Читать книгу A Year of Second Chances - Buffy Andrews - Страница 14

Chapter 6

I stared at the list and my eyes kept settling on: Have a career I love,

I wasn’t sure I’d ever had a career I loved. I’d had a job, one that allowed me to be off when the kids were so I could take care of them. And when the kids got older and I swapped my job as a school cafeteria monitor for that of an executive assistant, it wasn’t because it was a career I loved, but one that paid more. But today, if I could do anything I wanted, what would it be? I wondered.

Oh, to be young again and have my whole life ahead of me. I had a degree in marketing, but so much had changed since I’d graduated. Listening to Tory talk about behavioral segmentation, SEO, brand social sites and myriad other terms foreign to me made my head spin. The world I’d once studied had changed completely and I was no longer qualified to do anything more than answer the phones. I knew I could go back to school and learn what I didn’t know, but did I want to?

I Googled How to find a career you love. Among the advice I found: leverage your interests, think about what you enjoy that you also do well.

I clicked on a link to take a quiz that would tell me what type of career fitted my personality. I wasn’t surprised to see sales and marketing and business operations and management among the areas suggested.

I realized that, over the years, I’d limited my career options. Practicality and how much money I made had been my primary criteria. But what if they weren’t? What would I be interested in doing if money was of no concern?

I wondered if I was chasing an elusive dream. Did anyone get real fulfillment from their job? I wasn’t sure I could leave my job without knowing what I was going to do next, and yet I imagined how freeing it would be, having time to invest all my energy into finding the next thing. Still, the sense of urgency that would accompany such a bold move might be paralyzing. But if there was ever a time to do it, that time was now. I had to stop letting financial pressures dictate my choices. I really wanted to spend the rest of my life doing something I loved.

I pulled the painted rock magnet out of my pocket and turned it over in my hand. Why not? I thought. Why can’t I open my own boutique? It was on the list.

For the past several years, the city had experienced revitalization with specialty shops and eateries sprouting up along the main corridor. Just recently I’d ventured downtown to buy some handmade soap and saw a beautiful brownstone for sale. My head started spinning as ideas began swirling around, turning my gray matter into bright, bold colors.

My phone rang. It was Shonna. “How’d the gym visit go?”

“Well, I joined. My first workout is tomorrow.”

“You go, girlfriend!”

“Yeah, and then I ran into Mike at the grocery store looking like I’d just crawled out of bed. And I had two zits! Two of them! And of course he looked great. No zits. No wrinkles. No gray hairs.”

Shonna laughed. “Men suck like that. And I have a zit, too. On my chin. Where’s yours?”

“On either side of my mouth. I named them Chuck and Doris.”

Shonna cleared her throat. “After those two jerks at work?”

“Yes, because I’m pretty sure that’s why I have them.”

Shonna laughed. “I’ll have to start naming mine. The problem is they’d all be named Roger.”

“Things still aren’t any better?”

Shonna sighed. “Everything he does is really beginning to annoy me. He doesn’t know how to be quiet in the morning when I’m sleeping. He leaves beard shavings in the bathroom sink. He can’t watch anything on TV unless it’s sports. He’s always putting his hand inside his pocket and scratching his balls. And he says he wants to take me out but never plans the outing. Oh, and this is a good one – he gives observations instead of compliments. It drives me crazy!”

“Give me an example.”

“Okay. Here’s one. The other day I came home and he said, ‘Oh, you changed your hair.’ Instead of telling me that my new haircut looked nice.”

“I didn’t know you got a new do. Send me a selfie.”

“I will but you get what I’m saying, right?”

I laughed. “But all guys scratch their balls.”

“I know, but when Roger does it I’m more annoyed than when I see other guys do it. Enough about Roger. Any list updates?”

I told Shonna about my career research. “Do you love your job?”

I could tell from the pregnant pause that Shonna was thinking about it. “I used to, but I’m not sure I do anymore. Working in non-profit management has paid the bills and it’s been easy for me. But sometimes I regret not going to law school like I’d planned.”

“So what’s stopping you from going now?”

“Well, to be honest, I have looked into it off and on over the years, but it’s incredibly expensive. And now I have two kids, both of whom I’ll be helping with college tuition, pursuing my passion is out of the question.”

