Chapter 38
THIRTY-EIGHT
The Tuesday after Labor Day, I wake with a pit in my stomach.
I ignore it throughout the day, going to work with a smile and pretending I’m not an absolute nervous wreck.
Graham notices, obviously, and takes me out to lunch, trying to distract me, but it doesn’t help, not really.
The girls text me a few times throughout the day, asking how I’m feeling, telling me they know I’m going to do great, and asking whether I want them to meet me outside City Hall or just go in when they arrive.
Today is the big day for the presentation.
At quarter to six, I arrive at City Hall, driven by Graham because there was no way I would be able to drive myself, and walking in the late summer humidity would have had me stressing about my hair.
At the end of today’s City Council meeting, which starts at six, Cece and I will present our proposals.
While I know my proposal is solid and I’ve practiced my presentation so many times, in front of so many different people, I could probably do it in my sleep, I can’t seem to stop total and utter panic from creeping in.
And now, sitting in the car in our super close parking spot outside of City Hall—something Graham proclaimed to be lucky—I am rethinking every life choice I’ve ever made that led me here.
“Ready to go in?’ Graham asks, shutting the car off and turning to face me. I stare at the building, lightheaded. After a moment, he speaks again, concern lacing the word. “June?”
My head snaps to him. “Let’s go home.”
“Home?”
“Yeah. Mine, yours, whatever. Let’s go. Just…let’s go. Turn the car back on.”
I reach for the keys in his hand as if I’m going to start the car and force him to drive off, but he moves them out of my reach, a small smile tipping his lips.
Stupid fucking dimples. Why did I work so hard to see them? I don’t need their handsomeness when I’m having a full-blown panic attack.
“We’re not leaving.”
“Well, I’m not going in,” I say, knowing I sound childish but beyond caring as I cross my arms on my chest. Instead of looking entertained, his face shifts, looking concerned.
“June, baby, what’s going on?” His hand reaches for mine, twining out fingers and pulling me a bit toward him. The charms on my bracelet make a pretty sound, and it eases something in my chest just enough to speak.
“I can’t do it!” I say, shaking my head. “I can’t go in there. I’m going to make a fool of myself. I’m unqualified. I have no idea what I’m doing, and I’m going to just…ask them to give me thousands of dollars? What was I thinking?”
“You were thinking that you’re the only one who loves this place enough to create a mural to adequately represent Seaside Point.
You were thinking you’re talented and an amazing artist and that by being the one chosen to do this mural, you’ll be continuing your grandmother’s legacy in a way you can feel proud of. ”
A lump grows in my throat with his soft, steady words.
“Well, past me was an idiot, and current me is a realist who wants to go home.”
He lets out a small laugh, shaking his head. “What happened to the June I fell for, the one with boundless confidence?”
My chest lightens just a bit with his words, but it’s swallowed when another wave of reality comes crushing in.
“She was delusional! She thought she could manifest her way into the life of her dreams! She thought she was lucky, but it was really just you!”
His face goes serious then, and he lets go of my hand before undoing my seatbelt, then using his strong grip to turn me in my seat toward him. Then he grabs my face, pulling me close and pressing his forehead to mine.
“No. You don’t get it. Or you do, but you’re too nervous right now to admit it.
You were right. You are lucky. You’re lucky because we make our own luck, June.
You want to live a life that makes you feel happy and fulfilled every single moment, and you made it happen.
You helped me realize that, helped me find my own luck, my own happiness.
Now it’s your turn.” My throat tightens with his words, and I sniff.
“You can’t make me emotional when I’m already mid-freakout, Graham. It’s poor boyfriend behavior.”
He smiles then, leaning in and pressing my lips to his.
“Sorry, I told you; I’m new at this. How am I doing on the pep-talk side of things?”
The joking and banter ease my nerves in a way I don’t think anything else could, and I realize that’s the true stroke of luck: having Graham when I need him most, and more importantly, him knowing exactly what I need.
“Pretty good,” I grumble.
“You sound disappointed in that,” he says with a laugh, and I can’t help but return it, even if it’s weak.
I take in a deep breath, knowing the truth in his words because he’s right: I am lucky.
Finding Graham was lucky. Finding someone who would do absolutely anything to make my every whim a reality was beyond lucky.
