing names and faces. I think I just needed to talk it out. I’ll let you get back to heating up your sexy times chocolate fudge.”
“We tried that one time!” Blaire said, trying to sound indignant, but failing to succeed as her laughter carried through the connection to my ear.
I felt myself laughing as well, suddenly feeling lighter, but definitely in need of a bath and wine, stat.
“Everything’s okay with you all?” I asked.
“Yup, same old here. Spent my day setting up the execution binder for this year’s holiday festival, so you know it was a good day. Though Austin is over at our place a lot more now that you’re gone. I may need to send him to your place via express mail sometime soon.”
I laughed. Austin was Cole’s best friend. Our bond had started because our best friends were dating each other, but the resulting friendship was very real.
“I’ll keep an eye out for that delivery notification. I’m almost at the Metro now, so I better hang up.”
“I’ll talk to you soon, Charlotte, okay? Let me know how things go tomorrow. I’ll be sending you good vibes. Love you.”
“Thanks, Blaire. Love you too.”
I slid my phone into my bag, wiping the last of the tears from under my eyes as I descended into the Metro station. Taking a moment to place my earbuds firmly in my ears, I pressed play on today’s audiobook. I tapped my SmarTrip card on the reader and found my way to the platform where my train was just arriving. Maybe my luck was turning around.
I found an open seat, even during the evening rush, and sat looking out the window at the darkened tunnel as the train moved toward my condo’s stop. I felt a touch dramatic about how upset I had been over my day, but Blaire wasn’t wrong when she said I hated to be late. I also hate looking unprepared or feeling like I’ve failed at something. And while I was feeling dramatic, it truly seemed as if the weight of my world depended on this internship going well. I had given up a lot to be in this city at all right now. That’s not saying bridges have already been burned, but one could say the kindling is set at the bottom of the trestles, ready to send them up in flames. Regardless, for once, it was time to bet on myself and I was here to write my own chapter in the book world.I was proud of myself for taking the chance and settled on manifesting a better day for tomorrow.
Exiting the Metro, I realized I’d zoned out through several minutes of the book one of my currently nameless coworkers had recommended at lunch. I would need to rewind, so I didn’t get lost. I’d be sure to look up her name first, in case she asked about it tomorrow. Turning the corner, I started the last block toward my borrowed condo in the Navy Yard neighborhood of Southeast DC. Not even my terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day could stop me from appreciating the bustling neighborhood I would spend the next four months in. Gentrification had taken this area over in the last fifteen years and the result was high-rise apartment and condo buildings all around. The neighborhood boasted close access to the city’s baseball and soccer stadiums and all the hip—and for my budget, overpriced—bars and restaurants a thirty-something could want.
I waved myself into the lobby, feeling the rush of AC blow as I stepped onto the dark marble floors of the modern-looking space. I waved hello to the concierge. The promise of a cold shower to wash the sweat and the smell of coffee off my body kept me moving.
“Good evening, Ms. Reid. How was your day?” the concierge greeted me, as I made my way past his desk, where he sorted packages from the day’s deliveries.
“Hiya, Herold. It definitely could have been better, but I’m glad to be back inside in the AC,” I responded.
“It’s a hot one today for sure, and only going to be hotter tomorrow. Looks like we’ll get a break by the weekend, though.”
“Well, thank goodness for that. Have a nice night, sir!” I waved goodbye and walked around the corner to the elevator.
I could never have afforded a closet in this building, or even one in a different neighborhood that came with a concierge on my intern stipend alone, but my mom was talking about my internship one day at the bookstore—complaining about it more likely. Margaret Hayes happened to be there to pick up her newest cozy mystery, and it turned out her oldest stepson, Duncan Brandt, had a condo here in DC. He would be abroad completing business deals across Europe—casual, I know—and folks from Holly Ridge helped their own. I felt guilty taking a connection I knew only came up because mom was info dumping on innocent bystanders about my “abandoning the family business,” but also, did I mention I’m a thirty-something living on an intern stipend? Not really a time to be picky.
