Holding on to Someday Read online
Page 7
“It’s okay. I’ll grab something quick and head back up here. I need to check my email anyway and get the final edits set now that Mr. McDowell called me back. Enjoy your lunch. The weather is very nice out today,” I tell her as I start walking down the hall toward the elevator.
The Corner Café is like its name, just around the corner, and it's one of my favorite spots to eat. I like to sit at the pub tables by the window and watch the crowds of people passing by. I relocated to Charlotte not long after I started working for ECM Corp. They began branching out and opening new offices all over the East Coast. When the Charlotte position opened up, I quickly grabbed the opportunity because I had missed North Carolina much more than I thought I would.
I ran into a college acquaintance not long after I moved here. He played football with Drew and told me he heard through the grapevine that Drew moved to China right after college. Digging for more information while trying to pretend I was neutral about it, I got nothing else out of him. I guess that’s as much closure as I will get about Drew Cason.
I’ve been here for over ten years now, and I love it. I work in uptown Charlotte where the crowds are busy, and plenty of people watching is available. It reminds me a lot of home, but you can also drive 15 minutes out of town and feel like you are in the middle of the country. One of the things I like best about North Carolina is you have the beach, the foothills, and the mountains.
As I sit in my usual corner at the café and watch the hustle and bustle move by the window, I wonder when this lifestyle will get old. I feel like the Charlotte Douglas Airport is my home away from home. I’ve probably spent more time on airplanes than I have in my own home. One day I think I’d like to have an 8 to 5 job, maybe in the Bank of America building, way up high where I can sit at my desk and look out over the Queen City. Then, at the end of the day, I can call it quits and go home to lay on my couch, watch TV for the rest of the evening, and cuddle with the dog I will finally be able to get. One can dream, right?
After I finish lunch, I walk slowly back to the office. As I pass the park, I spot Angie and Charles sharing a bench, wrapped in each other’s arms. I had that once, but it seems like a lifetime ago. I still wonder how it all went so wrong. What happened to my happily ever after? Shouldn’t everyone get a second chance at love? Part of me still holds on to hope that my someday will come.
I often question the decisions I made back then. I wonder what would have happened if I had just taken a few years off and followed Drew to California. I could have found another grad school. I could have worked while he fulfilled his internship. I could have made a trip to see him even though he always insisted there would be no free time for visits. But, no reason to dwell on the could-have-beens. I can only focus on the future, and right now, I have a business presentation to make in three short days.
14
Deep in the heart of Texas
Southern drawl. This group of Texans I am working with sure know how to drag out a word or add extra syllables to make words even longer. I’m in Dallas, Texas this week, visiting the headquarters of TradEx Corp. I consider myself a southerner since I grew up in Virginia and have lived in North Carolina for so long. However, the southern dialect of North Carolina is very different from that of Texas. This is cowboy boots and belt buckle southern here.
Wes McDowell is one of the nicest men I’ve had the pleasure of working with. His office staff is the epitome of southern hospitality. These people do not give handshakes; they give hugs.
Upon my arrival at the office, Wes and Jennifer Grayson-Harrington greet me. I extend my hand to greet her, but instead, she grabs me and hugs me so tightly it cuts off my circulation. I did not see that coming.
“We don’t do handshakes around heeeeee-ere…. Welcome to Dallas. I’m sooo happy to meeeet you.” Her healthy drawl rings in my ears.
As I stand with my hand awkwardly trapped at my mid-section, I nearly drop my bag. Releasing myself from her embrace, I step back and smooth my shirt. Wes reaches out to take my bag and gives me a firm handshake. That’s much more like it. Someone should give hyphen-name a lesson in business etiquette. Geez.
“It’s nice to meet you Ms….” I trail off, not sure what to call her.
She quickly chimes in.
