Chapter 7
CHAPTER SEVEN
ALLIE
There’s been little joy in the last year of my life, and zero laughter. I’ve been metaphorically soaking in despair, and I’m tired of it. Even though I don’t know what the future holds, I do know that I’m ready to feel alive again.
Rolling over in bed, I look at the clock. I didn’t sleep well last night so I’m not surprised to see that it’s an hour past my normal wake-up time. I only have forty minutes to get dressed and get to work.
Throwing my legs over the side of the bed, I sit up and look around my old bedroom like I’ve never seen it before. With renewed determination, I stand up and walk into the bathroom knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt that it’s time for me to move out of my parents’ house.
After taking a quick shower, I pull my hair back into a serviceable ponytail. I used to spend a lot of time and money on haircuts and blowouts, but ever since Brett left, I consider it a win if I run a brush through it once a day.
I normally wear jeans and a t-shirt to work, but today I put on a pair of khakis and a sweater. I don’t exactly look like the height of fashion, but I’m pretty sure I look good enough to be an English teacher. I’m going to stop at Elk Lake High after work and try to convince Mr. Cooke of that.
Happily, my parents have both started their day and neither is lingering around the kitchen.
My dad is probably already on the golf course, and my mom is most likely meeting friends for coffee before taking her standard three-mile walk through town.
She claims the latter is for exercise, but I’m more inclined to think she does it to keep an eye on the goings on of Elk Lake.
My mom likes to be kept in the loop and while not exactly the town gossip, she is always very well informed.
Instead of making coffee at home, I get into my car and go right into work. I arrive ten minutes early. Walking into the front of the shop, I notice the early rush has already come and gone—except for a few tables in the process of finishing up.
Faith looks up from the cash register and smiles. “Good morning! You look nice today.”
It’s a commentary about how bad I normally look for her to suggest such a thing. “Thanks,” I tell her while strapping on my apron and taking over the counter. Once my boss walks into the kitchen, I start to reflect on recent events.
When I lived in Madison and worked at the publishing house, I was filled with anticipation over new books that I got to read and acquire for publication.
I plotted and planned releases, and I encouraged authors to be the best storytellers they could be.
My life had meaning, even outside of my desire to become a mother.
I have not had that sensation since coming back to Elk Lake. Which is no one’s fault but my own. I moved in with my parents. I took the job at the bakery. But in one hour last night, I realized I’m done holding my finger on the pause button. I’m ready to take on a new challenge.
I don’t need someone to share my life with to feel like I’m alive again.
In fact, I’m still on the fence regarding the whole institution of marriage and how I fit into such a scheme.
But I do want to make a difference. I want to feel like I’m helping people beyond facilitating their morning caffeine buzz.
And honestly, who needs my help more than kids do?
I may have formed something of a grudge against babies—due to my lack of being able to have one. But high school kids are far enough away from infancy that they’re safe from my resentment.
After months of heaviness, I practically skipped home from the high school last night. Noah offered me a ride, but I didn’t want to share my bubbling sensation of purpose with anyone else. I wanted to keep it all to myself, like a newly found treasure.
When I walked through the front door, my parents were sitting in the living room.
As per their nightly routine, Dad was drinking decaf coffee while my mom sipped on a soda.
Historically, they use their evenings to chat about their day, which has become a little bit boring to witness as they now spend most of their days together.
My mom stared at me like I was an apparition who just walked through the wall. “I didn’t realize you were out. I thought you were upstairs.”
“I went for a walk.”
My dad grunted, “You sure do walk a lot. Don’t you get bored with all that walking?”
“It helps me think.”
“Are you thinking about anything interesting?”
I hadn’t planned to tell them anything until I knew for sure I wanted the teaching job at the high school, but I found myself blurting out, “I’m thinking about quitting Rosemary’s.”
“Thank God!” My mom jumped to her feet in obvious excitement. “Are you moving back to Madison to get on with your life?”
I always thought mothers wanted their kids to stay close, but mine doesn’t seem to be wired the same way.
It’s not that she doesn’t enjoy seeing me, it’s just that in her mind there’s no future for me in Elk Lake without a husband.
And the kind of man she sees me with is someone who has a profession that requires living in a bigger city.
I shook my head. “Not yet.”
