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Elizabeth looked at the boxes sitting in her car. Once, they’d held reams of photocopy paper. Now they held her belongings. There weren’t many boxes, because she hadn’t kept much by way of personal items in her office. But something about having them there still made everything look sad and lonely. Frank standing behind her in the parking garage only made it feel worse.
“I really wish you weren’t taking this course of action,” he said with a rueful shake of his head. “You’ve been with us for almost twenty years. Do you realize what you’re throwing away, Elizabeth?”
As much as she wanted to say, “You’re right, I wish I wasn’t, either,” and take the safe route, she had to swallow the lie. It burned all the way down her throat, but the words that followed were true.
“I know, but I need to do this. I just don’t belong here anymore. People change, Frank. Twenty years – you said it. I’ve changed over that time.”
Frank grimaced, but nodded. Quitting wasn’t the only answer, but when Elizabeth had gone to her boss with a written request to scale back her workload to a specific number of accounts and hours per week, he’d turned her down. She explained her involvement in an outside endeavor and her trust in George as an adequate replacement for her, despite everything that had transpired between her and the junior analyst. Frank had insisted that, to the contrary, they couldn’t do without Elizabeth, that she was irreplaceable.
So Elizabeth tendered her resignation. There was no severance pay or package, no unemployment. Once she left the garage, there would be no turning back. She’d embark on a wildly chancy venture after this and giving up was not an option.
Of course, she’d planned out her exit as well as she could. At best, she could put all of her energy into her new project for up to six months before running out of money. Maybe stretch it to a year, if she cashed in some long-held bonds she’d received after her parents’ deaths. It wouldn’t be easy and she didn’t know how things would turn out.
All she knew for certain was that she had to do this, that the idea of freedom tugged at her with greater power than anything else, now. Being with Annabelle had changed her, for better or for worse, just as being with her had changed Annabelle.
She shook hands with Frank, who let out a gruff, “Come here, kid,” and pulled her into a fatherly hug. She supposed it made sense that he’d get a little emotional. He had trained her, after all, and watched her grow into a go-getting management consultant over nearly two decades.
“Thank you for everything,” she told him when she stepped back. “I’m grateful for all that you taught me, for taking me under your wing and pushing me to be the best. Now it’s time I fly on my own.”
“Bird and nest analogies. I hate those things.” Frank shook his head and let out a heavy sigh. “Go on then, Elizabeth. I understand. Your people await.”
And so they did. By the time she dropped off the boxes in her home office, changed her clothes from a suit to something more casual, and arrived at the pub, Danny and several of the faire’s main local players had assembled on the sofas and chairs.
“I think everyone is here,” Danny said after Elizabeth sat down, “so let’s get started. We know we want to make this happen. Hell, we’ve been talking about it for years. The question is how do we get from idea to execution?”
“Well, venue was the first big hurdle,” Elizabeth said, glancing around the room to see people nodding in agreement. “So do we have a list of likely possibilities since our last meeting?”
Danny held up a clipboard. “We have several at this time. The most desirable one is, of course, also the most expensive.”
“Are you still looking at the adjoining building?” someone asked.
“Yeah, and that’s the one at the very top of my list. The only problem is, it’s going to cost big bucks. If we rent, I can put up first, last, and security out of pocket, but the bad news is they’re giving preference to buyers. So even ponying up the large sum they need to rent, they might turn it down if they get an interested buyer.”
Elizabeth chewed at the inside of her cheek as she pondered Danny’s words. She knew to some extent how real estate worked. Like everything else she knew, it was just business, and these people knew the kind of business they wanted to do. Money talked and even the promise of a steady, reliable, paying tenant wasn’t as nice as just unloading something all at once, sometimes.
Throughout the meeting, they hashed over the options presented, as well as other various ideas for venues. The one immediately adjacent to the pub was really the most attractive option, since Danny was already familiar with the zoning and had done business in the same place for over thirty years. Adding on to his existing business was more logical than starting a new one from scratch. It was also the most expensive, exclusive one, considering the seller’s preferences, but it remained the best out of the ideas they had available to them.
Elizabeth agreed to work with Danny on securing a property. Her expertise in business made her a formidable negotiator. At the end of the meeting, everyone added more cash contributions to the collection they’d started earlier that week. Each player would take a role in helping make the dream a reality. They’d divided up the responsibilities for fundraising, marketing, and other tasks associated with the start-up. It would be hard – Elizabeth reminded them of that – but everyone was determined to succeed.
She leaned on the bar as the meeting dispersed and smiled when Danny gave her a Shirley Temple. “This one’s regular,” he assured her.
“Thanks, but I probably could have used a dirty one, considering things.” She turned the glass and stared at the red liquid.
“What’s going on?”
Elizabeth’s entire body folded as she heaved a sigh. “Everything is going on. I feel so different these days. Ever since I met Annabelle... No, even before that, I knew I was changing, but she just hammered it home for me that I wasn’t the same person I used to be.”
“None of us stay the same,” Danny said sagely. “I’m in my fifties and I feel like I change something major every few years. Researchers say our body replaces itself with a new set of cells every seven or so years. Hence, the seven year itch.”
“So it never ends. Great.” The glass was cool in her grasp as she brought it to her lips. Coming to the pub on her own used to be fun, but that was before Annabelle. Before she had someone to share this place with who actually wanted to be here with her.
And then there was the fact that she’d just turned her life upside-down to go all-in with Danny and his business. There was no telling when it would pay off, but it was a chance she had to take, something she had to devote all of her energy to if they were going to succeed.
“Speaking of which, where’s your lady-in-waiting? We haven’t seen her in over a week.”