“Oh, honey, just call me Jenn,” but she says it like Gin. “My last name is way too long to waste your time saying all that. The only reason I did that hyphenated name thing is that I’m an only child and a girl at that. My daddy has a fear that our name will never live on because I’m the last of the family. So, I did it for him.”
She laughs and waves her hand in front of her face and then leans in close like she’s going to whisper something to me.
“I’ve also said that if I ever have a boy, I’ll name him Grayson and drop the hyphen from my name. That should make him proud.”
She continues, not missing a beat or taking a breath. It's like listening to a run-on sentence.
“Wes has told me about all the wonderful things you’ve done for so many companies. I can’t wait for us to sit down and finalize our business plan. I’ve got some ideas that I want to pick your brain on.”
Jennifer continues to talk as we walk down the hallway to the conference room. This girl has spunk. She’s a very attractive lady, looks like she’s in her late twenties, and obviously likes to talk. We dive right into business plans and presentations. TradEx definitely has their stuff together, and Jenn is on the ball. I like her. She reminds me of myself a few years ago. Lots of potential with this one, I think. Wes sits back and listens to our conversations with a pleasant smile on his face. With all the work we have put into this latest revamp, I have no doubt that TradEx is poised to make a lasting impression in their industry.
Around 6 pm, we decide to wrap things up for the evening. As I gather my papers, I am prepared to head back to the hotel and relax for the evening. Wes has already left the room, and Jenn surprises me by asking, “Do you have any plans tonight? Cause I would love for you to come out with me tonight. Me and a couple of my girlfriends are going to eat and then to Jive to see a comedy show at eight. You wanna come with us?”
I stand there, papers in hand, wondering why this woman, who doesn’t even know me, has invited me to hang out with her and her friends. The excitement in her eyes is obvious, and while I normally do not socialize with clients after hours on a business trip, her expression is inviting.
“Thank you, but I planned to go back to the hotel for the evening,” I reply, as I neatly tuck my papers away.
“Girl, you have to eat. What you gonna do… order room service and watch a pay-per-view movie or somethin’?” she says with her hands on her hips, and head cocked to the side. I’m busted.
Tsk, tsk, tsk… she waves her finger at me. “Nope, we are going to eat a big fat steak tonight and laugh our butts off afterward.”
I’m kind of dumbfounded as I stand there staring at her. Not sure if she will accept no for an answer, I think of how I should respond. She walks over and hooks her arm through mine, patting the top of my hand.
“Clara… if I may call you that?” she trails off looking at me for confirmation that she can call me by my first name. I nod, and she continues her plea for me to join her. “You look like you could use some girl time. We’ve got all the hard work done for today, and that calls for some celebratin’.”
Her usage of -in at the end of every sentence makes her seem like everyone’s best friend rather than a company executive. It’s kind of hard not to warm up to her.
“I don’t want to intrude on your plans. I don’t mind going back to the hotel. That’s what I usually do.”
“My point exactly. That’s what you usually do, but every girl can use a change of pace once in a while. Hun, you are in Texas. Shake it up a little!” she laughs, doing a little shimmy with her backside.
Not being able to help myself a laugh escapes me, and I tell her, “Oh, why not? I’m in.”
She squeals with excitement and gives
me a “Yaaaaaaaaaaaay!” with jazz hands in the air.
We head out the door, and Jenn takes me to my hotel to drop off my luggage. We are not far from the local restaurant, and the comedy club is just across the street. As we walk in the door, a group of four other women stands up waving at us. Making our way over to the table all the girls greet each other with hugs.
“Guuuuurrrls this is Clara Willet. She’s helpin' me with my new job, and I invited her to spend the evenin’ with us, so she didn’t have to sit in that lonely hotel room watchin’ a $15 movie by herself. I know y’all don’t mind,” she says.
“Of course not!” one says, grabbing me in a tight squeeze. “I’m Nicole, and this is Kristin, Tyra, and Beth.” They all make their way over to me, and each greets me with the same, warm hug. I feel strangely comfortable with them as we sit down at the table. All of them eyeing me with big, cheesy grins, Nicole asks, “So where you from, Clara?”
