“Wish I could say I feel as good as I look, but…”
“Yeah, Mom told me.” I brush a hand over my jawline. “What’s the diagnosis?”
“Stage four cancer.” He says it as casually as if I were asking him about the weather. He looks like he’s accepted the terms of his destiny, but when I glance over at my mother and see her frown, it’s obvious she hasn’t. I know she loves my father and will go through this with him until the end, but I wish he had treated her better to merit such loyalty.
We spend the afternoon talking over lunch. It’s been years since I’ve felt like I’ve had a family, and even though I still have a lot of resentment toward him, I’m glad I came. I know my mom is going to need a lot of support, whether she wants to admit it or not.
It’s been a week since I’ve arrived in Boston, which is beautiful in the summer, but I’m still suffering from the jet lag. The three-hour time difference has messed with my sleeping schedule, and I’m so exhausted. I’ve been struggling to wake up to my alarm every morning. I’ve also been suffering from these annoying headaches and nausea. I looked it up, and I guess it’s pretty common if you experience jet lag, so I’m hoping my body gets used to it soon. Either that or the nerves are wreaking havoc on my entire body.
Even texting Drew or Courtney is becoming a challenge. When I’m up and ready for work at eight, they’re still in bed and barely functioning. I’ve learned not to expect a response from Courtney until my lunch break.
I only brought the essentials with me, so unpacking was a breeze. I managed to find a furnished studio apartment, and with the company’s payment plan, it’s actually affordable. It’s only four hundred square feet, but it’s cute and works for me. The day after I arrived, I FaceTimed Courtney and showed her around. She nearly gasped when I showed her the tiny bathroom.
“Can you even pee in there?” she asked as I gave her the tour. The answer is yes, but it’s not easy. The door has to be left open. Otherwise, my knees hit the paneling.
The kitchen isn’t a kitchen at all, but rather a kitchenette with a tiny sink, a mini fridge, and a one-burner stove. It doubles as my bedroom, which is fine by me since I’m only home to sleep or shower anyway. But the one bonus is the rooftop deck and community garden I get to use.
I’ve been at the firm five days now, which is terrifying and exciting all at once. My boss, Henry O’Connor, is extremely intimidating. I do most of the bitch work, but I know once I prove myself, I’ll be able to handle some group projects.
By the time my day ends and I make it back to my little hole of an apartment, it’s after seven. I’m exhausted and hungry, and the only thing that keeps me sane is talking to Courtney throughout the day. Drew checks in on me every couple of days, and I know he’s worried about me, but I need to prove to him and myself that I’m capable of doing this. I left home at eighteen, graduated college with honors, and now I’m ready for whatever the real world throws at me.
Courtney: It’s been years since I’ve gotten laid. My vagina is starting to prune.
The first thing I see when I wake up is a text message from Courtney from the night before. I laugh and send her a text back.
Viola: It has not been years, and unless you’ve been soaking it in hot water for months, I doubt it’s pruney.
Surprisingly, she messages me back before I even roll out of bed.
Courtney: Well, it sure feels like years. At this point, I’d be lucky to even remember how to do it.
I snort at her dramatics.
Viola: I don’t know...I bet it’s just like riding a bike. Your vagina’s instincts will kick in and you’ll be dry humping in no time.
Courtney: No one says dry humping anymore, Lola. Plus, don’t tease me with that shit… you either put out or GTFO.
Burying my head into my pillow, I laugh, and it feels good.
Viola: I need to get ready for work. Buy yourself a dildo and get some practice in. Talk later!
Once I’m half-ready and out the door, I hail a cab and finish my makeup as we swerve around the traffic. Union International is right in the heart of the city, so there are a lot of places within walking distance for lunch or coffee, which is nice.
I work with four other interns, but only two of us work for Mr. O’Connor. His name is Liam, and he’s from Miami. He’s been super sweet and helpful as I’ve adjusted to everything around the firm.
“Any big plans for your first official weekend here?” he asks as we step into the elevator.
“No, not really. Unless you consider FaceTiming my best friend and reading big plans?” I say with an easy laugh.
“Well, if your big plans fall through, I’m meeting up with some friends for a drink downtown if you feel like joining. Here, I’ll give you my number.” He holds his hand out, waiting for my phone.
Instinctively, I unlock it and hand it over. I figure it can’t hurt to have a friend around here, especially if I’m going to be here for six months or longer.
“Awesome, thanks,” I say as he hands it back.
“I texted myself from your phone, so I have yours too, just in case.”
I nod, unsure of what to say. I don’t want to assume he’s hitting on me because I have no intentions of hooking up with anyone while I’m here, especially someone from the office. I’ve been thinking about Travis nonstop since I left. I feel guilty for leaving without saying goodbye, but I knew I had to. I knew if I saw him, I would run into his arms and never get on that plane regardless of how hurt I was. I couldn’t let a guy get in the way of my future, not after all the hard work I’ve put in and all the goals I’ve set for myself. Travis will always have my heart, but for now, I need to stay focused on me. If we have anything worth saving, it will be there in six months.
The weeks fly by, the hours blurring into days, the days into weeks. Liam becomes a good friend and introduces me to some of his local buddies. He shows me around the bars and best seafood restaurants. It feels like another world out here, but I’m soaking up everything this experience has to offer.
Travis texts me every few days. When I first arrived, we didn’t talk for two weeks, probably because he was hurt I left without saying anything. Then one night he sent me a picture of Gryff, with the caption We miss you. I cried the moment I saw his sweet little face. Before I could respond, he sent a second picture of the two of them lying in his bed, and Travis sticking his lower lip out in a sad pout. I about lost it. I missed him so damn much, but I knew I had to stay strong. This was good for me, and I had to remember that. Travis and I were in a complicated situation, and all I wanted was to get to a neutral place again where it stopped hurting.
Now he sends me picture updates of how big Gryff is getting, and he asks how things are here. We don’t say much other than that, which is enough for us right now. I know we’ll have a lot to talk about when I visit for the holidays.
About halfway through my apprenticeship, I catch some kind of summer flu. It’s awful, but I work through it until I’m off on the weekend. It doesn’t ease up, so Liam surprises me with soup and crackers.