Dear Patience, Sincerely Lucy

1

To my husband, Nick.

I love you!

You never know what moments are going to change the course of your life.

“So, you’re really leaving?”

Scott glances over at me and grins. “What, are you disappointed?”

“No.” I frown as I add soy milk to the coffee I just poured. “I’m just surprised, is all.”

He slides a frappe across the counter and calls out a name, then turns back to me. “Why are you surprised?”

I shrug. “I don’t know, I just thought you’d stick around here and go to college.”

He swirls whipped cream on another drink and grimaces. “I’ve told you a hundred times what I think about college. I hate school.”

“Yeah, I know, but you got a part time job at this local coffee shop, and you have a girlfriend here in town. Doesn’t seem like you were planning to leave.”

Scott shrugs. We make several more drinks before the morning rush finally starts to slow. The two of us work pretty well together, and we usually have a lot of fun. We have a lot in common, most of our hobbies intersect, and we’re the same age. Both of us started working at this café about a year ago. Since we’re both now fresh out of high school and have similar schedules, we end up working most shifts together.

That works out well for me, because I’m about a hundred times more motivated to go into work when I know Scott will be there.

“So, where are you going, anyway?” I cross my arms and lean back against the counter behind me during a rare, customer-free moment.

Scott smiles. “North Carolina.”

I blink. “North Carolina? Why would you go all the way to North Carolina?”

“I want to be a videographer,” Scott says, taking a rag and wiping down the work area. “My family has this friend who’s got a really successful video production business over there. He said I could shadow him for a couple of years and he’ll teach me everything he knows.”

“Wow, that’s… really cool.” I smile, though I don’t really feel all that happy. “It’s great that you already know what you want to do with your life.”

He grins. “What about you, Lucy? What are you gonna do? You going to college around here?”

My stomach jumps at the question, and a familiar sense of dread looms over me. Ever since my freshman year of high school, everyone has been asking me what I’m going to do, who I’m going to be, where I’m going to school. But I never have an answer.

It’s not like I haven’t tried to figure it out. I have. I’ve visited so many colleges, I’ve looked into so many careers, but there’s nothing that really grabs me. My classmates all seem to have it figured out—they’d come back from college visits decked out in the school’s gear, excitedly gushing about the campus, the classes they’ll take, the dorms… I tried to mirror their excitement. I picked a local college, something I could use as an answer to give the droves of distant, nosy family members or talkative neighbors when they ask what I’m going to do. I tried to get myself pumped up, tried to make the best of it, tried to be… well, normal.

But, deep down, there’s this nagging fear that maybe something is wrong with me. Everyone else has a dream. Why don’t I?

Why does everyone but me seem to have a clear cut purpose?

I turn back to Scott, who’s still watching me, waiting patiently for my answer about whether or not I’m going to college.

“I guess.”

“You guess?”

I sigh. “I mean, yes, I’m going.”

Scott gives me a confused look. “You don’t sound very sure.”

“It’s not that…”

“What’s your major gonna be?”

Now it’s my turn to grimace. “I don’t know.”

“Well… what do you want to do once you get out of college?”

“I don’t know,” I admit.

Scott tilts his head, then rubs his chin like he’s thinking. “What do you like doing? Like, what’s your passion, or whatever?”

“I don’t know.”

He frowns. “Are those the only English words you know?”

I snort. “I don’t—”

“Seriously, Lucy. There’s gotta be something you want to do!”

I shake my head. “That’s easy for you to say.”

“What do you mean?”

“You already have it all figured out. You know you want to be a videographer, and you have it all worked out on how to get there.” I shove his arm. “I don’t have any idea what I want to do with my life.”

I move to the register and take a new customer’s order, putting on my brightest smile and making quick conversation before handing the order sticker to Scott, who makes drinks faster than anyone else currently on staff. He slides the drink over the counter to the female customer, who’s clearly trying to get his attention, then turns back to me.

