“So this poor girl is going to be run through the gauntlet starting tomorrow?” Bram asks. I nod. “Look out, Charlee, you have no idea what you just signed up for.”
I couldn’t have said it better myself.
Chapter Three
CHARLEE
“Hi, Grandma.”
“Oh, my goodness. Hi, Chuckie. How’s my beautiful girl?”
Chuckie is the lovely term of endearment my grandma decided to give me at a very young age. My grandpa’s name was Charlie and of course, she used to call him Chuck, therefore, I’m Chuckie.
“I’m good. I wanted to let you know I got your birthday brunch invite. The old broad still has some beautiful cursive in her.”
She chuckles. “Young broad, honey, young broad. And thank you. How did I do on the raunchy factor?”
Every other weekend, we get together and do hand lettering together. When I started showing her my different styling of phrases, she was immediately hooked and has been carefully applying vastly inappropriate words and phrases on her correspondence, especially for a soon-to-be eighty-year-old.
What I love about my grandma though is that she’s young in mind and body despite her age. She’s hip, in with all the cool lingo, has a vast array of weekly activities, and is always keeping herself busy. She likes to call herself the Silver Queen of Long Island because she pretty much rules the seniors in her senior center, constantly leading them in aerobics classes—Jane Fonda style, headbands included—walks around the island, as well as some serious puzzle competitions. I’ve been a part of a few, and I’m not kidding when I say my hand was almost gnawed off by the sharpest pair of dentures I’ve ever seen when I was being too slow with one edge.
Thinking back to her card that read “Brunch time, Bitch” I say, “It was a new feeling, having my grandmother call me bitch. Sparked something exciting inside of me.”
“I knew it would.” She chuckles. “I focused on highlighting the B word. Ronald Gaffrey walked in on me at the rec center while I was outlining in green and he sneered. When he turned around, I flipped him the bird.”
“Ugh, Ronald Gaffrey is such a pill.”
“A giant horse pill,” Grandma replies. “So, are you calling me to tell me about a new man you ran into at the convention? What did I tell you about being in your best light? Did it work?”
I ran into a man all right, a brute of a man with a grumpus attitude who hired me while scowling. Can’t feel better about that . . .
“I didn’t meet anyone.”
“Drats. I thought that was going to work. You know I’m not getting any younger. I need to see you walking down the aisle, Chuckie. I still think about how Chris almost tore my heart out of my chest.”
You weren’t the only one, Grandma.
Chris tore out everyone’s hearts by not showing up at the altar, but instead, hopping on the plane to go on our honeymoon.
Without me.
When I finally got ahold of him to ask why, it was a simple answer. He didn’t really love me and didn’t know how to tell me.
Yep. Stand-up guy that one.
I don’t love you, but hey, plan the wedding, spend all the money, and then on the actual wedding day, I won’t show up. Ass. Hole. It would have been much simpler if he’d broken up with me instead of proposing. And cheaper. And less humiliating.
But he felt the pressure from his parents to get married, and even though I hate his guts, I kind of understand what he meant. I feel the pressure from my grandma on a weekly basis.
“I know, but something good did come from the conference.”
“Oh, sweet goodness, did you get a job?”
I knew she’d be excited. She worries about me all the time, and I know it’s because she was one of the deciding factors for me staying in the city when I was let go. She took it personally as her fault. She’s been trying to find me a job ever since through her “contacts.” The only interview I got was with her neighbor’s son who is an anal doctor and I just . . . I couldn’t. I admire anyone who wants to work with human’s asses for a living, but I am not one of those people. I mean, how do you address his patients as they leave looking like they’ve just had something stuck up their rear end? Hope you have an ass-some day.
“I did. A really amazing one.”
“Well, slap my arthritic hip, that’s wonderful, Chuckie. Tell me all about it.”
Smiling to myself, I sit back in my couch, cup of hot chocolate on my knee and I say, “Well, it’s an executive assistant job . . .”
What a beautiful morning.
The smell of sewer wafts in the air as I walk to my new place of employment, enjoying a donut from the bodega around the corner. A new day, and a new chapter is ahead of me.
I called my parents Saturday night after I spoke with my grandma to let them know the news.
They were ecstatic. Being from Upstate New York, Schenectady to be exact, they were always worried about me living the fast-paced life in the city, and that worry increased with the merger. I told them not to worry despite them begging me to come back to Schenectady where I could work for their podiatrist friend at the front desk.
No, thank you.
I knew what I was doing and even though funds got pretty low, I never let them know. But now, nothing to worry about because my salary is OH MY GOD good. Mr. Danvers loved me, but he didn’t love me that much. And when Mr. Westin said it was low to start, I held back my scoff.
Yeah, okay, that’s low . . . surrrre. How will I ever live?
Sunday night, Mama bought herself a delightful steak to celebrate the night before my first day. And . . . I got the truffle butter to go with it. I slathered that gooey yumminess and suckled on cultured cuisine’s teat.
It was everything I could have asked for.
Now that I’m here, ready for a new day at a new job, I could not be more excited.
I wonder what it’s going to be like? Mr. Danvers’s office was always so pleasant. Fresh flowers were always at my desk, I had many friends on multiple floors, and working for a man who appreciated me was icing on top of the cake.
Casual Fridays were always a win.
Plus Mr. Danvers worshipped the ground I walked on and trusted my opinion.
Hopefully, I can have an impact on Westin Enterprises like I did for Mr. Danvers.
Before I walk into the building that I will soon call my new work home, I lick the glaze off my fingers from my donut and then quickly wipe them with a wet wipe from my purse. Clean and ready to go, I take my phone out of my purse and stop a lovely looking lady who doesn’t seem to be in a rush like the other people around me.
“Would you mind taking a picture of me?” I ask her. “It’s my first day at my new job and I’d love to have a photo to commemorate the moment.”
“Of course,” the lady says with a kind smile. “Congratulations. What a wonderful day to start a job on. The sun is bright and shining past all these concrete buildings.”
“I was thinking the same thing.” Smiling, I step back and hold on to my purse, giving the best side pose I can muster.
“Got it.” The lady hands me my phone back. “Enjoy your new job. Knock them dead.”