The week dragged on. Derek hadn’t said anything, but at least they weren’t fighting. Every day after dinner, he cleaned up and she spent some time working on the novel. Those funny characters, they were not all turning out like she had envisioned them. The votes kept coming. She couldn’t believe it; the top three. This was better than she imagined.
Sam dragged herself through the door. The smell of garlic and onion greeted her. Who was home? Sam poked her head in the kitchen. Derek stood behind the stove. Shadows flickered on the dining room wall. Roses graced the center of the table. “What’s the occasion?”
“You remember that promotion? They offered me the position today.”
Sam rushed over and kissed him. “I’m so happy for you.”
“I’ll be getting a huge raise and my own office.”
Sam reached around to squeeze and nearly sent linguini flying. What was he doing making pasta? That was her favorite meal; could it be? She stepped back and took a deep breath. She fished silverware and napkins from the drawer. Derek presented two plates of linguini alfredo. “I wanted to talk to you,” he said.
“About what?”
“Writing. I’ve done a lot of thinking and you deserve the opportunity to try and make it work. On one condition.”
“What’s that?” Sam held her breath.
“If you can show me over the next few months while you are still working that you can earn money. You can quit.”
Sam closed her eyes. “How am I supposed to accomplish that while working full time?”
“I thought you would be excited that I’m going to let you write.”
Her chair scraped against the floor. “First off, I don’t need your permission to write. Secondly, the amount of commitment it takes to finish a novel is a full time job. So unless you are taking over the housework and everything else you’ve just set an impossible standard for me to meet.”
Her fists squeezed shut. What was she expecting? Go ahead, quit, see what happens. Tears dripped down her face. Sam threw the covers over her head.
The next morning, Kathy was waiting in the cubicle for her. “Come with me please.”
They rushed past her office to the managing partner’s office. “Please have a seat.”
Sam dropped into the chair. He turned to face her. His kind eyes looked into hers. “Up until now you have always done impeccable work, but late last night I discovered a huge mistake that almost cost us the case. Luckily, we caught it in time.”
He slid the memo over to her. Circled in red was the mistake. Sam remembered that memo; it was the one she’d argued with Kathy over. “I didn’t write this.”
“It came from your queue.”
“I wrote the memo, but not that.”
He sighed. “Whether you did or you didn’t, it has been decided to let you go. We will be giving you a severance package; a month for all of the hard work you have done.”
Tears dripped down her face. This wasn’t fair. What else was there going to be? He slid the tissue box over, but she shoved it back and marched out. This was garbage. Hopefully, they replaced her with someone who does nothing. Sam slammed the door to the car. How was she going to tell Derek? “Hi. Why are you calling me? Aren’t you supposed to be working?”
“I got fired for a mistake that I didn’t make.”
His breath quickened.
“They’re giving me severance for a month.”
“You should be able to find something by then.” He hung up. Sam threw the car in reverse and squealed the tires out of the parking lot. What a prick. Sam dropped her bags in the entryway and picked up her novel. She was almost done. Maybe, this could save her.
It had been almost a week and a half; no job leads, no interviews. Derek was getting pissed. What could she do? Ring. Ring. “Hello.”
“Hi this is Jenny at Winter Publishing Group. Is this Samantha?”
“Yes, this is Sam.”
“I’m calling to let you know that we have selected your book from the contest and we want to offer you a publishing contract. I’m hoping you’ll tell me that you have more written.”
Her hands shook. “I do, about 90,000 words and I think it’s done.”
“Excellent. Email me the whole thing.
[email protected]. A courier should be arriving shortly with a contract for you to sign and an advance check for $25,000.”
The phone clanked against the floor. Sam immediately scooped it up. “I’m so sorry.”
Jenny laughed. “It happens all the time. I look forward to working with you.”
She hung up. Sam dropped to the floor. The phone buzzed at her until she hung up. She couldn’t believe it. This was everything she wanted. Knock. Knock. Sam rushed to the back door. A young man handed her two envelopes. She ripped through the large one and glanced through the contract. Good, she was keeping all of her rights. Sam signed it with a flourish. “It makes me happy to give people such good news. Have a good day.”
He turned and left. Sam savored the other envelope. What would Derek say now? It was time to make peace between them. He was only worried about their well being. She’d now proven that it could work. Sam held her breath.
Derek clomped through the door. Sam presented him with a large t-bone steak.
“What are you cooking?” He glared at her. Could that man never be happy?
“I found a job.”
He smiled. “Doing what?”
“Writing.”
The smile disappeared. “Are you joking?”
Sam shook her head. “I just got a publishing contract and an advance check.”
His eyes narrowed. “For how much?”
“$25,000.”
His mouth dropped open. “I’m sorry I doubted you. I guess you are that good. You can stop looking for work if you want.”
He opened his arms. That was the best offer she was going to get. Sam scooted over and snuggled in. She couldn’t ask for anything more.
