No, Megs.That familiar feel of her heart racing in her chest—her eyes dilating to the size of saucers. This had preceded every single one of her terrible decisions to date. Excitement over an opportunity didn’t equal positive results. In fact, in her world, it was usually the opposite.
Megs had lost all trust in herself, and rightly so. That rush in her head. The bloom of energy in her chest. All of it led to one thing: failure. And the idea of adding one more ofthoseto the pile made her want to throw up the bagel sandwich she'd eaten on her lunch break.
She closed her eyes and drew a deep breath.Megs wouldn't win this competition.She'd never done any voice-over work before, mostly because she didn't have a home studio, and these days, everyone and their dog had a microphone set up in their closet. If Sugar Creek published this story, it was only a matter of time before other news outlets picked it up. Actorsfrom here to Chicago would be emailing their audio samples, and—
Megs jumped when she heard the floorboards creak behind her. She folded the paper and placed it back neatly on the corner of the desk, then plastered a smile on her face as her mother entered the room. "Mom, I thought you had already left for auditions.”
"I was just on my way out.” Sylvia peered over the rim of her glasses.
Megs shot up from the chair and ran a hand through her curls. "You surprised me.”
The crow’s feet around her mother’s eyes deepened as she studied Megs’ face. There was that hawkish focus. Megs tried to breathe normally as her mom walked through the room and picked up her purse from the side table.
Megs flipped the paper over and walked toward the kitchen. She did not want to field comments and questions from her mother if she saw what she’d been reading.Acting isn’t a backup plan, Megs. It’s something you do after you have a steady income.
"Think you’ll find your Cinderella tonight?" Megs asked, following her mother into the kitchen. Sylvia sighed and pulled an iced coffee from the fridge. "The women won’t be the problem." She cracked open the lid and took a sip. "Why aren't there more men in Sugar Creek who do theater?"
"Why aren't there moremenin Sugar Creek?" Megs waggled an eyebrow.
Her mother laughed and leaned against the counter. "Megs, I wanted to apologize for blindsiding you with the news about Frank. Our realtor is convinced now is the time to sell the house before everything slows down with the holidays."
"I get it, Mom." She swallowed the lump in her throat.
Sylvia crossed her arms over her chest. "Do you think you'll be able to find a place?"
Megs bristled even though she had no right to be frustrated. She'd lived here rent-free for three years. She hoped her mom felt she'd pulled her weight with chores and meal prep, but even as she thought it, she knew she hadn't. Especially in that first year after coming home from Chicago.
"I'll find something, Mom." Megs smiled and sat down on a stool at the counter. "With my paycheck Friday, I'll make that final loan payment."
Her mother beamed at her. "That's great. Good for you."
Megs waited for the next sentence, and for a second, her heart swelled with hope that it might not come.
It did.
"And you're planning to keep working at Green Mountain?"
Megs exhaled, her arms beginning to tingle. "It's a good job."
"But not one that can support you. Not with rent prices this high."
"I’m looking for a roommate." Megs groaned internally, realizing she’d been so distracted by the audiobook article she hadn’t even made it to the classifieds.
"Even then—" Sylvia registered the look on Megs' face and snapped her mouth closed. Her jaw worked, then she set her coffee down and slumped down to rest her elbows on the counter. "I don't want to keep having this fight."
Tears pricked the corner of Megs' eyes, and she blinked.Was this a fight?Or was it simply a six-week recurring one-sided conversation?
"I'mnotgoing to keep having this fight." Sylvia pushed up and slapped her hands on the counter. "Megs, you know I love you. This is your life, and you can live it how you want."
Megs frowned.Was her mother washing her hands of her?That thought stung more than her constant badgering.
Sylvia turned and riffled in her purse, then pulled out her phone. Her thumbs began hammering out a message on the screen. "I told you Dr. Straight's office in town is hiring."
"Yes, Mom, but—"
"I know, I know, but they're looking for someone with medical coding experience. The pay is double what you currently make—"
"Not with tips, and—slightly important detail—I don't, in fact, have medical coding experience."