“What are you, psychic?” Elizabeth set the glass back on the bar and tossed her hair. Danny’s question was the same one on her lips. Tomorrow night was Christmas Eve and she was starting to think it was going to be a very lonely night. “We’re taking a little time apart. She needed space.”
Danny’s brows drew together. “Do I want to know why?”
“Danny, I want to know why.” Elizabeth smacked her palm on the bar and, to her chagrin, felt tears spring to her eyes. “I thought everything was going just fine, that I had a handle on it. And she made it sound like she just had to do a little self-exploration, but I don’t know anymore. It’s been over a week since I saw her. There are so many things I have to tell her.”
“Like the fact that you basically just walked out on your job?”
Elizabeth nearly choked on her Shirley Temple as she laughed. “Yup, there’s that. It’s a pretty big deal.”
“Oh, poor Queen Elizabeth, everything is out of her control for once.”
Elizabeth scoffed and folded her arms. “Yeah. Tell me about it.”
“But, knowing you, it’ll all turn out just fine. I mean, it’s only been a week, and think about it – Annabelle is a lot younger than you. She probably meant it when she said she had to do some self-exploration. So take a deep breath. If you don’t hear from her, don’t worry. Just come to the pub tomorrow for the party. Trust me.” Danny winked at her and then turned away to serve another customer.
Everything will be fine? Sure it will.
It certainly didn’t feel that way, but Elizabeth didn’t want to contradict Danny. He meant well with his kind words and optimism. While he mixed a drink behind the bar, Elizabeth went back to sipping her Shirley Temple. The sweetness reminded her of the first time she’d brought Annabelle to the pub. It just wasn’t the same without her. Sure, she had plenty of friends here, but having Annabelle at her side made it that much better.
“You didn’t even bother to say goodbye to me.” The voice was familiar and cold, though not accusing, so much as wounded.
“Were you expecting a goodbye?” Elizabeth asked dryly. This wasn’t the person she hoped to see at the pub and she certainly wasn’t about to entertain yet another spoiled little rich girl scene.
George sank down onto the stool next to her. “Kind of, yeah. I’ve worked with you for a while, now. I thought I’d at least get something, but you gave me nothing.”
“Get used to it. And don’t feel bad. You’re not special. I didn’t tell anyone but Frank about my resignation, and you know company policy. The minute you quit, they want you gone. Gotta protect those company assets, you know.” Elizabeth shrugged. She knew every word out of her mouth sounded bitchy, but she didn’t care. Not after what George tried to do to her and Annabelle.
“Look, I’m sorry about everything that happened between us.” George shook her head and waved Danny away when he approached. “What I did was not just inappropriate, it was downright mean. I was jealous and it’s my own fault for never telling you how I felt.”
“Yes, it is,” Elizabeth agreed, draining the rest of her Shirley Temple. At this point, the idea of something harder was pretty appealing, so she waved Danny over and said, “Bring me a dirty one this time, and keep them coming.”
He nodded, shot George a questioning glance, and then turned away to mix the drink. If anyone would watch her back, it’d be Danny, so Elizabeth relaxed into her new role: unemployed and, perhaps, the new town drunk.
George tapped her red fingernails against the bar and Elizabeth almost laughed at how put-out she looked. “My point is,” George went on, “if I’d said something about how I felt about you, you might have chosen me instead.”
“Oh?” Elizabeth highly doubted that and she curled her fingers around the fresh drink Danny set before her.
“Yeah. Look at me.”
Elizabeth turned. She might as well oblige, since George seemed insistent on making a fool of herself. And George certainly was beautiful and worthy of a good woman, there was no denying that. She was slim and well put-together, her dark hair and eyes lovely.
But not as lovely as Annabelle.
“You can’t do much better than me, Elizabeth. I have a top notch education from an Ivy League college, I graduated with honors, and I know all the best people. We would make the perfect power couple,” George said, sounding almost desperate in her plea. In a way, Elizabeth could sympathize with her. The attraction on her part was obviously sincere.
“George, there is no doubt in my mind that you’re right about some of those things,” she said. “Specifically, those would be things about you, not me. Unfortunately, the way you went about telling me your feelings was just the final nail in the coffin. Even before then, it would have never been you.”
“What? Why?” The tone of George’s voice had changed to a whine. It grated on Elizabeth’s nerves, just like everything else about her did lately.
The why was so easy to answer, that it was almost cruel to put it out there. But Elizabeth did just that. “Here’s the straight-up truth: I’ve dated your kind before and you’re all the same.” Elizabeth leaned toward George and repeated again, emphasizing each word. “All the same. The only thing special about you is that you’re just like everyone else, which does absolutely nothing for me. Your sister has unique qualities. She’s not a lemming.”
George’s lower lip trembled, but Elizabeth didn’t regret her words for an instant. Instead, she plowed onward. Maybe it was her newfound freedom that gave her the spirit to tell George what she really thought, or maybe it was the liquid courage in the glass between her hands. Either way, she wanted only two things right now – George out of her life and Annabelle back in it.
“Gosh, wasn’t it better when I was keeping my personal life separate from my professional life? No need to do that now, though, so I guess you get to hear what I really think.” For once, Elizabeth relished letting her feelings do the talking, instead of her usual calm, cool logic. “Annabelle makes me feel alive. She understands me. No one else ever could, least of all you. So move along, George. I choose your sister.”
She saw the way George’s hands clenched against the bar, the way her skin flushed with embarrassment. But she didn’t regret it for an instant.
The only thing Elizabeth regretted was that she had gone even one moment longer without Annabelle.