4. Chapter Four
Chapter Four
Addie
M y phone dings and a series of events happens: I read the message from Tyler; my eyes bug out of my head; and my phone drops into the soapy sink after my brain short circuits from the information I just read.
This is too good to be true, right? The new, hotshot lawyer must really be something because I was just offered a job making $15,000 more a year, better benefits, and more paid time off. Remind me to never ask life for a sign again. Or maybe I should, if it’s this good? It’s not the promotion I dreamed of, but for a lateral movement, I don’t think I could get better than this.
Quickly fetching my phone from the soapy water, I set it in some rice to get the water out of it. The last thing I need is to waste my savings on a new phone. Everything appears to be working fine, but I’d rather be safe than sorry.
My stool slides against the linoleum floor as I pull up closer to my bar countertop and drag my laptop over. If I have no job inquiries on my LinkedIn page, I will take the offer. I am letting the fates decide.
Ugh, who am I? Unemployment has made me a wild animal. I don’t do shit on a whim. Ever. It makes my skin crawl. However, the situation I'm currently in isn’t feeling so comfy either.
Stretching my neck from side to side, I log in. Why do I feel so freaking nervous?
Probably because my dumbass chose this to be my deciding factor on moving. Ugh, I hate myself sometimes.
I half squint my eyes, not wanting to look at what my gut is already telling me. Yup, I knew before I even opened the stupid thing that there would be no responses. Damn. Two whole weeks, and not a damn click on my profile. My head falls to my laptop with a thunk , and I lie there in my misery. Okay, that’s a bit dramatic.
When in doubt, call Mom. That’s what I should do.
I grab my phone and shake off the remaining rice grains. It probably didn't need that since phones are pretty much waterproof these days, but being jobless, I can’t swing a new phone. No need to risk it for the biscuit.
Her contact photo pulls up and I already feel a little better.
“Hi, honey. What are you up to?”
“I need motherly advice. And I need to tell you a couple of recent life… changes if you will.”
“Well, way to start this conversation off with a heap of anxiety. Go on,” she says.
All my next words come out in a rush. “Well, first things first, I was fired. Well, they called it being ‘laid off.’ Personally, I am calling bullshit.” I hear her humph on the other side. She hates it when I curse, but, a few curse words just add a little spice. “I have had no luck on the job hunting side, except for one offer.”
“Well, was it a good one?”
“It’s a fifteen-thousand dollar raise, with added benefits and time off. So, yes.”
“Um, honey, I know I can be a little obtuse at times, but I am wondering why you sound like you're on the edge of a meltdown? That’s a fantastic job offer. Assuming, the job office isn’t awful, I would say you are crazy to pass it up.” Her logic isn’t wrong.
“I didn’t tell you the downside yet. It’s in Maine. Isla’s brother-in-law offered it to me. He owns the office and is a partner there. So, I would assume it’s a good environment. But that is so far away. And my whole life is here.” Not that I have much of a life here besides my family. I haven’t gone out as much since Isla left. Which, until now, hasn’t bothered me. Slowing down has felt kind of nice.
“What does your gut tell you?”
My mom has always taught us kids to trust our intuition. If someone is giving you the ick, trust it. If something is calling to you, answer. Then, figure the rest out later. I love that about her. Personally, I am much more analytical like my dad. So, I struggle with the concept. But every time I’ve leaned into it, it hasn’t led me wrong. I’m great at telling other people to follow their hearts, but actually listening to my own? Well, I tend to hit ignore when it calls.
“Ugh, I don’t know. What would you do?”
“I think you know. And at your age? I’d go. You’re young; you’ve got plenty of time to make mistakes and smooth them over. You are my most fearless of all my kids. Why is this one scaring you?”
Oof. That question hits right at my sore spot. If I’m being honest with myself, this is probably the conversation I really needed to have with my mom. The job is only part of my issue.
“It feels like I am completely out of control when it comes to my own life. Oh, and my roomie asked me to move out, so she and her boyfriend can live here. Together. Without me, obviously.” Great, now I’m rambling. I really need to get my poop in a group.
Mom’s laugh on the other end of the phone settles my grated nerves. “Honey, it is your life. You are always in control, even when it doesn’t feel like it. You were just…a little redirected by life, and that's okay. Take the turn suggested, and see where it goes.”
“You’re my mom, aren’t you supposed to talk me out of moving far away from you?”
