Page 55 of Hearts at War

“What?” She grinned.

“You are totally trying to pull off a Bill Lumbergh thing there.”

She giggled, actually giggled. I knew Janelle was a serious boss when she had to be, but these snippets of her letting loose and being funny rounded her out. She was more than a supervisor. She had become more of a friend, especially after that lunch we shared recently.

“...That’d be great,” she wrapped up. “Mmmkay?” She raised her brows. “How’d I do.”

I waffled my hand. “Well, you need glasses, for one thing. And a little more nasally drawl.”

Smiling, she continued walking me back to my office. “You’re fun, Heather.”

“I am?”

“Oh, stop.” In my office now, she drew in a deep breath. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. After our lunch that other day, a lot more about you makes sense. You didn’t have a stellar childhood, and that leaves scars.”

Wow. A boss, friend, and shrink in one. I hit the jackpot with her.

“But you can grow into something new in an old, familiar setting too.” She winked. “I think you already are. Not everyone here has the same opinions about you.”

“Some do,” I countered as I sat.

“Some do,” she agreed. “I notice the older generation does particularly, but that’s not shocking. The older you are, the harder it is to change your way of thinking.”

At the mention of the word old, I couldn’t help but think back to how I’d called Roarke old. He wasn’t, not in a derogatory way. He was older than me, but I viewed that more as a difference in experiences that we’d had in our lives so far. As a difference in his skills mastered and responsibilities earned.

“But I also see others not making a big fuss about you or acting like you’re some kind of small-town villain.”

I nodded, starting to feel uncomfortable about this spontaneously chosen topic between us.

“You’re hard on yourself.”

“Guilty as charged. I think I became a perfectionist from an early age when I wanted people to not assume I was like my parents.”

“Which is understandable.” She pushed off the doorframe she’d been leaning against. “But, I think you need to also cut yourself some slack. Keep your guard up, but also take the time to acknowledge the good in life too.”

I nodded once. “Very sage. And well said.”

“You must unlearn what you have learned,” Nance called out from further in the office suite.

“What?” I called back. She was clearly eavesdropping.

Janelle shook her head and shrugged.

“Yoda—”

I groaned. Of course, it’d be a Star Wars quote.

“She’s not wrong though,” Janelle said. “Unlearn the rigid independence you’ve taught yourself to survive on.”

“Yes, master,” I called out to Nance. “And may the force be with you too.”

Janelle laughed lightly. “Anyway, that project. You can add it into your schedule however you please.”

“Thanks, and I will.”

She left me with that, giving me the lack of supervision I enjoyed and what she preferred. Janelle was not a micromanager at all, unlike the stuffy supervisors, yes, plural, that I had to deal with in Chicago.

I didn’t let myself dwell on the contrast between my life here and the one I briefly had in Chicago. I’d drive myself nuts if I did. There, I was busy, busy, busy, where a FOMO drove an unrealistic work drive. Here, it was a slower, leisure pace. While I was excited to have new projects and a variety of tasks given to me by Janelle, it was still nothing like what I’d ever thought I’d be doing with my life.