I shifted in my seat. “Have you ever talked to Roger about it?”

“Once and he pooh-poohed the idea, telling me it would be a lousy investment because there are so many starving lawyers. After that, I never brought it up again. And, to be honest, I was hurt he hadn’t listened to what I was saying. I tried to explain why it was so important to me, but he only saw dollar signs. Instead of working with me to figure out a way, he shut me down. So why all the job talk?”

“Well, having a career I love is on the list, so I’ve been thinking about what I’d do if money wasn’t an issue.”

“And?”

“And, well, maybe I’d sell the house, move into the city and open a boutique.”

“Wow! You have been thinking about this.”

“Look, Tory is graduating and I don’t need this big house anymore. While living downtown isn’t like living in New York City, it’s at least closer to my dream than living in the suburbs surrounded by rolling farmland. Not that it’s not pretty; it’s beautiful. But I’m ready for a change.”

I heard Maggie in the background and Shonna telling her she was on the phone.

“Well, I can see the boutique. You’ve always wanted to own a shop. Remember the one you had when we were kids?”

I laughed. “I found some of my old inventory in the same box I found the list in. Magnets, bookmarks, bracelets.”

Shonna laughed. “Oh my gosh. Too funny. Remember the noodle necklaces you made? You’d paint penne pasta and string them together using colored plastic cord.”

I smiled. “Yeah, I found one of those in the box, too.”

I told Shonna about the property I’d seen for sale. “It would be great to find a place where I could have the boutique on the first floor and live upstairs.”

“You should do it,” Shonna said. “You should absolutely do it. You have nothing to lose. You’re right. Tory’s moving. Your parents are moving. If you want to stay in the area, why not move to the city and do something you’ve always wanted to do?”

As soon as I ended my conversation with Shonna, I looked up the property and called the real-estate agent who’d listed it. We made plans for him to show me this property as well as a few others the next day. I’d have time to work out with Renee, come home and shower, and meet Ed by one.

I was nearly finished making Tory’s graduation gift. I knew she’d expect it because I’d made a quilt for David when he’d graduated. I’d saved scraps of her clothing over the years and turned them into quilt patches. There was a patch from her first Easter dress. One from her Brownie uniform. Another from her first ballet costume. Looking at the patches on the quilt flooded me with memories. Life really did go by in a blink.

I heard Muffin scratch on the door and opened it so she could join me in my sewing/craft room. She hated being alone as much as I did. I pointed to the floor beside the chair. “You sit there while I embroider this tag.”

I pulled the black strand through the cream-colored cloth, finishing the date. Then I looked at my handiwork.

To Tory

Love you with all my heart, Mom

May 8, 2017

I held it up to show Muffin. “So, what do you think, Muff?”

She cocked her little head and made a low-pitched moan.

“Now to sew the tag on and wrap it.”

I looked at the backside of the tag with its knots and loose threads, and then at the front. Funny how something could be both beautiful and ugly, depending on your perspective. It occurred to me that life was like that, and I wondered if we had to see ugliness to know beauty. Or if there was beauty in ugliness.

Whenever I thought of beauty and ugliness in the same sentence, I thought of one of my high-school classmates. Hope was beautiful on the outside but ugly on the inside. I used to think she didn’t fit her name at all. Dope would’ve been more fitting than Hope. She was mean and her sense of entitlement destroyed any friendships she ever had. Shonna and I used to wonder how the most beautiful person in school could also be the ugliest. The last I heard, Hope was alone. But then so was I.

I finished sewing on the patch and wrapped Tory’s present in pink paper and topped it with a white bow. Like me, pink was her favorite color, as evidenced by the preponderance of pink quilt squares.

I picked up Muffin and let her outside to go to the bathroom. If I lived in the city, I might not be able to do this. Chances were I wouldn’t have much of a yard, if one at all. I remembered seeing a lot of paid dog walkers back in my nanny days. Often they’d end up at the park like me. I felt badly for the dogs, especially for the big ones. I wondered if they missed running through open fields and flowery meadows. But then I realized they couldn’t miss what they didn’t know. They were used to city life and had no idea it could be better.

