Chapter 4
The plane ride is long and excruciatingly exhausting. Charlee was cranky for the second half of the ride and threw a tantrum, kicking the seat in front of her.
She refused to use the plane bathroom when she had to go because she didn’t understand where everything went when you flush. I had to ask a flight
attendant to explain how an airplane toilet works to my four-year-old.
I had never been so happy to step foot in JFK airport in my entire life. I pick Charlee up and walk her outside when we collect our things from baggage claim. My
mom is supposed to be waiting for us, but I have no clue where to find her in the circus that is a New York City airport.
What I wouldn’t give for a quiet spa day right now.
“Rayne! Charlee!” I hear a voice behind us.
Charlee wiggles out of my arms and takes off running before I can even turn around.
“Grandma!” she yells, jumping into my mother’s arms.
I pick up our bags and make my way over to them. Thankfully, my mom has Charlee wrapped in her arms, so I don’t have to worry about carrying her out.
“Hi, Mom,” I say before I lean in and kiss her on the cheek.
She looks me up and down, and I flash her a tired smile. “You look like crap. Let’s get you two out of here.”
I laugh at her, knowing she is joking but also probably telling a little bit of the truth. “Thanks, Mom, I get it from you.”
She stops walking and kicks my butt when I’m in front of her. Charlee laughs, and I sigh, knowing she will try that as soon as she’s free from my mom’s grasp.
We get to her car, and I panic for a second, realizing I never asked her to set up a car seat for Charlee, but when I open the door, I see that she already did. I
don’t know what I had been expecting. She was a super mom when I was a kid.
“Can we please get something to eat?” I ask when we all buckle in.
We head to a McDonald’s and order breakfast. There isn’t enough coffee in the world to wake me up after the nightmare flight. We let Charlee run to the
playhouse and get some of her pent-up energy out.
“I’m thrilled you finally decided to come home,” my mom says after Charlee is out of earshot. “I wish it were under better circumstances. But you made the right
choice.”
“I’m glad too,” I say in a somber voice. “I just hope being away from Reece so much won’t be hard on Charlee.”
“It won’t be easy,” she replies. I roll my eyes at her, and she nods her head to reinforce it. “Remember how you acted in high school? I hope for your sake it isn’t
anything like that.”
“At least I had a good ten years to prepare for that.”
“I can’t tell you how sorry I am to see you going through the same things I had to,” my mom says in an exhausted voice. “But seeing you come out of it the way
you have makes me proud. When you first told me about his drinking, I prayed for you every night. I prayed you would make the best decision for Charlee, and
did.” She reaches across the plastic table and squeezes my hand. I might never have left if I hadn’t had her to talk to when everything was bad with Reece. I
can’t express how grateful I am to have her in my life.
“How are you doing with everything?” I ask her after a moment.
Her husband, my stepfather, Greg, passed away a few months ago,
and I know it has been hard on her. Not long after he passed, things started going south with Reece and me, and my mom jumped in to help me figure
everything out.
“I’ll just be happy to have laughter in the house again,” she says with a smile. Tears well in her eyes, and I squeeze her hands tighter.
“We’re happy to be here.”
Charlee comes back up to us with a toy she found in the playhouse, asking if she can keep it. I nod my head and grab it from her so that I can clean it before she
introduces it to the rest of her toys. God only knows who had it before, and she loves putting things in her mouth.
We get back in the car to make the drive to Queens. The last time I visited the city was for Greg’s funeral, but Charlee has never been to Queens. I point out
various places from my childhood memories while we drive.
My phone buzzes, and I quickly turn the radio off and ask everyone in the car to be quiet while I take it. The call is from a job recruiting agency. I sent my resume
a few days ago.
“Rayne Stevens,” I answer in my friendliest voice.
“Hi, Mrs. Stevens, this is Georgia from Atlantic Staffing Solutions. I’m calling because we have your resume and a job just crossed my desk that I think you
would be perfect for,” the recruiter says in one long breath.
“Thank you for considering me. Might I ask what the opportunity is?”
“I am not allowed to say who it’s for, but you would be a personal assistant. Job duties would be things like managing your employer’s schedules, keeping track
of meetings and documents, and booking travel arrangements. All things I see you’ve done in the past when you worked with Leia Halloway,” she notes.
“Yes, I have plenty of experience with that,” I say, making a considerable effort not to let her know how exhausted I am by the tone of my voice.
“This position is urgently hiring. Would you be able to interview for it tomorrow?” she asks me.
“Yes, I should be able to make that work,” I reply, a smile growing on my face. “I’d be free in the late morning if you want to send me a meeting time and the
details.” We hang up the phone, and my mother looks at me with a smile on her face. “Look at you! You’ve been in New York for an hour, and you already have a
job,” she says, cheering me on. Charlee joins in on the cheers, and I motion with my hands for them to both calm down.
“It’s just an interview, you guys. Let’s not get too excited.