Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 89645 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 359(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89645 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 359(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
I meet her honesty with some of my own. “I’m leaving, Cornelia.”
She doesn’t look the least bit surprised. “When?”
“This week, I think.”
“So soon?”
“It’s on purpose. I’m worried if I linger here much longer, I’ll never want to leave. You’ve given me something I’ve never had before…”
She stands from her seat and rounds the coffee table so she can sit down beside me, takes my hands in hers, and places them on her lap. Her thumbs brush gently back and forth across my knuckles.
“Well then, we can’t be sad. We’ve both accomplished something great this summer, haven’t we?”
* * *
Two days later, I pull my worn duffle bag out of my closet—the one from my old life—and I fill it with the least expensive clothes I can find. I run my hand along the designer dresses, lamenting the fact that I have to leave them behind. The fancy heels tempt me too, but I reach for practical shoes instead and leave the rest behind.
Chef prepares a dinner with five courses, all my favorite dishes from the last few months. Cornelia and I share two bottles of wine, laughing about memories from the summer as Louis snores at our feet.
The next day, I cash one of the paychecks and use it to buy a cell phone, a bus ticket, and a train ticket. The rest of the money will help me once I get to where I’m going. All the other checks go into a shoebox.
My bus to Providence leaves at four PM on Friday, and when I carry my things outside and down the stairs to Frank’s waiting car, I find every member of Rosethorn’s staff arguing nearby.
Upon closer inspection, they aren’t arguing, they’re playing a game—rock paper scissors—which seems absolutely insane until I realize they’re trying to figure out who will get to escort me to the bus station.
“Paper covers rock!” Rita says, sliding past Bruce to take her rightful place in the back seat of the Range Rover.
Cornelia’s already up front in the passenger seat with Louis on her lap. When he sees me, he starts to bark animatedly and draws everyone’s attention in my direction.
“You guys don’t have to do this,” I say with a shake of my head. “I’ll be back in a few weeks. I promised Cornelia I’d come for Labor Day at the latest. And who knows, maybe I’ll get where I’m going, take one look at the scary world, and hightail it right back here.”
“Nonsense,” Cornelia says, tutting in disagreement. “The world is your oyster.”
“She’s right,” Chef says, stepping close to pat my shoulder before making room for Rita.
She straightens my shirt then brushes some of my hair behind my ear. Tears build up in her eyes, and I hug her tight before saying farewell to everyone else.
The ride to the bus station is a short one, and I refuse to let anyone linger in the terminal with me. We’ll only sit there crying like fools when there’s no reason for it. This isn’t goodbye!
I accomplish a Herculean feat in managing not to shed a single tear until I’m sitting on the bus alone as it pulls away from the station. As promised, none of them came inside with me, but there they sit, in the Range Rover, trailing beside the bus and honking to get my attention.
I wave back, laughing and drying my tears with the back of my hand.
They follow me all the way out of Newport, and then Frank pulls off to turn back home.
Once they’re gone, I sit in my seat facing my future with the shoebox on my lap as I try to convince myself I’m doing the right thing.
28
Maren
Other than the day I spent in the city with Cornelia before we flew to Paris, I’ve never been to Manhattan, which I realize is slightly absurd considering I’ve lived so close to it my entire life. A city this size takes some getting used to, and I feel like it’ll dwarf me if I let it.
My hotel is at 65th and Columbus, and my walk there from Grand Central takes forty minutes with my duffle in tow. The city streets are packed and hot, and I’m sweating bullets by the time I make it into the hotel lobby and give the receptionist my name.
This place is nothing fancy. I specifically hoped it wouldn’t be considering I don’t have much money to spare. My room is small, the smallest one they offer, and it turns out if you specifically ask for the “cheapest” room in the place, they’re really going to give it to you. I’m down in the basement, right next to where the employees go on break. I can hear their TV blaring through the walls as I set my bag down on the full bed and then sit down beside it.