I wondered if it was better not to know things. Like the future. If I’d had a crystal ball with the power to show me my tomorrows, I don’t think I would have looked in it. For me, the most important part of life had always been the journey. The mountains we climbed, the valleys we crossed, and all of the swaying bridges over troubled waters that turned our knuckles white as we held on for dear life. But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t sometimes want to know the future (ahem, did I have breast cancer?), if only because of the peace of mind it would provide. Especially when it came to the kids.

I thought when they became older I’d worry about them less, but that never happened. In fact, the older they got, the more anxiety I had. If they weren’t home by curfew I’d convince myself they were lying dead in a ditch. It had been much easier to keep them safe when they were young, when I was the one in control. But as they grew, my control lessened. Eventually, I just had to let go and pray. I still prayed a lot. And I didn’t think I’d ever stop worrying about them. But I’d found some peace in knowing I’d done the best I could. It might not have been good enough, but it was my best.

Speaking of the kids, I could tell by the ringtone on my phone that David was calling. I had different ringtones for David and Tory. His was techno and Tory’s was classical.

“Hi, David.”

“Hey, Mom. Did you get the flight itinerary I sent you?”

“Yep. Can’t wait to see you.”

“Likewise. Anything new?”

I told David about the gym.

“I know. Tory called and told me.”

I shook my head. “I figured she would.”

David laughed “You ought to try CrossFit, Mom. It’s a great workout.”

“Not sure I’m ready for that.”

“How’s Muffin?”

“Good. She’ll be glad to see you, I’m sure. Work going okay?”

“Not bad. Been putting in some long hours. It’ll be good to have a weekend off. Most weekends I’m working.”

“Are you sure working for this tech start-up is what you want to do?”

“I know it sounds crazy because I could be making a lot more money doing something else, but I love being a part of building a company from scratch. Yes, the hours suck. Yes, the money sucks. There’s no time clock or recognition for working overtime. It’s an expectation rather than an exception. And yet the thrill I get when solving a problem and the high I get from seeing the company I work for succeed keeps me pumped.”

My heart sang as I listened to David talk about his job. The thing I’d always wanted most for my children was for them to be happy. Truly happy. And I could tell David was. I guess that’s why I blurted out I was thinking about quitting my job.

David coughed. “Whoa! What? Why?”

“I just think it’s time for me to do something else, something fun, and something I’ve always wanted to do.”

I could hear the high-pitched uncertainty in David’s voice. “O-kay. So what is it that you always wanted to do?”

I raked my front teeth over my bottom lip and wondered how much I should say. “I was thinking about opening a boutique downtown.”

“Hmm, well that’s not what I expected.”

“It’s not? What did you expect?”

“Oh, I don’t know, Mom. Maybe go back to school and get your teaching degree.”

“Teaching degree. Really?”

“Yeah, I mean, you always liked kids and enjoyed teaching Sunday school and being my and Tory’s scout leader.”

“True, but I don’t feel called to teach. When I hear you talk about your job, David, I can hear the excitement in your voice. Even though the hours and pay aren’t what you’d like, you love what you’re doing and see it as an investment in your future. I want to feel that jazzed about my job. I’m tired of my Sundays being dominated by that sinking feeling the workweek is looming.”

“There’s actually a name for that, Mom. It’s call the Sunday Night Blues.”

I laughed.

“I’m pretty sure, Mom, that people who like their jobs experience a little of that, too. They see the weekend fun coming to an end and the start of five days of pressure.”

“And poor you,” I interrupted. “You don’t seem to have much fun, even on weekends.”

“Well, next weekend I will. I’ll text you when my plane lands. Is Dad driving up with us?”

“No, separate. But he’s staying at the same hotel and said you can sleep in his room if you want.”

“Sounds good. Thanks, Mom. Love you.”

“I love you more!”

I couldn’t wait to see David. While I loved both of my children equally, David and I shared something special. Maybe it was that mother-son thing people talked about. Or because he was my firstborn and I almost lost him when I slipped on a patch of ice and fell. I wasn’t sure, but if there was anything I’d learned from David, it was that you shouldn’t let money stand in your way of doing what you love. He’d followed his passion and talking to him made me want to follow mine.