“Then what in the world are you going to do? Please don’t tell me you’re going to sit around all day and feel sorry for yourself.”
“Margaret …” my dad practically hissed, his tone heavy with warning. Unlike my mom, he’d be happy if I stayed home forever. I’ve always been a daddy’s girl, and I suspect I always will be.
“What?” my mom demanded. “I’ve been supportive of Allie. I’m just trying to encourage her to move on.”
“And I appreciate that, Mom. I really do.” It didn’t seem prudent to tell her that her form of encouragement was about as pleasant as getting a tooth filled without proper numbing. “I’m thinking about taking a substitute teaching job at the high school.”
“You’re what?!” As offensive as it is, my mother has always subscribed to the old saying that people who can, do, and people who can’t, teach.
“They need an English teacher and a girls’ basketball coach,” I told them. “I just came from basketball practice.”
“Good for you, honey.” At least my dad sounded sincere.
“A teacher?” My mom started to pace across the room with the determination of an Olympic sprinter on the cusp of setting a world record. “You’ve never said anything about wanting to teach.” She acted like I just told her I was going to become a pole dancer at a strip club.
“I’ve been experiencing a lot of things that I never thought about before. Life has a way of taking you places you never thought you’d see.”
“Move to Chicago!” she declared. “Or how about New York City? That’s the place to go for publishing.”
I walked over to her and took her hands to force her to stop moving. “I’m going to meet with Mr. Cooke tomorrow and if he offers me the job I’m going to take it. It’s only a substitute job, so I’m not declaring a lifelong change of career, just a temporary one.”
She looked relieved and worried at the same time. “But teaching?”
“Why not?” I asked.
“How will you meet any eligible men at a high school? They’re all children there.”
Noah’s face immediately popped into my head, and I forced it out again. My mother is a one-woman band regarding my social life.
Faith returns from the kitchen and forces my attention back to the present. “You look like you’re a thousand miles away,” she says. “Anything you want to talk about?”
I surprise myself by blurting out, “I need to give my notice.” And even though I don’t have the teaching job, I realize my time at Rosemary’s is over.
“What? No!” My boss seems truly sad. “Are you leaving Elk Lake?”
“I’m applying for a job at the high school. They need an English teacher.”
Faith’s energy suddenly shifts. “Good for you!”
Picking up a cloth to wipe the already-clean counter, I tell her, “I don’t have the job yet, but I think it’s the perfect next step for me.”
“Then you’re sure to get it,” she tells me. “And we’ll always be here if you want to pick up any shifts.”
I stop my busy work and look at my new friend closely. “I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, Faith. You and Rosemary’s have been lifelines.”
I can tell she’s touched by the sentiment because she looks like she’s going to start crying. “Are you going to stay at your parents’?” she wants to know.
“Funny you should ask,” I tell her. “I’ve actually decided that I need a break from my mother. As soon as I know I’ve got steady work, I’m going to look for an apartment.”
Her eyes pop open wide as her expression brightens. “The tenant in the apartment upstairs gave notice last week. He got a job in Chicago, and he leaves tomorrow. You should take it!”
Even though my confidence has wavered in the last year, I’ve always believed that the universe provides. That certainly seems to be what’s happening now. “I’d love to see it,” I say.
“I’ll show it to you tomorrow. You just let me know when.”
Shifting from foot to foot, I tell Faith, “I’m going in to meet with Mr. Cooke this afternoon. How much notice do you need me to give?”
With a wave of her hand she replies, “Today can be your last day, if you want. Things slow down in the fall when all the tourists leave, so we can make do.”
My eyes suddenly well up with unshed tears.
There are people in this world that my grandmother always referred to as “the helpers.” Faith is that person for me.
She gave me a job when I needed one; she’s letting me out of that same job with no notice; and now she’s providing a place for me to call my own, even if it is temporary.
“Thank you, Faith,” I tell her sincerely. “I will always think of you as a friend.”
“That sounds so final. We are friends, and with you living right upstairs, I plan on seeing you all the time. Promise me!”
“I promise.” I feel a definite shift happening in my life and I love it. It’s been a long time since I’ve been able to think of my future, and even though I don’t know what it holds, I do know that I’m ready to start moving forward again.