Chapter Three #2
“Mm. Well, that’s good,” Lisa said casually.
She blew on her mug before fixing her eyes on her younger sister, this time with a more serious look.
“Cee, I haven’t pressed you because I know you’re going through it, but what’s good with these loan payments, sis?
I got three emails about missed payments. ”
Cierra froze in place and stared at her sister, ashamed and unequipped to answer with a viable solution. Lisa had only cautiously agreed to co-sign on Cierra’s culinary school loans, and Cierra had barely been making the payments with her salary at Terra. And that was with Harry’s subsidies.
“I, um, I don’t know.” God, this is awful. “Look, once I get a new job, I’ll be fine.”
“And in the meantime? This is serious stuff, Cee. I need you to be honest with me.”
Cierra put a zucchini down and buried her head in her hands, her wild ponytail flowing onto some of the fridge contents on the counter.
“When I quit Terra, I didn’t have anything lined up .
. . Shit, Harry was so right.” She looked up at her sister with tears in her eyes.
“My savings are gone. I don’t have any offers yet.
Well, none that wouldn’t be even worse than Terra.
Until I get a job, I don’t know how I’m gonna make these payments. ”
Lisa frowned and got up from the bar stool. She awkwardly rubbed a hand across Cierra’s upper back, like a baseball coach consoling the star player after a devastating loss.
“Listen, Jess and I can help out for a couple months, okay? But we already have Mom to deal with, and . . .” She shook her head, not finishing her thought.
“I know you have big dreams and you like your life in New York, but this just doesn’t feel sustainable.
If you moved back home, you could save up, maybe—”
“Lisa, you know I can’t do that.”
“Can’t? Or won’t?” There was a static pause, the conversation teetering dangerously close toward argument levels.
“All I’m saying is, you need to be honest with yourself, because you might not have a choice.
Look, I was happy to move back and help with Mom.
But I can’t keep picking up the slack because you wanna chase whatever career fantasies you have, alright? ”
Cierra rubbed her fingers self-consciously. Her sister was right, even though she resented having it thrown in her face.
Lisa sighed. “I’m only covering until June. That’s it.”
“Okay. Thank you,” Cierra said, humiliated but grateful at the same time. Lisa’s income had been a real asset to the family. Still, it wasn’t like Lisa’s resources were limitless, and Cierra didn’t want to take advantage of her.
“So,” Lisa started, graciously changing the subject, “what really happened with Harry?”
Lisa, a highly successful divorce lawyer, wasn’t the best at pleasantries or easing people in. It could be a turnoff to people first meeting her, but to Cierra it was second nature, and if anything, she liked the directness. There was never any reading between the lines with Lisa.
“Did you finally realize you were just together out of comfort? Or did he cheat on you?”
“Jesus,” Cierra said and backed up a little from the kitchen island countertop. “Anyone ever tell you that you have no bedside manners? No, Lisa, he didn’t cheat on me.”
“Oh, my . . . did you cheat on him? Bad girl.”
Cierra glared at her sister, completely unamused. “We got into a stupid fight about my career. One thing led to another, and we decided it was best if we parted ways.”
“Oof, that’s tough,” Lisa said thoughtfully, while munching on a raw piece of cabbage. “Getting dumped sucks. I’m sorry, girl.”
“I didn’t get dumped. He just brought up the accurate point that we were growing apart, and I agreed.” As the words came out, she realized just how delusional she sounded and welled up at her older sister’s look of pity. Cierra felt like one of her heartbroken clients.
Lisa reached out and patted Cierra’s hand with her perfect baby-pink gel manicure. With every pat, a gentle rattle escaped from her Rolex. “Screw him. If he wants to end it, let it be. Sometimes rejection is God’s protection.”
Cierra rolled her eyes. “Thanks.”
“Besides, I feel like this breakup is a blessing in disguise.”
Cierra lifted her head. “And why is that?” she asked cynically.
“After Dad died, and things finally ended with that guy you chased after to New York, it’s like the very next day you were with Harry.”
Why does everyone keep saying that?
As if reading her sister’s thoughts, Lisa exhaled, continuing in a measured, gentle tone.
