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We won’t stay much longer.
You are the worst mom in the world!
I know, Andygram. Now take twenty-five breaths for me…
Andy took the breaths, inhaling and exhaling in a slow controlled rhythm just as she’d learned to do so many years ago. It kind of helped.
With a brisk wipe at her eyes, Andy rose and grabbed the mop. Another thing she’d learned to do when she got really upset was to channel the angry energy into something productive. Like violently scrubbing a tile floor.
After several furious passes, Andy’s arm muscles burned, but at least she felt a measure of calm.
Stowing the cleaning supplies, she walked back out to her department. A glance at the sun clock revealed she’d been “cleaning” the bathroom for nearly an hour. As Andy’s gaze took a slow tour of the store, it occurred to her that not one of her coworkers had noticed her absence. All of them were going about their business, oblivious to the fact that she’d just had the proverbial rug pulled out from under her.
She’d always known her boss was the lazy sort. The kind who worked little and delegated often, but that had never bothered her much because she’d at least thought she had his support. Now, it was abundantly clear she did not. Did she have anyone’s? Or did all her coworkers just think of her as the CEO’s daughter? Did they all think she’d moved up the ranks because of her name?
But she had, hadn’t she? Dave was only promoting her to store manager because of it. And it stood to reason that was why he’d moved her up to assistant manager only a year after her first job interview. Which she’d probably only been granted in the first place because she’d put Whittenbalm on the application.
Hello. My name is Andalise Rhodes Whittenbalm. There are twenty-five letters in my name.
Whittenbalm, Whittenbalm, Whittenbalm.
Jesus. How many people had she said that to? And how many of those had thought she was bragging more about who her father was than the stupid number of letters in her name? Probably quite a few.
God, she’d been so naive. Her entire career was a sham.
On the heels of this realization came another. One that had Andy jerking to a stop at the end of the camping aisle she’d been pacing.
Career?
Was running a ManCave Outfitters store really what she wanted to do for a career? Yes, it was a good job — asshole boss notwithstanding — but was it really what she wanted to do for the rest of her life?
Kory had her job at Rockabilly’s, but she also had a career goal beyond that. She had aspirations to write and illustrate her own series of graphic novels. Her art was her passion. Her calling.
Andy stared blankly at the display she’d stocked. What washerpassion?Hercalling?
The truth was she had no idea.
But she did know this wasn’t it.
It wasn’t putting together bug spray displays and working graveyard inventories while her boss and coworker stood around shooting the shit.
Just as they were doing now. Andy’s eyes narrowed on the pair of them as they hung out in HomeCave watching the latest James Bond movie.
That’s when another thought hit her. This one so loud and incessant in her head that her feet were compelled to move before she could talk herself out of it.
I wanna go home. I wanna go home.
“I wanna go home.” It burst from her the second she drew within earshot. Which, unfortunately — in front of the blaring TVs — was about three feet from her smelly boss.
“Sorry, Andy. We were just testing a new sound bar.” Dave jabbed at a remote. “I didn’t catch that.”
“I’m going home,” Andy said more decisively.
“Oh?” Dave pushed up his glasses, adopting a concerned expression as he studied her. “Are you not feeling well?”
“Not particularly.”
“Would you like to tell me what’s wrong?”
