“I’m feeling this bob. I am. But Bey’s moved on from this style. And so shouldyou.”
“Oh, well in thatcase.”
“Are you okay?” Claudia asks, patting myknee.
“Yeah. Thanks, you guys. I feel better.” I let out a deep breath. I still feel a little crazy, but the tightness in my chest is starting to ease. “I’m going to quit my job. I don’t like my colleagues or the partners. I don’t like my clients. One of them fucking tried to kill me. I sure as hell don’t like the work, not enough to put my damn life in danger. And not enough to be this bored and unhappy. There is no reason for me tostay.”
“Exactly!” Rayna says. “Quit thatjob.”
“Quit that job,” Brooklynadds.
“Quit that job,” Claudia throws in for good measure and then pretty soon all four of them are chanting. “Quit that job! Quit that job! Quit that job! Quit thatjob!”
They don’t stop until I start laughing and then they are all hugging me. “We love you, bitch,” Brooklynsays.
“I love youguys.”
“Good,” Rayna says as they give me space. We gab for a few more minutes. Brooklyn has more opinions on my shitty hair style. Finally we ask the sweet, beyond patient goddesses of the spa back in to finish our massage session. I’m gonna quit my job, I think to myself as Salina’s hands make their way through the knots in my shoulders. I’m going to quit my job. I’m going to figure out what I want. I’m going to figure out what makes me happy. It’s going to take some time, some work and the support of some fucking good friends—and a pain in the ass sister— but I’m going to make itwork.
* * *
November
“Just give me one,”Brooklyn says. I smack her hand away as she reaches over my shoulder and tries to go for the large plastic container in mylap.
“Mufucka, if you don’t—you ate almost all of my test batches and I made you your ownbatch.”
“Listen. Didn’t no one tell you to start making the most bomb ass donuts New York has everseen.”
“Well these aren’t for you, sorelax.”
“Okay, we’re almost there,” Noasays.
“Thanks for driving,” I tellher.
“Of course. But if this all works out, you’re gonna have to get your license,boo.”
“If.”
“Don’t worry. It will,” Noa says. “Just let him taste thosedonuts.”
I’ve thought a lot of things. Had some good cries with my therapist. I’ve quit my job. The first week was scary, but as soon as I caught up on sleep and got my ass in the kitchen, I knew I’d made the right decision. Only one piece wasmissing.
“Your destination is on the left. McInroy’s Apple Farm,” the GPS announces in her roboticvoice.
“Here we are,” Noa adds. We turn down the road in the rental SUV she was kind enough to sign out for us for the weekend. We pull into the main entrance of the farm and it feels so strange to be back. To see the whole property stretching out in front of me. It’s late in the season, but it’s a crisp Saturday afternoon and the sun is out. The place ispacked.
“There should be parking up there on the left,” I tell Noa. Silas is standing right where I’m pointing. “Oh fuck. That’s him.” Silas is less than twenty feet in front of us, walking toward thecannery.
“Hot damn!” Brooklynsays.
“Okay, the drive was totally worth it,” Noa adds as she slows the car to a stop right in the middle of the lane. “He’s fine. Well there he is.Go.”
“Wait, Ijust—”
“Girl! What are you waiting for?! Go!” Brooklyn says. She gives me a shove on theshoulder.
“Yeah, go!” Noa says. “We’ll park andwait.”