“It’s not a bad thing to not know. We’re only eighteen; it’s not like we have any idea what we’re doing.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Why would you waste money at college if you don’t even want to go?”

“Because,” I answer, hands on my hips, “that’s what you do. You graduate high school and go to college. And I don’t think my parents, who I live with, would appreciate it if I just decided not to go.”

“Don’t your parents want you to do something you love?”

“I think their biggest concern is that I have a stable life with a well paying job,” I say.

“Come on, there’s got to be something you want to do,” Scott says.

“I’m serious, Scott.” I’m starting to get frustrated. “I have no idea. I don’t have a dream. I don’t have this big huge thing I want to do. I don’t know.”

He falls silent for a moment, and I’m assuming this conversation is over when he speaks again.

“Okay, then, can I give you some advice?”

I glance up at him. “Advice?”

He nods. “Put off college for one year. That’s called a gap year, right? Take a gap year and try everything you can. If something sounds interesting, try it. Try everything. Figure out something you really like and want to do. Then, if you still want to go to college, go ahead, but maybe this year you’ll find something you really love and end up doing that instead.”

“A gap year?” My lip quirks. “I don’t know about that. What if I don’t find anything I like and end up wasting a year of my life? Then I’ll just be behind everyone else who went to school right away.”

“It’s not a waste.” Scott shakes his head. “It’s never a waste to try things.”

“Even if I hate the things I try?”

“Isn’t it better to try something and learn that you hate it, than to never try it and regret it? Maybe you’ll find your dream.”

I stare back in his green eyes, which are now sparkling with excitement. Maybe it’s because I have a massive crush on him, but it’s really hard for me to say no to Scott. His infectious smile breaks through my hesitation, and I sigh.

“Maybe… I could try it, for just one year, since I don’t know what to do anyway… But that’s if I can convince my parents to go along with it.” The idea that I just haven’t found the thing meant for me to do yet is alluring.

“Yes!” He pumps his fist in the air, and I laugh. “Hey, I’ll be back in town each Christmas. How about next Christmas we meet up and you can tell me about everything that you tried?”

“Next Christmas?” I ask. “Not this upcoming one? Next Christmas is like… a year and a half away.”

“Right! Plenty of time for you to try stuff and figure out what you want to do.”

“Alright, fine. Next Christmas. But you better not forget.”

Scott smiles a smile so warm I feel like a melting snowman. “Are you kidding? I would never forget,” he says.

I turn away to keep him from noticing the blush on my cheeks. “So, when do you leave anyway?”

“Saturday.”

My heart sinks. It’s already Thursday, and I don’t have anymore shifts scheduled with Scott this week. “That soon?”

“Yeah. I want to get started as soon as I can.”

“Then, do you think—”

“Scott!”

I turn at the familiar voice. Cassie, Scott’s girlfriend, is standing in front of the register now, smiling at him and leaning forward over the counter. Her long black hair is curled to perfection and makeup sparkles on her cheeks.

“Hey!” Scott smiles and turns to her, though I notice his smile isn’t as bright as usual. “What can I get you?”

I tune out the rest of their conversation. Cassie sits at the bar and talks to Scott for the rest of his shift, keeping an eye on me as I work. She’s friendly when I talk to her, but it’s pretty clear she’s not my biggest fan, and I get it. If I were her and some other girl was working closely with my boyfriend every day, a girl he had a lot in common with, I’d be bothered too. And to be fair, I do really like Scott, which she probably picked up on. But she doesn’t need to worry. I would never do anything about it. He’s dating someone else, and I’m not that kind of person.

After another hour, my shift comes to an end. Scott started thirty minutes later than me, so he’ll still be here a bit. I go to the back and clock out, hanging up my apron and grabbing my bag. I would have liked to have said a better goodbye to Scott, but now doesn’t seem like a good time. I pull out my phone as I’m leaving, trying to avoid drawing anymore ire from Cassie by accidentally stealing Scott’s attention. I grab the handle of the door when Scott stops me with a shout.

