Page 100 of Just a Plot Twist
Mayor Whitten’s office is a shrine to all fish that ever lived, and his head is a vessel for every fishing story that ever happened.
At times, I tune him out because my thoughts are on my grandmother. I ache to fix this, to help her somehow. But when I think of her future, fear zips across my skin, and I force away the thoughts of what things might be like for her moving forward.
Grandpa called Sophie last night after helping Grandma to bed. She came right over and we cried it out. We ordered memory journals online—one for each of us to write down all the memories of our grandparents as they come up. Not sure if that’s more for them or for us, but either way, it feels right.
And then we played rummy, like old times. And cried some more.
The mayor called me into his office several minutes ago. I’m afraid I might know what for.
As if to match my dour mood, the sinking feeling tells me it’s going to be a no. He’s going to tell me the council (because of his recommendation) has chosen Rich. And all these fishing stories are his way of delaying having to tell me the bad news.
My hard heart stones up even more firmly, shackling itself to my ribcage in an iron trap of protection.
I can’t say I’m surprised. I figured this might happen.
But fresh devastation starts to filter in. I wanted this job because I wanted to serve Longdale. Now that Rich has it, what will I do? I’m not going to stay on as the assistant. That would require me working with Rich every single day and I’m not going to do that.
I’m startled by the mayor’s big grin. When did he finish his fishing tale? And why is he smiling? Isn’t that a little unkind?
He sticks out his hand across the table. “Congrats and all that jazz!” he says. I take it, numbly.
Huh?
“We’d like you to get started as manager yesterday if possible. With Inez gone, things have been piling up.”
Wait, what?
I allow myself a tenuous smile as I accept his proffered hand. “If I could find a time machine, I certainly would,” I manage.
He laughs as I clear my throat. Is this real? I’m Longdale’s city manager for real? Why was the mayor stalling with the fishing stories?
Oh, he probably wasn’t stalling, he was just excited to tell me his stories!
My excitement is tempered by a wave of fear. I have so much work to do.
After discussing salary and other details, Mayor Whitten stands and so I do, too. “Thanks for this opportunity,” I tell him.
“I would say we need to train you on everything, but honestly, you’ve pretty much learned everything already.”
I shrug, finally finding my smile. “I have. But I’ll make sure and go over everything with a fine-tooth comb!”
I leave his office, my legs rubbery. This is it. The moment I’ve been dreaming of for years. Since I started working for the city, this is what I’ve been shooting for. This is how I help Longdale the most.
I’m not happy…yet. I’m sure I will be, but last night’s news and all that I explained to my grandparents are weighing heavily. Besides, I miss Benson. I ache to tell him everything, and I don’t know if I can.
I lock myself in my office and, because it’s easier, I video call Inez first.
“Take that, Rich, you snivelly, conniving, smelly old—” Inez says over the phone. She balances a baby—I think it’s Raya—on one shoulder so she can raise her glass of orange juice in a toast.
“Okay, okay, these walls are paper thin, Inez.”
“I’m happy for you,” she says in a defensive tone. “There’s no one better to continue where I left off. You did it, Claire!”
“Are you ever sad that you’re not coming back?”
A pause. And then, “Sometimes.” She sets her orange juice on the table, causing her phone to slide and flip, camera side down. She rights the phone and pats Raya’s back. “When I was pregnant, I had big doubts about my choice to leave the job. And I’ll likely go back to work in one capacity or another someday. But the moment I first saw my daughters, nothing mattered but my little family. Everything changed in an instant.”
I wipe a tear from under my eye. My throat is too thick to speak.
