Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 75983 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 380(@200wpm)___ 304(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75983 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 380(@200wpm)___ 304(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
“Oh?” I looked up from my laptop, where I’d been working on a flyer for winter classes in advance of our regular schedule starting back up later in January. Removing my glasses briefly, I rubbed the bridge of my nose. My mother had been at a budget meeting with the board this afternoon, and I was relieved to see her happy rather than frazzled as she often was after a tense board meeting.
“The Nutcracker production was such a success, the board has agreed to fund your position another six months if you want it.” She grinned at me.
“That’s great.” I forced a measure of enthusiasm into my voice. The discussion over staff positions was why I hadn’t been at the meeting myself. I’d run the budget spreadsheets myself, so I’d known the funding was there, but the news was still welcome. It wasn’t my mother’s fault that Alexander had been gone a week now, and I didn’t have much excitement for anything, including my continued employment. “And of course I want to keep working here with you.”
I hadn’t allowed myself to think about what I’d do if my position were eliminated. I liked working with my mother, liked all the families who came to classes, enjoyed being around the dancers like Cheryl, and found satisfaction in keeping everything at the school humming along. And paying the bills was nice, as was living upstairs from work. I had everything I needed.
Well, almost everything, but I wasn’t about to discuss that with my mother, who was already peering at me intently.
“Are you sure?” She plunked the folder full of budget papers I’d prepared for her down on the edge of my desk so she could rest a hand on my shoulder. “I love having you here, and you’ve been such a godsend, but I don’t want to keep you off the job market forever.”
“I’m not worried about that.” I gave a weary sigh. New year, same tired discussion.
“Good. I was just telling Waylon what an amazing job you did with ensuring the production was a big hit.” Huh. My mother’s smile widened, her pride seemingly genuine. “The public schools want us back, season ticket sales are up, and enrollment in the winter session of classes is booming.”
“You were bragging about me to Waylon?” I narrowed my gaze. Waylon, Helen, and their families had taken up much of my mother’s annual holiday letter that she included with her cards. My work at the school had merited a mention, but not the paragraphs of my siblings. “You’re always going on about me getting a real job. Waylon and Helen are the true success stories.”
“I love all my children equally. I’m proud of all of you. I’m sorry if I’ve caused you to think otherwise.” My mother rubbed my shoulders. “And truth be told, I have a fair amount of guilt over needing so much of your help last year. That’s behind a lot of my fretting. I don’t want to hold you back from living your life.”
“You’re not.” I spun in my office chair so I could meet her gaze. “Perhaps our sibling rivalry has limited my ability to hear praise. And this school might mean the world to you, but you being here to run it means everything to me.”
“Well, I owe a lot to you.” My mother’s eyes turned misty. “I couldn’t have made it through the last year without you.”
I stood so I could give her a hug. Truth be told, I needed the hug too. I didn’t like thinking about how different last year could have gone. Her health was a continued gift, one I’d been guilty of overlooking in my irritation over my siblings.
Indeed, I’d let that irritation cloud my own sense of self-worth. I flashed back to the New Year’s Eve party and how out of place I’d felt. How much of that was due to misplaced shame over my underemployment? I’d spent the whole time with Alexander convinced he could do so much better than me, instead of giving myself credit for everything I had to offer. I wanted to tell him this new insight, but he was gone. The realization made me hug my mother tighter, like a kid seeking comfort.
“Love you too,” I mumbled into her hair.
“And now that I’m back to my old self, I just want to make sure you’re happy, whatever that means for you.” She stepped back from the hug to give me a searching looking. “I love you working here, but we’d survive if you felt called elsewhere.”
“Thank you for saying that.” I gave her another hug in large part to hide my own damp eyes. Did I feel called elsewhere? My head hurt. I was no longer sure about anything.
“I mean it.” Her tone turned stern. “You’ve been so down this week. You deserve to be happy.”