Chapter Ten
Adam
It’s the Monday before Christmas, and the way the days fall this year makes it so the office will be closed Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday.
We’re already closed on weekends, so next week, I’ll only work on Monday because we’re closed Tuesday for New Year’s Eve.
So really, I have just a few days left of work, which makes getting out of my car to head inside really difficult.
I fell into this job because of Leslie’s uncle.
I never thought I would be good at it, and somehow I ended up being one of the best realtors in the county.
Some say it’s my charm, others say it’s my looks, I just think it’s luck.
This is a job I don’t have to try hard at.
I don’t have to do much selling, either, all I do is show the clients what they want, point out it’s what they need, and it’s sold—very simple.
I’ve been at Key Cove Realty for nearly thirteen years. When I told my boss I would be ending my contract with them this year, it was easy because it made sense. I was doing it for my kids, to be with them, to make sure they had a father who cared about them in their lives.
But now… heading in for my last few days is bitter sweet. This place has become a second home, my co-workers like family, and though I can keep in touch, it’s more than that. It’s the job.
It’s not the typical place where you have repeat customers and become friendly with them.
This job is more about the happiness in clients’ eyes when they find out they won the bid, or the embrace they share after signing papers, or the tears that spill when they find out they’re approved for a loan they didn’t think they would get.
I am a part of people’s happiness. I am a part of the process of starting the next step in their lives.
That’s important to me. And I’m sure most of these people never think of me again, but I think about them a lot.
I wonder where they are now, and if they finally started those families they talked about, wonder if they decorated the kids’ rooms the way they said they would or wanted to.
Then I wonder how much those rooms have changed because kids grow so fast and they grow out of their interests even faster.
This is more than just a job for me, and leaving it will be difficult.
I don’t know what lies on the other side.
I’ve had interviews, and I have more lined up.
I’ve been offered a handful of jobs, all that come with exceptional pay.
But none of them feel right, and I can’t help but think about what Emmet said to me the other day, about being a teacher.
I’m not sure that’s the answer to my problem, but it made me realize that I have options. There are plenty of things for me to do, so do I want to jump right back into realty? Or do I choose something else?
I have too many things going on to consider going back to school, but I have a lot of credits.
I’d still have to take a few classes, of course, depending which direction I want to go in.
Maybe I’d need a semester or two. I’m not sure.
I’ll look at it another time to figure it out, because now really isn’t the time.
I need to worry about my fully moving to Seattle, my kids, and this separation that will soon turn into a full-blown divorce.
And right now, I need to get out of my car and head inside to have my second-to-last Monday at Key Cove Realty.
I get my briefcase from the back seat and head toward the sleek, modern building.
It has floor to ceiling windows, allowing the passersby to look in and see us at work.
Though, us realtors don’t spend much time in the office.
We’re mostly out showing houses and browsing for new properties.
When I pull open the front door, I’m not surprised to see it empty, save for one co-worker.
“Morning, Adam,” Vernon calls out cheerily from his desk.
It’s an open space, with nine desks lined up three-by-three. There is a break room around the privacy wall to the left, along with the bathrooms and the storage room.
“Morning,” I respond as I put my things down on my desk.
“I’m glad you’re here,” he says, coming over to me. “The coffee machine isn’t working, and since you’re much younger than me, I was hoping you’d take a look at it. I really need some caffeine.”
I chuckle as I pull out my laptop. “Sure thing. I could use some coffee too, actually. My flight was late, so I wasn’t able to stop.”
“Hopefully, you can get it working then. It’ll brighten our Monday.”
“If not, I’ll run out to get us some.”
“Well, now I wish it wouldn’t work,” he says with a laugh.
He follows me to the breakroom. I nearly fall on my ass when a crowd of people jump up and shout “Surprise!”
“Jesus,” I mutter, laughing and looking back at Vernon, whose face is red from laughter.
“Surprise,” he says.
I shake my head, walking deeper into the room.
I’m greeted by my co-workers and my boss, all of them wishing me luck and telling me they’re going to miss me.
There is a huge cake laid out on the table that smells so good.
Normally I eat healthy, and cake in the morning isn’t an option, but today, I’m making an exception.
I’m handed bags of gifts, and given hugs, and then Vernon walks up to me with a cup of coffee and a grin.
“Here you go. Sorry for lying.”
I take the coffee and take a sip. “You’re forgiven. It’s made right.”
He chuckles, then leaves, disappearing into the crowd with the rest of the people.
My boss, Tim Brogan, comes over, patting me on the back.
“I’m sad to see you go,” he says.
“Thanks for that, Tim.”
He’s been my boss since I started here. He and another guy, who I don’t remember the name of. because he left a few months after I started, were the ones who hired me. Leaving here is surreal.
“I always knew you would do good things here,” he adds. “If you ever decide to come back and need a place to work, you call me directly.”
“I’ll do that. Thank you.”
“Oh, also, I didn’t get you a gift exactly.”
“No need—”
“Nonsense,” he says, waving me off. “My gift to you is that today is your last day.”
“What?” falls from my lips. “No. I couldn’t.”
“You can and you will. I’m sorry if it’ll be a pain changing flights and stuff, but go home and spend the extra time with your kids. It’s Christmas. You only get so many of them while they’re little and happy.”
Tears sting my eyes. It’s the best gift he could have given me.
By the time I finish up with my day, I’m exhausted.
I met with clients, showed houses, added listings, and cleared out my desk.
Now, I’m staring at said desk as if I’m leaving a person and not a chunk of wood.
I’m grateful for being able to head home today and not have to come back—at least not for work.
I hadn’t scheduled any clients for the rest of my days because I knew I would be busy dispersing listings and finishing everything up.
Tim assured me he would handle all that.
As I walk out the door, I remind myself this isn’t the last time I’ll be here, and I can stop by whenever I want.
My house is here. I haven’t decided what I want to do with it, but I need to clear it out and move all my stuff to Seattle, now that I won’t need it here.
Something has me holding onto the house, though, and not wanting to sell it just yet.
I imagine this is what all those people I helped feel like when they had to sell their properties.
Not when they wanted to, but when they had to, for one reason or another.
It sucks.
I don’t want to sell my house. I don’t want to live in Seattle. I want my life to go back to the way it was, only… I really don’t.
I wasn’t happy with Leslie, but I was happy with my life. The house, the wife, the kids, the job. It was perfect, but it was all a mirage. Inside, our marriage was sour, and that trickled down onto everything else.
I’m happier now, just in a different way. There’s still something missing, though.
And maybe, just maybe, that thing is waiting for me in Seattle.