Chapter Eighteen ~ Fiona
Mila and I take charge of cleaning up after dinner while everyone else heads for the living room. Nobody seems to be in a hurry to head out for the night, which has always been the case with Mum’s gatherings. Her knack for creating a welcoming, cozy environment means nobody ever wants to leave.
A small voice in the back of my mind points out what a good thing that is.
When I return to London, Mum will never be on her own for long.
She’ll never want for company. She’ll host parties like tonight and have intimate gatherings with the people she loves most. It won’t be the same as before—nothing will ever be the same—but she said herself that this is her life now and she’ll learn to adjust.
By nine o’clock, it’s just Mum, Nathan, Mila, and me left. I’m half listening to Mum and Nathan talk about some upcoming town event, although my attention keeps drifting back to my best friend, who’s sneaking glances at her phone.
Mila gives me a sheepish smile when she catches me looking. “Can we go out to the treehouse?” she whispers.
I glance at Mum, surprised to find her looking between Mila and me with a smile that can only be described as indulgent. “You girls go ahead. Nathan and I are going to have another glass of whiskey and play a game of cards.”
Nathan gives a small nod when my gaze slides to him. “Mae owes me a rematch from our last game of UNO. Who doesn’t want their ass handed to them on their birthday?”
I let Mila pull me to my feet, our hands remaining linked as we make our way through the house and outside to the treehouse. We turn on the small space heater, along with all the fairy lights, and then snuggle into the beanbag chair together with a blanket draped over us.
“I want to show you something,” Mila says, pulling her phone from her pocket.
She opens the BeSocial app and scrolls to her latest post, a photo she took of the two of us after we got ready for Nathan’s party.
The caption reads: Reunited, and it feels so good!
Consider this my Out of Office as I spend some time catching up with my BFF.
Stay tuned for posts featuring small-town shenanigans. Prepare to get sick of our faces!
“Now look at the comments,” Mila says, handing me the phone.
My eyebrows wing up as I notice the post already has over a thousand likes and nearly two hundred comments. An uncontrollable smile takes over my face as I scan the comments, stopping to read the ones from familiar usernames.
@maris_loves_paris: The dynamic duo is back together! We could never get sick of your faces. ALL the Mila and Fiona content, please!
@travelling_canadian90: I miss you two! Hoping to see you both in Europe this summer!
@theedinburghroamer: How can I ensure that I get on a tour with one (or both) of you as the guides?
@topsyturvytravels: The two of you need to host a retreat of some sort. Maybe a big reunion for people who have taken your tours in the past?
@read.travel.repeat: I’ve taken dozens of tours over the years, and you two are hands down my favourite guides ever. I’ll never forget the time I spent with you, and I’m ever hopeful our paths will cross again. Sending you both lots of love from sunny Portugal.
“I didn’t mean to make you cry,” Mila says, putting her arm around me.
I hadn’t even realized I was crying, but now I feel the tears on my face, along with a tingling in the back of my nose.
“Anything and everything sets me off these days,” I say with a self-deprecating laugh.
“This is just…really nice. I’ve never felt like our job was frivolous, but I’m sure you’ve heard your share of comments from people that make it clear they feel that way. ”
“That’s hardly a real job,” she says in a high-pitched voice that makes me laugh again.
“Must be nice to travel for a living and have such an easy job.” She scoffs and drops the mocking tone.
“As if being responsible for two dozen human beings, having to constantly think on your feet, make snap decisions, and problem solve are easy. Not to mention having a head full of history, trivia, and recommendations for dozens of cities.”
“Exactly! Sometimes I forget how much of an impact we can have on people’s lives, but then I see comments like this…
” I reread the last comment before handing Mila’s phone back to her.
“I’ll never forget the tour guide who made me want to become a guide myself.
I’d spent months winging it on my own across Europe, with a few day tours thrown in, and then a friend I made in France convinced me to do a tour of England.
“The guide’s name was Dani; she was this pretty, peppy Australian that I connected with from the first night.
I was amazed by how knowledgeable she was, how positive she remained in the face of obstacles, and how she wrangled all of us over the course of two weeks.
