I spot the red balloons tied to the pole and yell, “The party’s in that building! Those balloons mean party! Pull over.”
Cliff claps his hands on the steering wheel. “Thanks for cracking that code there.”
I smile shakily. “Sorry. I’m a bit nervous. But not the bad kind of nervous! But some kind. I want everyone in the room to think I’m so cool and humble and wonderfully funny. Just casually, though: the winner ex-employee prodigal daughter doth return to the motherland Supershops retirement party.”
Cliff gives me that special look he reserves just for situations when he’s truly tired of my shit but in a good way. “So, okay. Just reasonable stuff then?”
I fall back against the car seat, looking out the window at the giant brick building with all its big windows. It looks kind of like a high school. “I kid, obviously. But I haven’t seen them in so long, you know? And even though none of this will matter, it also does matter.”
Cliff nods, putting the car in park. “I totally get it. But you’ll do great.”
He reaches for my hand that’s sitting on the console and gives it a squeeze. I squeeze it back.
I keep his hand in mine as we go through the double doors of the community center and follow the glossy signs on the wall toward the gymnasium. As we approach, I hear tinny music blaring from speakers. There’s a hand-painted banner strung over the door that reads: Happy Retirement, Rhonda.
When we walk in, the unfortunate first thing I see is Gregory salivating over the buffet table, hands in pockets. He’s wearing the same Supershops-branded polo and khakis as always. After everything that went down at the office and Cliff’s scathing report to corporate, there was a formal investigation, and Gregory was sent to mandatory harassment training. Even still, he’s holding himself with the same Big Boss energy he used to. I guess some things never change.
The urge to turn around and run right back through the doors tugs at me.
Cliff runs his thumb over my wrist. “You good?” he whispers.
“Yes,” I say, nodding. And I take another step into the room. A poorly taped spiral streamer falls from the ceiling and lands before my feet. I shake my head. “My Morale Booster replacement needs to get their shit together, I see.”
“Jolene!” a voice calls. And Miley comes barreling over, mousy hair bouncing against her shoulders. She’s getting so tall these days; she’s wearing the shirt with the movie logo I bought her last year, but already the hem is looking a bit high on her. She tilts her head to Cliff, eyes wide and excited. “Hello, Jolene’s boyfriend.” Then turns to me: “Rhonda just told me you started a war on Christmas one year.”
Cliff guffaws.
“We found peace.” I shake my head, slapping his shoulder. “How are you?”
She flips her hair back. She looks so confident, her head held high. “Oh, you know, the stoop is good. It misses you. But otherwise, fine.”
I grin. “We need to catch another movie soon. You around next weekend?”
“Ooh, yes!” But then she frowns. “But next weekend I’ve got a sleepover party. And the week after, Rhonda asked if I can help set up early for crochet club.” She pulls out her phone, looking disturbingly like Anna the office manager as she taps at her screen with pursed lips. “Let me get back to you and I’m sure we can schedule something . . .”
Just as I’m coming to terms with getting stiffed by a teenager, two arms tug at me, pulling me around and scooping me straight into a generous bosom. “You came!” Rhonda’s arms hold me tight against her chest, rocking me from side to side. “It’s so great to see you!”
She releases me, and it’s amazing to see how bright her face is. Another year has gone by, but somehow she seems younger.
I nudge her shoulder. “So, retirement. Never thought I’d see the day.”
After I was fired and Armin quit, it was determined that Rhonda’s position was necessary. I was so relieved when I finally called her and found out she was still employed. Her smile reaches the corners of her eyes, creasing the bright green eyeshadow. “Things have gotten so busy. I just couldn’t be bogged down by work anymore.”
Miley pipes in. “She’s running three classes now.”
“And training my star pupil to teach one,” Rhonda says, her whole face glowing as she looks at Miley. “We just got approved for a permanent spot at this community center. We submitted all the applications virtually.” A blush tinges her cheeks.
“That’s amazing. I’m really happy for you Rhonda.”
That’s when Gregory comes stomping up to us, hands jiggling his junk until his very marinated fingers emerge from his pockets and find their final resting point on Cliff’s back to thwack it. “Who let this guy in? I’ve got half a mind to get some bouncers in here. Damn thorn in my side.” His voice has that aggressively amiable tone that only he can pull off.
I can’t help the huff I let out. I’m trying to grow as a person, but there are exceptions when it comes to certain people.
“Not a thorn.” Cliff smiles stiffly, and his fingers twitch against mine. “Just helping some employees get their basic rights met.”
Gregory’s attention draws past him toward me. As much as I thought I’d evolved past caring about this horrible man’s presence, I curl away. “Jolene! All right there? No more issues?” A glint of spit is caught on the corner of his mouth.
Just a little bit louder than a whisper I say to Cliff, “Too bad you quit before Greg got put in those HR sessions. That would have been fun!”
Gregory’s face turns into a pomegranate as he backs away and spots Robin Winters. “Robin! You got your steps in there?”
Cliff shakes his head with a small grin. “Chaotic of you.”
I lean against his arm, resting my head against his shoulder. “You’re going to have to clean that shirt where Gregory patted you. He touches his penis a lot.”
Cliff’s nose scrunches with disgust. “I’ll find us some drinks. Grapefruit soda?”
I fight the instinct to stop him from ditching me and nod, releasing his hand.
Just as he walks off, I realize I’m doing pretty okay so far, standing right here, alone in a room with people who are looking at me, even though I’m still not sure what to do with my hands.