“Lucy!”

I turn back around to find Cassie looking between the two of us with a perturbed expression on her face while Scott smiles the biggest smile I’ve ever seen from him. “Don’t forget, next December, here at this café.”

I shake my head and smile back, unable to help myself. “Do you have a date and time in mind?”

“December 0th at six pm. Don’t be late.”

“What’s December 0th?”

He shrugs, his goofy, lopsided grin returning. “No idea. Probably a random Tuesday.”

I laugh. “Okay. I’ll be there. Good luck, Scott.”

“You too.”

I smile and wave one last time, then leave the café. My heart jumps a little. One year… one year to give myself permission to try everything. Where should I start?

A Year and a Half Later

Last year didn’t go as planned.

My parents weren’t exactly keen on me taking a gap year. They had both attended college, and were raised in more traditional homes where education and entering the nine to five work force until retirement was expected. After some difficult back and forth, my parents agreed to let me take a gap year, despite the fact that I had no idea what I would do, so long as I continued working my job at the café; or at least kept a job. That’s how my year of trying things just for the sake of trying them started.

However, nothing really changed. I tried several things: freelance graphic design, babysitting, dog walking, after school tutoring, YouTube, flipping thrifted items or stuff from yard sales, and pretty much anything else I could try that didn’t interfere with my job at the café. I even shadowed a dog groomer for a month. But, after all that, I still had no idea what I wanted to do, and discovered several things I definitely didn’t want to do. So, about six months in, I ended up telling my manager I’d like as many hours at the café as he could give me, and planned to enroll in the community college the following semester. I didn’t want to fall any further behind my peers than I already had.

I worked my rear off, picking up shifts others dropped, and building up a savings account. I didn’t want to seem lazy, and I didn’t want my parents to think I had convinced them to let me take a gap year so I could just loaf around. I was quickly promoted to shift manager.

I was at the café so much, I became very familiar with the regulars. One woman in particular came in every morning at the same time, with perfectly styled red hair, painfully tall heels, and immaculate posture. By her looks, I assumed she was in her mid to late thirties. Her name was Monica. She didn’t make small talk, and was quick with her order, but she wasn’t impolite. After awhile, I started making her order ahead of time, and it was ready when she came in.

The fifth day I did this, she paused and looked at the drink, then at me, then asked for my name.

“I’m Lucy,” I said, smiling, though her intense gaze made it hard not to squirm.

She nodded. “Thank you, Lucy. How long have you worked here?”

I blinked. “For about two years, now.”

“You’re a manager here?”

“A shift manager, yes.”

“Hm.” She looked me up and down. “How old are you? Do you go to college?”

“I’m nineteen, and… no, not currently,” I said, feeling ashamed. “I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do, so I took a gap year.”

“I see.” She glanced around. “Is your manager here?”

“Oh, um, yes. I’ll go get him.”

“Thank you.”

I went to the back and explained to my manger that Monica was waiting at the front to speak with him. He asked me why, but I didn’t know what to tell him. Unless she was angry I’d prepared her drink ahead of time, I had no idea what she could want. They spoke for awhile, but my manager never told me what it was about.

Another month passed, and Monica came in each day at the same time. Every day I had her drink ready. Most days she’d ask me a few questions; other days she was in and out without a word.

Finally, at the end of the month, she came in as usual, but stopped me with a proposal.

“Lucy, would you be interested in working for me?”

I froze in surprise. “Work for you? Doing what?”

“My name is Monica Harper,” she said, pushing her sunglasses back off her face. “I own Harper Media I’m just her assistant.”

“Oh my gosh, it must be so amazing working for her!” The barista leans forward on the counter. “What’s she like?”

“Oh, you know, she’s pretty busy…” I say, glancing at another barista working the bar. It doesn’t look like he’s making Monica’s drink.