“There is nowhere you can go that I will not find you, sweet girl. While we’re on the subject of honesty, it’s not like you come to visit that much, anyways. And it’s okay. You’re busy living your life. You all not being needy vultures means your dad and I did something right.”
I laugh, but my little brother is absolutely still a needy vulture. She is in denial because he is her baby. But I keep that to myself; it's more fun talking shit about my brother to my brother. He knows I adore him, it's just fun to tease him. It builds character around all the babying he gets from Mom.
“So, what I’m hearing is, you’re giving me your blessing to move far away and start a new life without you.” Maybe if I word it this way, she will say no.
“Yes, that is exactly what I am saying. Go off and spread your wings.”
Well, shit. Looks like I need to call Isla…and some movers.
“Okay. Well then, you’re going to have to come over every day and help me pack up my shit.”
“Language. And that’s fine. It’s not like you have that much stuff, anyways. Isn’t most of it Kelly’s?”
“Yes, it will probably just be my bedroom stuff. I will just sell the furniture that’s mine to Kelly if she wants it. The rest can just be shoved in the Bronco.” Just thinking about driving my baby that far hurts; that's too many miles for her old soul. My dad and I rebuilt the engine and upgraded the interior, so she's practically new, but still. I am going to have to sell my left kidney to put enough gas in her to get across the country.
“Okay. Well, when you officially decide, give me a call. I’ll update your dad.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
I breathe a little easier after we finish our call. Spontaneously moving halfway across the country to live with your best friend is no big deal, right? I’m failing at convincing myself, but I'm giving myself a gold star for trying.
Gathering my thoughts, I do the only logical thing: create a pros and cons list. Visualizing things always helps my brain rationalize my decisions. Some people think it's stupid, but I think it's being diligent. Pulling out a pen and paper, I get to work.
PROS: Closer to Isla. Start over. Maine is pretty. I would have a job and a raise.
CONS: It’s far way from my family.
Tapping my pen on the paper, I stare at my list. Surely, there has to be more than one con on my list, right? I shake off my anxiety by pacing around the house. If I'm being honest, my nerves are more from knowing good and well my happy ass wants to do this. I don't know why I am being a little bitch about it.
Okay. I’m doing this. I’m moving. A bit of a giddy feeling fills my chest. The unknown is begging to excite me. Don’t get me wrong, I love a good, ole routine, but the challenge of mixing things up and having to adapt, that gets my engines firing. Honestly, I think I thrive in chaos. I like making the crazy of a situation my bitch and taming the shift. Call me insane, but I love it.
Grabbing my phone from the countertop, I call Isla. As usual, she picks up on the first couple of rings.
“I’m telling Tyler I’ll take the job.” My eardrum is nearly ruptured from the screaming on the other end of the line.
“Oh. My. God. I am so excited. You have to call him right away. This is perfect!”
“Are you sure Cal is okay with me invading your apartment? You guys are about to get married, and I'm sure you want your space. I will try to start looking for an apartment now.” I better start making a new list of things I should do before moving and what to do when I arrive.
“Dude, it's totally fine. Cal has been working a shit-ton right now, anyways; they just got a big, new contract. So, it will be nice to have some company in the house. And with me no longer having a wedding planner, having you closer will help me a lot.”
“Well, if you insist. Make sure to stock up on the wine.”
“Bold of you to assume I haven't been stocked up. Wedding planning requires a lot of relaxation time. Because I’m ready to throw hands with at least one person a week.”
I can’t help but laugh because Isla doesn’t quite handle stress as well as me. She and I are two peas in a pod with most things, but planning isn’t one of them. Confrontation is also not her thing. I’m sure the wine is more of a filter dropper than anything.
“Double up on your next order. Also, how soon should I be out there? I really don’t have that much stuff.” My eyes sweep over my apartment, and I mentally start calculating how I’m going to pull this off.
“You could show up tomorrow and I would be ready. Once you’re hired, they have to do the whole HR blah, blah boring stuff. And I think Tyler said once you accept your start date, it would be ten-ish days later? I’d have to look at his text again to be sure. You could ask him when you call, too.”
“Yeah, I have to call him and let him know I accept, so I can get all the details then.” The thought adds a little rush through me. Am I really doing this? “So, say if I got rid of all my stuff in the next forty-eight hours, I could hit the road and be on my way to you, and that would be fine?”
“Once again, you could have shown up yesterday and things would have been fine. Worrying ain't your style, babe. Pack your shit and get in the car.”
Well, aright, then.
When your bestie tells you to pack your shit and get on the road, you do just that.