“Well, I’m originally from Virginia, but I call North Carolina home now. I live in Charlotte.” They all smile and nod their heads. Tyra then asks, “So how did you end up in North Carolina?”
“I went to college there, and then moved back to Virginia for a few years after grad school. When the job in Charlotte came open I decided I wanted to be back in NC, so I moved,” I tell them with a smile. As I look around the table, I notice they all have on wedding rings, and one is even sporting a round bulge of a belly. She looks like she could go into labor at any moment.
They are all very welcoming, and we have an easy conversation during dinner. The food is delicious. Locally owned places are the best, and this one did not disappoint. I also found out that this is their monthly girls’ night out. These girls have been friends for a long time and make an effort to have a night out every month. All are married, and I was right about the one with the baby bump. She is due in 3 weeks, and jokes about laughing so hard at the comedy show that maybe it will put her in labor.
After dinner, we make our way across the street to the comedy club and sit at small, round tables. It’s open-mic night at Jive so anyone can get up and take a stab at entertaining us with their comedic banter. Some are good, and some are terrible. I think we laugh more at the ones trying to make themselves funny. The show ends with a regular who performs there weekly. We laugh until our cheeks burn from smiling all night. I'm worried Kristin will go into labor any minute. She has one of those loud, cackling laughs that is contagious and doesn’t stop the entire night.
Leaving the club, we say our goodbyes, and all the girls give me one last hug. They are so sweet and invite me back for another night with them when I visit Texas again. I leave feeling special to be accepted so easily into their circle of friends. Jenn drives me back to the hotel and drops me off. “I’ll pick you up at 9 in the mornin’," she says, waving.
When I get to my room, I slip the key card into the door, walk inside, and plop down on the bed. I needed tonight. Jenn had been right - I desperately needed some time with other women. I have a couple of friends back home, but no one I’m close to, other than Angie. Sometimes we catch a movie or go to dinner after work when her fiancé is working late, but that's not the same as having a group of girls to spend time with on a regular basis.
I still talk to my roommates from college, and we try to get together at least once a year. SSU Homecoming is usually the time we all come together for a weekend. We turn it into an adventure, booking hotel rooms at the local hotel, and visiting with friends who travel back to town for the festivities.
Marabeth lives in Charleston, South Carolina. I talk to her the most out of everyone. Now and then, I visit her and her husband and spend time with their kids. Sometimes she comes to visit me as well. I always laugh when I get the "Clara, I need a weekend away. I’m coming to visit” phone call, because I know it means she needs a break. I’m sure raising three kids is tough because she constantly runs between sports, dance, church, and work. When she comes to visit, we hole up in my apartment, watch movies all weekend, and eat junk food. We might venture out to eat or do a little shopping, but we usually have fun just staying up to talk through the wee hours of the morning.
Julie lives in Raleigh. She’s married, with two kids. I talk to her on occasion; mostly I keep up with her on Facebook. She sends me a text occasionally to check in, and when I can I like to visit her, too. There are a few others I keep in touch with from college, but I don’t have much time for a social life.
15
And so it begins again…
One night in Texas, surrounded by a group of lively women, brought everything into sharp focus. And by sharp, I mean it kind of hurt. While it was fun hanging out with Jenn and her friends, hearing about their husbands and kids reminded me of what I don’t have. I was quiet through most of the conversation that night because it’s hard to get involved when I don't have a husband or children.
Returning to Charlotte after the trip to Texas makes me think about a lot of things - primarily where I am in life at this moment. I have a great job, and...and...well, that's about it. Dating? Who, at almost 40 years old, wants to dive into the dating scene? Most people my age are married with a family. Then, there's the whole divorced population, which seems to have increased tenfold. I’ve considered trying a dating website, but the thought of meeting some random stranger based on certain attributes…which may or may not be entirely true…scares me to death. Anyone can make up anything they want about themselves; you can even post a picture of someone else. I feel like I would be setting myself up for even more disappointment if I showed up to a date expecting one person, only to be greeted by someone else entirely. Not to mention being scared out of my mind to take the plunge and meet a stranger for a first date. I need some connection to someone I date. At least through an acquaintance or mutual friend.