Six Months Later
Sam strung lights around the Christmas tree. Derek snuggled up behind her. She closed her eyes and smiled. “I can’t believe the last six months. You have absolutely amazed me. I’m so sorry for all the fighting we did. I’m so sorry for ever doubting your talent as a writer; 6 weeks on the bestseller list. Do you forgive me?”
Sam turned to face him. “I do forgive you.” She reached up and kissed him full on the mouth. “I have two early presents for you.”
He nestled his forehead on hers. “I don’t need any other present but you.”
She smiled. “Jenny called. They’re sending another contract and another advance check. This time they want three books over the next two years, for $100,000.”
“And the other?”
“I’m pregnant.”
****
About the Author
Jennifer lives in North Tonawanda, New York with her husband Brian. Their greatest joy is being foster parents. Jennifer has also written “Life Liberty and the Pursuit of Happiness”, her debut novel.
Connect With Me Online
https://www.facebook.com/pages/Jennifer-Zeliff/109728292444074
Excerpt from Life Liberty and the Pursuit of Happiness
January 20th, 1990
Dear Diary,
Classes were dumb today. Why do I need art history and literature? Those two classes have more work than my other four business classes. Oh well, if I want to maintain my GPA then I guess I have some work to do today. Josie left her dishes all over the apartment again. I’m tired of cleaning up after her, although she did fold my laundry. Maybe, we can work out a barter system for house cleaning. Professor Dewey would be proud. Macy’s called wanting to know if I could work this weekend. I said sure, it’s not like I have a life right now.
January 25th, 1990
Dear Diary,
I got stuck working the jewelry counter this weekend my least favorite pl
ace in the entire store. Ugh! The only bright spot was this cute boy who stopped by. He was charming and gorgeous with his dark blond hair and blue eyes. We flirted and it was marvelous. Sweet dreams and I mean it.
January 28th, 1990
Dear Diary,
I cannot stand my professors. They each think that the only class I’m taking is theirs. The work is piling up faster than I can get it done. Josie agrees with me. As a result the apartment looks trashed, but I have no time to care and neither does Josie. Macy’s called again asking about work. I didn’t know what to say. Not working would mean more time for homework, but also no money to eat with. I finally said yes hoping to see a certain cute boy again. He still makes me smile.
February 1st, 1990
Dear Diary,
This time I didn’t mind the jewelry counter. Emily even allowed me a little time to do some homework. She says she remembers that time in college. I was so grateful, I helped her take out the trash my least favorite task at the jewelry counter. Emily actually smiled. Mom says Ellie you have to take the good with the bad. She’s right. I didn’t see my cute boy today. I was disappointed. Maybe he was better left in my fantasies.
February 2nd, 1990
Dear Diary,
He came back! He brought me a yellow rose and said he’s been wanting to see me all week. His name is Clinton and he’s studying piano at Juilliard. I’m so impressed. He wants to meet for coffee! We set a date for Wednesday after my 3pm class. Josie was so happy for me she bounded around the apartment. She too has been dateless for a while. I couldn’t sleep so I cleaned the kitchen and folded laundry. It’s 3am and I should get to bed. Thank you cupid.
February 5th, 1990
Dear Diary,
Coffee was amazing. Clinton was so articulate and well behaved. We talked about music, art, business. That man is truly intelligent and he’s rich. He invited me to a party Friday night. I can’t wait. Josie is lending me her cocktail dress a navy blue strapless gown. It’s absolutely beautiful. I told her I’d see if there were any cuties for her. She just laughed. I know this isn’t good. I haven’t been able to concentrate on my school work. I guess I’d better get back to work.
February 7th, 1990
Dear Diary,
I’ve never been to a party like that. There were ice sculptures and foods I couldn’t pronounce. I’ve never seen so many diamonds in once place. Clinton’s mother is very nice. She said she was once a poor college student who worked hard and married well. She seemed genuinely happy her son had found a nice girl. Clinton and I danced. He was so wonderful. We walked in the moonlight along the pier. He kissed me and it was the best kiss ever. I feel so alive. He says he’s planning something special for Valentine’s Day. I can’t wait.
February 14th, 1990
Dear Diary,
I’m so angry at him. It was all one big ploy to try and get me into bed with him. What was he thinking? He invited me over to his apartment. He had this lavish dinner cooked oysters in cream sauce. There were candles lit and flower petals everywhere. After dinner, he tried to get me drunk on champagne. I did feel a little tipsy. He carried me back to his bedroom. When I said no, he got quite angry and threw me out. I hope I never see him again.
February 15th, 1990
Dear Diary,
Clinton came over drunk and angry. He raped me.
Chapter 1
It was already after dark on an early fall evening; Abby started the drive home like always. School was getting harder and she kept getting later. Riding by herself, she liked the classical radio station. It soothed her. However, tonight they were playing Masters of Piano and she couldn't bear to listen. Distracted she flipped stations. Daughtry’s soulful voice filled the car. Suddenly, another car was upon her, swerving. Cautiously, she slowed down. The red car came around her. The man behind the wheel waved and nearly crashed into the side of her. Then he took off. Worried, she decided to call 911.