I search for a familiar face and spot Armin talking to a group of people in a corner. I take a step in his direction—only to realize I recognize the back of the blond head standing to his right. My skin pulls tight. Cliff had warned me that Caitlin might come today. I’ve overthought what I’d say if I saw her about a trillion times—had several chats with my therapist, asked Cliff every detail about his union work interactions with her—yet nothing has prepared me for the flash in her eyes when she turns around, like she can sense me watching her. She was always good at that.
Armin turns too and sees me. He whispers in Caitlin’s ear before coming toward me. “Jolene! Great to see you! How’s everything going?”
I grin politely while keeping one eye on Caitlin, who’s already moved on to chat with Gregory. “Things are decent, a little stressful. I’ve got finals next week, so my whole life is basically studying right now. But I’m enjoying it.”
I mean it. Training to be a youth counselor has fulfilled me more than anything else in my adult life. It’s the perfect combo: I can genuinely help people and know I’m doing something that matters, which is what I was so desperately craving for so long.
“You’ll do amazing,” he says. Then the slightest wrinkle forms under his eyes. “And thanks for sending the latifeh last month.”
My throat dries. Last month was the anniversary of his mom’s death. I pull him into a side hug, and he leans against my shoulder. “Of course. How’s your dad holding up?”
He pulls back, rubbing the back of his neck. “Eh, he’s mostly good. Asked about you recently. I told him you’re in school for counseling, and he’s more confused than ever.”
I slap my hand onto my forehead. “The poor man.”
I don’t notice Caitlin sidling toward us until she’s directly in front of me. The song on the speakers fades away, a beat of silence falling around us, and my hands clench against my will. I shouldn’t be scared of her.
She taps Armin on the arm. “Do you mind if I have a word with Jolene?”
Armin nods, giving me an encouraging nod before he walks away.
My skin flushes as I look toward my feet.
I feel her take a step closer. Her pointy heels enter my vision. My gaze trails up to her floral skirt and then to her French-manicured hands, twitching against her hips. But it’s the lack of ring on her finger that snags me.
Caitlin speaks first. “I left him about a month after.”
I keep my eyes down. “That’s really good.”
There’s a long, uncomfortable beat where we just stand there. But I don’t know what to say.
Finally, she breaks the silence. “I’m sure you don’t want me to say sorry or to thank you, after everything, I should probably leave you be, but anyway—sorry, and thanks.”
As I let the words sink in, I release a relieved breath. Not because I needed to hear this, but because I realize I didn’t. I look up and meet her eyes. She’s shorter than I remember her.
“Caitlin, it’s okay.”
She nods and looks down, a small tremble in her fingers.
So I continue: “It must have been hard, not to mention scary. I can understand why you did what you did. I can understand feeling like you had no choice.” She nods again shakily, but I can tell she’s holding herself together. “And I’m so sorry about reading your emails and messing with your job. I truly am.”
Moisture shines in the corners of her eyes. She dares a tiny smile as she quietly mouths, “Thank you,” then dabs her eyes with a tissue from her purse.
“Congrats on the promotion, by the way. Cliff told me.” My smile is genuine.
Her eyes lock on to mine, a little steadier. “I appreciate it.”
“Also, I should thank you too.”
“For what?”
“For helping me lose that job.”
She blinks at me, then a high-pitched cackle escapes her. It’s the same cackle that set me on edge for so many years, but now it’s kind of nice to hear.
“Truly.” I look around the community center, at all these familiar faces. “I never would’ve left otherwise. And for me that would’ve been tragic.”
She smiles again shyly. “I’m happy you’re doing well.”
“Caitlin!” We both turn to spot Garret waving a hand at her from across the “dance floor” that I’m worried people will start using. “Come try this and tell me if it tastes like the wings from the Unicorn!”
I laugh. “See you around.”
She smiles once more and walks away.
Alone with nobody to talk to at a party once again, I fall back against the bleachers. I sit down and pull out my phone to stop from appearing too tragic.
Three messages from my mom popped up in the last ten minutes.
Mom: Are you sleeping at Cliff’s again? When are you going to move in with him?
Mom: They say don’t give the milk for free but we need to sample it too. But still save your money just in case.
Mom: Mind you he’s tall and not cheap so he’s good.
I grin and throw my phone back into my bag. I kind of adore her texts now. It’s easier to see the love—it’s clearer now.
Cliff squeezes through the crowd and sits down beside me. He’s managed to balance two red Solo cups and a plate filled with snacks. “The donuts are decent. They’re not, like, premium quality, but for a community center party funded by Supershops, they’re pretty good.” He pauses. “Why are you looking at me like that? Everything okay?”
“Yeah,” I whisper. “I really am.”
I stare at the entire party, at these miscellaneous work weirdos. I know too much about them in the absurd way that basically living with people in an office for forty hours a week always is. It’s incredible. And awful. Yet deep affection for every single one of them swells in my chest. I was so lucky to have crossed paths with them for a time.
Except it’s more than that. I take a breath and the smile comes easily. I think about the person I was when I worked there, but I can’t find her. And that feels like power, after all.
Somebody in this crowd might be saying something bad about me behind my back. I’ll do something, somewhere, out of pettiness soon. Somebody might be keeping a secret from me, and it might hurt to find out. But I’m more interested in the parts that people want to show me.
And right now, that’s all I can see.