Page 1 of Unexpected Adventures
Chapter One
“What’s this party all about? And why am I just now hearing about it?”
“Because I knew you’d protest, Abby. And guess what? You are!”
“I’m not really protesting, Denise. I just thought we were going to have some quality sister-time. You know, you and me … just the two of us?”
My baby sister reaches over and gives my hand a quick squeeze. “Just sit back and relax, and I’ll tell you all about it. It’s going to be a blast!”
“Uh, huh,” I half-heartedly grumble.
I am a twenty-eight-year-old introvert, who’s constantly being nudged to try new things and break out of my shell. Well, this shell has protected me just fine so far, and I’m perfectly happy with my life. That’s not to say I don’t have my share of fun––I just prefer that it not be in the company of dozens of people.
Being the oldest of four siblings, I guess I’ve always had this inherent trait to be the responsible one and make sure everyone toed the line. Especially me. Lead by example, and all that. And even though I’ve been out on my own for a while, I still feel that pull. I’m a meticulous planner who likes control, order, and routine. Denise, on the other hand, being the baby, was always somewhat of a wild child who threw caution to the wind. She could practically get away with murder. Okay, maybe not murder, but darn close.
Between us are the twins, Beckham and Claire. After a stint in local theater—where they did quite well, I might add—they left for the bright lights of Broadway in New York City. A few successful productions unfortunately didn’t outshine the many disastrous choices over the years, and no matter how much positive mojo I tried to send their way, their situation didn’t seem to be improving. But that’s another story for another time.
So, here I am visiting Denise down in Mountain View, California, to celebrate her promotion at Google. Yes, she works atGoogle,of all places. Promoted at twenty-four, she has surprised us all with her maturity and drive. Being a brainiac and a real go-getter has brought her great accomplishments, so kudos to her.
After arriving at Denise’s condo, thinking the celebration was going to be just the two of us chilling with some drinks, she quickly proceeded to redress me and shove me out the door. It wasn’t until we were in the car––after cleverly saying she’d drive, as she knew the way––did she then explain about the party. And apparently a tank top, yoga pants, and my well-worn Asics weren’t appropriate apparel for this shindig. It being August, I wanted to dress for cool comfort on my drive. Now I’m wearing my capris, one of her peasant blouses, and a pair of her sandals.
“So, my co-worker, Sherri, decides just today to throw a party,” Denise starts.“And she’s got a killer home in the Los Altos Hills. She’s been with Google for five years and does marketing. She’s got a great husband, Jeff, who’s a pilot. No kids, but the most adorable dogs.She does a lot of her work from home so she can devote time to them. Every once in a while, she’ll bring them into the office when she has to make a quick trip. Distracts us to no end. Jim doesn’t mind, though… Jim, he’s the boss of our division.”
I marvel at how Denise can rattle on and on, not missing a beat while negotiating through the traffic. I live in San Francisco, a very busy place for sure, but normally I walk or take public transportation. Navigating it myself is an entirely different animal. I’m certainly glad she’s driving through the twists and turns of these hills and neighborhoods. Although I should be paying better attention, because I know I’ll end up becoming Designated Driver, it’s impossible to keep track of it all. Thank goodness for the map app on my smartphone. Which, wouldn’t you know it, is powered by Google.
“We’re celebrating not only my promotion, but a few other people’s as well,” Denise continues. “And when she announces a party, no one wants to miss it. Tons of great people will be there. Sherri’s the most gracious woman. Ipromiseyou’ll have a great time.”
I should’ve known better than to think my visit would be low-key.
“Uh, huh,” I repeat. “If not, I’ll run off to play with the dogs.”
“Abbs,” Denise whines.
“Kidding.” Well, maybe not. I often do much better with animals than with most people.“Anyway, tell me about your promotion. What is it you’re doing now?”
“I’m Jim’s assistant, actually. He’s head of marketing and online sales. Sherri has been grooming me for this job under Jim. I mean as Jim’sassistant,” she quickly adds with nervous laughter. “He’s a great guy! You’ll meet him tonight.”
“Are you okay? You seem nervous. Does your boss make you nervous? Is this Jim a demanding ogre of a boss?”
“Oh no! He’s great. Really, really great!”
“Alrighty then.” I continue to watch her driving, trying to keep my bearings in this unfamiliar territory. “So, you really like what you’re doing? You’re happy, Denise?”
She smiles at me briefly before turning her attention back to the road. “I’m happy, Abbs. I’ve found my direction and it is full-steam ahead.”
“Good for you.”
“And what about you? Areyouhappy? Doing anything new lately?”
“I took a second job as a dog walker.”
“Whoa, sis. You’d better slow down. Are you sure you can handle all that excitement?”
I look to her as she grins, causing me to laugh. “Smart ass.”
Denise teases me mercilessly about my reluctance for putting myselfout there. Like I said, order and routine. And while I never had the academic drive she did, I drifted through community college and did a decent job with my studies. During my quest to find my purpose, I came across an advertisement for becoming a Visiting Angel. No, I’m not a Heavenly being sent to Earth to complete a mission of epic proportions… or am I?
Ha-ha. As if. Hardly. I provide living assistance to seniors in their homes.