She let me pick her brain one night in a pub in London, and it was that conversation that made me realize I wanted to work in the travel industry and not just be a tourist. I started looking into schools that night. ”
“And the rest, as they say, is history.” Mila flashes me a grin before dropping her head onto my shoulder. “We really are lucky to be doing this for a living. I never take it for granted, and I know you don’t either.”
“Never,” I agree. “Which leads me to the question we’ve been avoiding…” I tip to the side, guiding her back into an upright position so we can see each other. “Why are you here, Mila?”
She groans. “We’ve had such a nice day, and I don’t want to ruin it.”
My stomach sinks. “That bad?”
“I mean…yes and no?” She sighs. “You’ve missed a lot since you were suspended.
You told me you hadn’t heard from anyone in the company since you’ve been home, and I’m guessing that hasn’t changed?
” At my head shake, she says, “So you don’t know that Sanjay was promoted to a management position, or that he instated a number of changes. ”
I take a moment to process this. “Changes like…?”
“Well, one of the first things he did was fuck with my schedule and take me off Central European tours for the summer.”
“But those are your specialty!” I cry, as if she’s not already well aware.
Mila is known for those tours, the way I’m known for tours of the UK, France, and Italy.
When guides start out with On the Go, they have to take whatever tours they’re offered, but eventually, they get to make their preferences known.
Those of us who have worked for the company for a long time get first dibs, and Mila’s top choice is Central Europe since her family lives in Czechia and Poland, and those tours are some of her only opportunities to see them.
She shoots me a sardonic look. “He also cut back my tours for the summer, which will have a huge impact on my income.”
“How can he do that?” I ask.
She gives a helpless shrug. “One of the new rules he instated was that they can change a guide’s scheduled tours at any time, as long as it’s thirty days before the start date.
He changed all of my summer tours, Fi. All of them.
He made changes to a few other guides’ schedules, but nothing like mine, so it was obviously personal. ”
“Unbelievable,” I mutter, unable to think of anything else to say past the anger and disgust surging in my chest.
“It was too much fuckery for me,” Mila says.
“Your suspension, management’s avoidance, Sanjay’s bullshit decision to rearrange my entire schedule.
I couldn’t take it. I got Carlotta to cover my next tour, and I immediately booked a flight to Toronto without giving myself a chance to think too much.
I wanted to get away from anything having to do with On the Go, plus I’ve been feeling so guilty for not being here for you since your dad died—”
“Hey,” I say, cutting her off. “You have nothing to feel guilty about. You’re an amazing friend, and I’ve known all along that you’d be here if you could. That’s the nature of the job. I know that better than anyone.”
“Still…” She sighs again. “As messed up as it is, I’m glad to have a reason to be here now.
My thoughts have been so muddled these last few weeks, but as soon as I arrived in Honeywell, it was like the voices in my head went from a cacophony to a dull roar.
I just keep thinking that if this is how things are going to be at On the Go from now on—if we have to answer to a slimy, power-hungry asshole like Sanjay—I’m not sure I want to work for them anymore. ”
Her admission stirs a secret part of me that’s been feeling the same way ever since my grossly unfair suspension. Despite agreeing this isn’t an easy job, it’s always been a fun job, and having someone in charge who’s ruled by personal vendettas isn’t something I want any part of.
“You know what this means, right?” Mila asks. When I give her a quizzical look, she bumps her shoulder against mine, a tiny smile twitching at the corners of her mouth before growing into a wide grin. “It’s time for us to finally start our own travel business.”
Butterflies take flight in my stomach. I tamp them down, along with the small sound of excitement that tries to escape past my lips.
Despite what I’d call a full-body ‘yes!’, my brain takes over with caution and logic.
“Is that realistic, though? Really? There are so many well-established tour companies out there.”
“True, but you and I are well-established tour guides. We’re well-known and respected in the business.
People are always coming to us for travel advice and tips, plus we get asked to plan trips all the time.
This would obviously be on a much larger scale, but we have a strong foundation to build on.
Not to mention we have a combined total of nearly a quarter of a million social media followers. ”