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XENIA GRIGGS
People always thinkmy name is Xena, like the princess warrior from the TV show. I wish I could be so fearless. In my head, the “Xena” part of me claimed all her dreams and never held back. That version of me has traveled the world, eaten the wildest foods, and seen the most exciting sights. She’s loved many men and known the hottest pleasure. Xena laughs often, faces her insecurities, and hasn’t wasted a moment in her life.
Unfortunately, Xena is just a figment of my imagination while Xenia steers my life.
After nearly two decades of waiting for my moment to shine, I’ve reached the painful conclusion that I’m a failure.
As a child, I dreamed of running a dining empire. As a young woman, I hoped for a few small restaurants to allow me to explore my culinary interests. By the age of thirty, I only dreamed of a restaurant of my own.
With my inheritance turning out smaller than I imagined, I’m forced to simplify my dreams. No country home with a garden. No traveling before settling down. No makeover to give my thirty-seven-year-old spinster ass a shot at romance.
My dream has whittled down to XYZ Coffee, where I sell cupcakes and deli sandwiches.
I take in the sight of my shop—the hanging lights, the earthy colored walls, the high, narrow wooden table with stools at the front window, the banquette seating along a side wall, and locally bought eclectic artwork. Sammi Smith plays over the sound system. XYZ Coffee is just like the pictures in my head.
But the shop is a bust financially.
I’ve come to accept how moving to McMurdo Valley was probably a mistake. I didn’t know the town. I have no contacts here. I chose wrong.
As a young woman, I enjoyed a rare vacation and traveled with my parents across this state. We stopped in McMurdo Valley for lunch. When I stood in the steakhouse’s parking lot and looked out at the breathtaking beauty around me, I felt as if I was witnessing a glimpse of heaven.
That was more than a decade ago. During that time, I never visited again, afraid to ruin my fantasy. If I were stronger, I’d have faced reality long ago. However, to keep my dreams intact, I hid from the truth.
McMurdo Valley hasn’t offered me the hoped-for bounty. XYZ Coffee is a bust. Yet, every morning, I write my daily pastry special on a chalkboard out front. I bake treats as if today will be when the town discovers what I can offer. After I close up on another failed day, I drop the unbought baked goods at the local senior center.
This afternoon, just before closing, I admit my dream is dying. The tears I’ve fought for weeks now rush forward. I’ve wasted my life.
I should walk away now. Just close my door and stop wasting money on food no one will buy. I could find a job and still build a life in McMurdo Valley.
Crying alone in my shop, I consider my life up until this point. How many opportunities did I give up to play the dutiful daughter? My parents promised I would have my own restaurant one day. They swore I had time to find a husband and create a family of my own. I just needed to remain loyal.
So, I spent most of my waking hours working at their restaurants, struggling to keep their empire afloat. I rarely dated. I never put myself first. There was always time. I had to think long term.
What do I have to show for that loyalty? My parents didn’t leave me sole control of their estate like they promised. I had to share it with my siblings who never stuck around or gave up anything.
“You were always our favorite,” my mom said before the vacation that claimed my parents’ lives. “You were the one we could depend on.”
Yet, I got the same as the “selfish” kids who “disappointed” them.
Sobbing now, I hide in the corner behind the counter. I gave up everything for my parents’ dreams. I’d been too weak to tell them no. I kept holding out hope that when they were gone, I’d get my chance to soar.
My parents knew I was depending on my inheritance to support myself. Their restaurant empire fell apart at the end. My father couldn’t keep up with trends. My mother insisted on pointless remodels.
However, I never complained. I always held my tongue.I was the good daughter.While my siblings went out and enjoyed their lives, I played Cinderella for my parents.
Wiping my wet cheeks, I do the math in my head. If I close the shop tomorrow, I’ll be out on the lease money. There’s no way to go back and fix that mistake. I was still back in Nevada when I signed the paperwork, having trusted the realtor’s advice on the best location.
If I take what I have left, I can start over. Give up on my dream of the coffee shop. It was dumb anyway. Why would anyone come here when they can get coffee at a drive-thru?
Like my father, I hadn’t paid attention to how the world changed around us.
I still thought like the twenty-year-old woman with big dreams. Back then, I planned to reinvent myself as a fearless princess warrior. Nothing would keep me from experiencing life.
Instead, my parents promised if I stuck around a few years longer, they’d pay for culinary school. I could get my own place. Just not yet.Never right now but soon.
I threw away my one life! That’s the thought I’m screaming in my head when I’m startled from my self-pity by the shop’s ringing front bell.
I don’t know how long I’ve been hiding back here. My face is no longer wet. I’m unsure how messy I might look. It doesn’t matter. I just need to stand up before the possible customer walks away.