“Cee, just try to think of this as an opportunity. This is your chance to explore. Half of my income comes from couples who married each other too young, only to find they’ve matured into opposites.
You didn’t even know how to style your hair at twenty-four.
No one’s gonna blame you if your second adult relationship wasn’t the love of your life. ”
God, Lisa was good. Whenever she laid out a thought, it was like it had been there all along. Cierra always felt like Lisa was the smarter sibling. And while it was a continuous source of jealousy, at that moment, Cierra was grateful for her perspective.
The headline of Single woman explores her passions in love and career had a much better ring to it than Single thirty-year-old is unemployed and freshly dumped.
The rest of the weekend trip with her family left Cierra feeling less frazzled and more prepared to tackle her apartment and job search.
And as she boarded the train back to reality, she thought about the hundreds of mind-numbing decisions that lay before her.
Mia had texted about a mutual friend’s party next weekend — should she still go?
Would she die of humiliation if she saw Harry there?
Did her old coworkers think she was crazy? Where was she going to live?
She took a window seat on the west side of the car, which overlooked an expansive cool blue river, flanked by a white-gray sky and barren forest. She sighed. Maybe she should’ve stayed another day.
New York City is a vicious place. Even the rats are at war with each other (true story).
But perhaps one of the most heartless features of the city comes with the cost of a breakup.
Not the collateral damage, like losing friends or the torment of heartbreak.
The actual dollar cost. During the most emotionally volatile hours of someone’s life, those experiencing a breakup must also pay for and deal with movers, lease termination, irate landlords, and heaven forbid, dividing up the furniture or deciding who takes the dog.
And that’s before the apartment hunt even begins.
Once back in New York, she walked through Grand Central with the same vigor one might walk through a grocery store parking lot, before hopping on a subway ride to her place.
But when she got back to the apartment, she noticed that the bar stools and the TV were gone.
It’s not like she had particularly liked either.
The stools were a basic silver metal frame with backless, circular black leather seats that were uncomfortable and looked like the kind you might see in a diner.
She barely watched TV. But Harry had bought them, and technically that meant he had the right to do whatever he wanted with them.
And this unnerved her — just another reminder of how little in her life had been, well, hers.
She thought back to her sparse bank account and cringed.
No, not just her bank account. Everything.
Had she really been that dependent on him this whole time?
Cierra plopped her luggage down in the bedroom, which had always been a little too white for her taste.
Harry preferred the “minimalist” look, which really just translated to a lack of color.
They had compromised on the bedspread, which was also white, but had little pale-yellow tassels at the end.
Other than that, the entire room looked like something out of the most boring Scandinavian catalog you could think of.
Light wood, white dressers, a white floor lamp, framed white prints with “modern” black lines resembling trees and other meaningless, non-offensive shapes.
Cierra went over to one of the prints, a black stick figure on a white background.
She studied the stupid little drawing, took it off the wall, and then suddenly hurled the framed print across the room.
The sound of the glass shattering across the wooden floor was satisfying, but it wasn’t enough. Cierra was feral.
She stalked over to the other side of the room and tore the frame apart. Smiling, she then ripped the paper print inside into little shreds. I never liked that stupid fucking picture, she thought and grinned devilishly to herself.
Surveying her handiwork, she inhaled and exhaled deeply.
A wave of energy came over her, as if releasing her from a minimalist-induced slump.
But she couldn’t go around the apartment breaking everything — that would be crazy.
Pulling herself together, she headed to the living room to do what she had intended to do for the rest of the day — look for jobs and apartments.
But it would be hard to get an apartment without a job.
Did brokers actually check the references listed?
While taking out her laptop, she looked again at the grayish blue couch, glass table, and empty walls. This place looked like a nondescript hotel, not the home of a loving couple.
Cierra snapped her laptop shut and shoved it back in her bag. She put on her puffer coat and decided a cafe would be a better fit. Or maybe even somewhere cozier, where she could drink as many cappuccinos as she wanted and borrow a matching cashmere PJ set.
Instinctively, Cierra checked Mia’s location and then sent her a message.