So that leaves me to meet a guy… well… ummm…. Yeah, there's not much else. Work?… Nada. My office is too small for that. I don’t do the club scene, so that’s a big, fat negative too. Ugh… this is why I’ve given up dating.
Instead of answering ridiculous feeler questions on [insert website name], I get back into my normal routine. The rest of the workweek is the same ole, same ole, day in and day out. Go to work. Go to lunch. Work late. Go home. Eat a lean cuisine for supper. Fall asleep on the couch while watching TV or reading a book. The next day I repeat the same cycle over again. Then, every week or two, I mix it up by throwing in a flight to another state. This is my exciting life.
♦♦♦
Friday is a nice, warm day in the Queen City, so I walk the few blocks down the street to have lunch at my favorite café. It's packed today, but luckily, I get my usual spot by the window. Sipping my sweet tea with my hand propped under my chin, I’m looking out the window and daydreaming.
“Excuse me,” the sound of a man's voice interrupts my thoughts. A few seconds pass, and I hear it again.
“Excuse me, ma’am. Would you mind if I joined you, or if I borrowed this chair?” I hear someone say. Snapping out of my trance, I turn to find a very attractive man holding a tray of food and a drink, looking at me expectantly.
“It’s rather busy in here today, and I just wondered if I might join you at your table?” he asks. “I’ve noticed you eat here just about as much as I do and it seems your favorite spot happens to be mine as well.”
I must have lost the ability to speak because I can’t form words or get past the tall suit standing in front of me. He looks to be about middle age, brown hair with a few grays peeking through, and dark brown eyes. After a very long and awkward pause, he says, “I’m sorry, that was very forward of me. I didn’t mean to intrude on your lunch. I’ll take my stuff to-go today,” and he turns to leave.
Snap out of it, Clara! My mind is desperately trying to say something, but I can't seem to form a coherent sentence. I finally blurt out, “It’s okay. You can sit here.” The man looks over his shoulder at me. I can tell he’s probably having second thoughts about sitting with the crazy lady with the b
lank stare.
“Are you sure?” he asks. “I don’t mind taking it back to my office.”
“No, no… please. Sit.” I gesture toward the empty seat across from me and smile, motioning for him to come back. “Sit.”
I feel my cheeks flush and wonder if they look as red as they feel. “It is super busy today, and I’m pretty much finished, so you can take my table. I’ll gather my things,” I tell him as I stand and collect my trash, placing it on my tray.
“You don’t have to leave,” he says, placing his tray on the table. “Although I don't blame you if you don't want to have lunch with some random table beggar,” he says with a laugh. I look at him again. This time I let my gaze linger on him a bit longer. He is very, very handsome. Why in the world have I never noticed him in here before? Now that I’ve had a good look, I’m reconsidering my offer to leave. Maybe I will stay and have a refill on my drink.
He extends his hand to me. “Brady Reese.”
I reciprocate, shaking his hand as I introduce myself. “Clara Willet,” I tell him with a smile. I shake his hand a little longer than I probably should.
“It’s nice to meet you, Clara. You don’t have to leave. Honestly, I wouldn’t mind the company.” He settles into his seat, arranging his napkin on his lap.
“Oh, it’s okay…” I tell him. “I have finished anyway. Just doing some people-watching before I head back to the office.” I place my purse on my shoulder and pick up my tray.
“I do appreciate you letting me take your table. I’m sure we’ll see each other again. I think I eat here about as often as you. Maybe we can share a table next time?” he asks with a lopsided grin. He has a nice smile and kind eyes.