Mimi nods, like the answer is correct, but not nearly complete. “And why do you want to go home?”
A million possible answers float through my brain, but I didn’t make partner at thirty-four by blurting out the first thing that comes into my head when questioned. “I want to be there for my grandmother.” Another not-lie that certainly doesn’t tell the whole truth.
It’s not hard to tell that Mimi is not being won over. She crosses her arms over her chest. “Okay then.”
The breath catches in my chest. That was almost too easy. A wide smile spreads across my face and I clap my hands together. “Amazing! What do I need to do? Click my heels together three times and whisperthere’s no place likehome? Let me know what I need to do, and we can get this done today, right now, the sooner the better!”
Mimi’s tinkling laugh echoes through the café. “Oh, dear. No. There’s no way you’re going anywhere today.”
I freeze in my seat. I’d been about to leap from the chair and rush out of the coffee shop, ready to put this madness behind me. “What do you mean?”
“Exactly what I said. You’re not going anywhere today.”
If I’m not mistaken, her tone is verging on threatening and one thing I do not take well is threats. “Look, Mimi, I don’t know who died and made you old lady Jesus, but if you think you can just trap me here in this hell hole, you’ve got another think coming.” I slap down my palm on the bright yellow table. “Do you know who my grandmother is? She has taken down adversaries way more formidable than the freaking mayor of Heart Bumfuck Nowhere Springs and she will sue your ass and take you for everything you’ve got.”
Mimi sits quietly for a minute, not at all cowed by my tirade. “Are you done?”
The unfamiliar feeling of shame heats my cheeks, but I don’t let it rattle my voice, don’t let it shake my resolve. “I just want to go home. Tell me what I need to do to get home.”
Mimi’s lips curl up in what can only be described as a smirk, and my, how the tables have turned. “It’s only three things, really.”
“Three things? Easy. Spell it out for me and I can knock out this shit and be back home for a tasty takeout dinner.”
“Number one: you must find a career you are passionate about.”
I sit back in my chair, crossing my arms over my chest.“Done. No one could say I’m not passionate about my career.” I think we have well established it’s my only passion.
Mimi purses her lips. “Let me clarify. I don’t just mean a career you are good at, one you are successful in, or thrive at. I mean a career you really, truly care about. One that brings you joy and fulfillment.”
“I made partner at thirty-four. I’m fulfilled as fuck.”
She raises her eyebrows in a hint of a challenge. “Number two: you must become a valued member of the community.”
“I take on at least one pro bono case a year. That has community value.” The statement sounds defensive and weak, even to my own ears, but really, how much time can I be expected to devote to helping others when my job demands my full and complete attention? “Okay, fine. I can bust out some community service.” Or throw some money at the problem and make it quicker and easier for all involved. “What’s the last thing? Hit me with your worst.”
The grin that spreads across her face is nothing short of gleeful and I know whatever is coming next is not good. “You need to experience true love.”
The second her words sink in, I burst out laughing. The laughter overwhelms me, consumes me; I bend over at the force of it, clutching my sides.
When I finally get a hold of myself, I sit up straight in my seat and level Mimi with a glare. “Yeah, that’s not going to happen.” One would presumably need to believe in love in order to fall into it.
Based on the sheer mass of media I consumed yesterday, this demand shouldn’t come as a surprise—it’s one of the themes that linked all the movies I watched. But really,no one in their right mind can expect me to give up my whole life for a man. I don’t like to think of there being anything in the world—real or imagined—that I can’t do, but falling in love might be the one thing on the list. I’ve seen firsthand the results of “true love”—it’s how my mom ended up a single mother who never lived up to her full potential.
Mimi gives me a helpless shrug. “I guess you’re going to be in Heart Springs for quite some time then.” Her smile is calm, totally pleasant, never once dropping even as I give her my best stare down.
Am I one to back down from a fight? No.
Do I fully understand where I am or how I got here or what even this place really is other than my own personal ninth circle? No.
Do I see any way out of this mess that doesn’t involve pushing straight through? Also no.
Sure, I could go back to my house and march in the opposite direction from the one I took two days ago. I could walk until my thighs officially turn to jelly and I collapse on the pristine sidewalk. I could burrow down underneath a comforter that has no business being as cozy and temperature controlled as it is (somehow I managed to stay both pleasantly cool and cuddly warm) and refuse to come out of the house until I’m magically reunited with my blackout curtains and designer wardrobe.
But something tells me neither of those options are going to yield me the results I’m looking for.
And so, the decision is really a simple one. If I must go along with these wholesome, heartfelt shenanigans in order to get back to where I belong, then that’s what I’m goingto do. How hard can it be to fool a bunch of not-real people into believing I’m buying into their small-town Hallmark bullshit? I’ll just put on a happy face, find a career I “love,” whip up a couple of pies for the school bake sale, and convince one of the bumpkins the town is sure to throw at me that I’m totally into him.
“Okay.” I manage not to choke on the single word controlling the fate of my entire existence.