"Hi, I'd like to report suspicious driving activity. A cherry red Cobalt, license plate number AL7B32. We are headed south on route 324, just passed the blue water tower."
"Thank you, I'll send a car out to investigate."
She hung up the phone and felt a little bit of relief. The red car was still driving all over the road. Abby couldn’t keep up and soon the car disappeared. A minute later she came around the bend. Stunned, it took her a moment to register that there had been an accident. Slowly, she eased her car onto the side of the road. Abby searched her brain for what nursing training said she should do. CALL 911 first.
"Hi, I called a few minutes ago. The cherry red Cobalt caused an accident."
"Thank you. I'll send out emergency services."
She hung up her phone again. Quickly, she pulled out her emergency kit and set up triangles along the road. The horn on the red car wailed and the smell of burnt rubber rose up in waves from the tires. The guy in the red car was slumped over the wheel. Abby checked his vitals. His breathing and pulse were somewhat steady. Abby ran over to the blue mini van. A young woman's head was through the windshield. Abby opened her door and checked vitals, very weak pulse labored breathing. The woman wore a blue floral dress. Abby looked in the rear Three wide eyed kids in the backseat stared back at her.
“It will be alright,” Abby said.
The sirens were in the distance. Abby ran around to the side of the van. She threw open the door and climbed in. Three boys were dressed up in suits. Abby checked each one. They all had bruises along their chest from whiplash.
"Mommy, it hurts," one little boy said.
"I know, I'm sorry," Abby said.
Abby unstrapped each one of the kids taking care to support their necks. The ambulance arrived. Two EMT's set up backboards. The one man took each one of the children out to help. A program on the floor caught her attention. Instinctively, she put in her pocket and went out to help. More people arrived. The young man in the red car was sent out by ambulance. People were doing CPR on the mom. The kids were getting oxygen. Soon, the defibrillator came out and the mom was shocked again and again. The kids were screaming and Abby started to cry.
One by one, the boys went into shock. The defibrillator came out again. The EMT's worked and worked. It was too much. A fireman came over.
"Ma'am are you ok?"
She nodded her head.
"Come let's get you checked out."
He walked with her to the back of the ambulance. Abby sat down, her eyes glued to those kids. He left her. Everyone stopped, and she knew. Tears fell in earnest. One tech walked over without a word. He ran a set of vitals.
"Did you see what happened?"
She nodded her head again.
"Name?"
"Abigail Holmes," she whispered.
He walked over to a group of officers. Abby remembered the program in her pocket. She reached in, uncrumpled it and began to read Masten Piano recital. September 7th at 7pm. She took a deep breath. Memories came flooding in.
Dad had signed her up for lessons without telling Mom. They were on their way to the hall.
“Where are we going?” Mom asked.
“It’s a surprise,” Abby answered.
Mrs. Young flitted around the room offering words of encouragement before each student went out. Abby’s fingers twitched then she heard her name. Abby walked out on the stage. She closed her eyes and began to play Beethoven. The audience paused before rising to their feet.
“She did so well,” Dad said on the way home.
“Quite well.”
Abby beamed. When they got home, Dad went into the office. Mom followed her upstairs. She came into her room as Abby put on her pajamas.
“Abby?”
“Yes, Mom.”
She raised her hand and slapped Abby. “If I ever catch you playing that piano again; you won’t like it.”
Quietly, Abby slipped out of the back of the ambulance, and walked over to her car the program still in her hand.
Chapter 2
Abby opened the front door. She walked back into the kitchen; the house creaked and moaned with every step she took. The glow of the coffee pot cast an eerie shadow. She circled through the dining room to the family room. The house creaked. Abby jumped. She spun on her heels and hurried back the way she had come, down the hallway, right into the living room, continuing back into the kitchen. Quietly, she walked the circuit until there was nothing left. Abby collapsed on the couch, closing her eyes.
"Honey, someone from the sheriff's office would like a word with you."
Abby opened her eyes. The sun shone in like nothing had changed. Mom stood there; her hands on her hips. No, she wouldn't keep him waiting. Slowly, Abby stood up and stretched. Her knee popped. Voices echoed from the kitchen. Abby trudged out to the kitchen. A young man in a deputy uniform leaned against the counter. Mom stood in the corner. Abby pulled out a stool.
"I understand you witnessed an accident last night."
"Not the accident itself, but the before and after."
"I also understand you called to warn us of the driving behavior of one cherry red Cobalt."
"I did."
"We need a formal statement from you about what you witnessed."
"Sure." Abby relayed the events of last night. When she finished, the deputy had her sign the bottom of the account.
"Thank you for your help. I will show myself out," he said.
Mom stood in the corner silent. What was she thinking? Abby didn't dare ask. She slid the stool underneath the corner and shuffled up the stairs. Maybe a warm shower would help. The warm water dripped over her. Abby closed her eyes. Nope, still there. After a while, the water turned cold. Abby shut it off. The cold air shocked her as she opened the door; to get dressed or not get dressed. Abby opened one drawer then another. Finally, she settled on pajamas. Getting dressed tired her out. Abby crawled into bed and tried to think of something else; anything else.