Getting laid off was lucky, and winning that scratch-off was lucky.
Walking into Daytrip that day was lucky, even if getting the job was all Graham.
Being talented isn’t lucky; it’s genetics and innate skill, something I’m still trying to remind myself of daily, but having friends who pushed me to take a scary leap? Lucky as can be.
There are a million different lucky moments that led me to this one, and with that reminder, I nod, take in a deep breath, and smile at Graham.
“I am, mostly because it means you’re right. I’ve gotta do this, and I’m going to kick ass when I do. Now let’s go before I lose my nerve.”
He grins but doesn’t say anything. Instead, he leans in to kiss me, whispers, stay there, then walks around the car to help me out before we walk hand in hand into City Hall.
That confidence lasts for another thirty minutes, until about ten minutes into the meeting, when I need to step out for some fresh air and calm my rising nerves.
“I’ll be right back,” I murmur, then start to stand from where we’re sitting along the side of the room.
Graham looks to me, a bit confused, but I give him as confident a smile as I can muster.
“Bathroom.” He isn’t buying it, but nods all the same, squeezing my hand.
Claire catches my eye as I step away and mouths a question, asking if I want her to come, but I shake my head.
I just need air, space, and a bit of alone time to panic.
But this is Seaside Point, so I should have known I wouldn’t get it.
“Hey, June bug,” a familiar voice says as I pace the hall outside the city council meeting.
“Oh, hey,” I say with a sigh as the door closes behind my brother. “I was just… getting some air. I can only listen to them arguing about things for so long.” Grant doesn’t buy it, but nods just the same, walking over to me with his hands in his pockets.
“How do you feel?”
“Like I’m gonna barf,” I say, and Grant laughs, shaking his head.
“You’re gonna do great. You’re going to get this job, June. Trust me. I know these things.” I bite my lip, looking away, then deciding that maybe one more thing off my chest would help.
“Even if I don’t get this, I’m not going back to teaching.
” I bite my lip, taking in a deep breath before confessing what I did this morning.
“I already sent Mrs. Jones an email, telling her as much.” She replied near instantly, seeming relieved and telling me Mrs. Evans was planning on delaying her retirement, so all’s well that ends well, I suppose.
I guess it really was the universe guiding me along after all. If there was even a shot that my job wouldn’t be there next fall, I never would have taken a leave. But god, I’m so glad I did. Even if in this moment, it means my stomach is completely tied up in knots.
Grant nods, but doesn’t speak, and I try to fill in the silence.
“I know you’re disappointed—” I start, but his brows furrow, confused, before he finally speaks.
“Disappointed? Why would I be disappointed?”
I blink at him, unsure. “Because I’m turning into Mom. Because I’m chasing art instead of something practical. Because—”
He shakes his head, quickly stopping me in my tracks. “June bug, I would never think that.”
“You wouldn’t?” He takes a step closer to me, concern on his face.
“You’re not Mom, June. And not for nothing, Graham isn’t Dad.
” Well, that much is true. The mere idea makes a small smile spread on my lips, and his own tip up as well.
“What I mean is, you’re responsible. You didn’t jump from teaching to art in a heartbeat.
” I lift an eyebrow, and he laughs, his own sounding freer than mine.
“Okay, well, you kind of did, but you had a backup to your backup. And pretty soon, you found a job, made your life stable, and then built an art career from the sidelines. And that was after years of hemming and hawing, planning to do just that. You also didn’t quit your job and move to Paris the moment you sold a single painting.
Did you really think I would be disappointed if you didn’t go back to teaching?
” I shrug, picking at the nails I painted last night, summer sky blue, Graham’s favorite color.
“You sacrificed a lot for me, and I’ll always be grateful for that. You could have gone away to school, could have left mom and dad’s house long before I was able to, but you stayed in Seaside Point to keep an eye on me. I know that.”
Something crosses his face, and I wonder if he thinks I didn’t know that, if he thought I was living blissfully unaware.
But instead, he shocks me.
“June, I was never going to go to a traditional college. I was always going to head into some kind of trade.” I blink at him, confused.
“You may have gotten the creativity gene, but I got the working with my hands part of it and the resistance to authority. Do you really think I could have been wearing a tie and listening to some asshole tell me a report was due at ten?”