Elisa
“Iam never drinking again,” I grumble to my reflection when I finally surface the following morning. My mouth feels like dusty mothballs are hibernating inside, and my stomach is queasy. After brushing my teeth and sloshing half a bottle of mouthwash, I take the longest shower in history, only getting out when my skin wrinkles to the point of no return.
I blow-dry my hair, apply some lip gloss and mascara, and get dressed, choosing my favorite black skirt with the yellow daisy pattern and a tight-fitting, white, long-sleeved top. I slide my feet into my trusty ballet flats, catching a glimpse of myself in the full-length mirror as I leave my childhood bedroom. At least I look decent on the outside, even if I feel like shit on the inside.
“You look like you need this,” Mom says, handing me a mug of steaming coffee a few seconds after I step foot in the kitchen.
“I so do. Thanks.” Sliding onto a stool at the island unit, I watch Mom spooning mixture into the paper liners lining a muffin pan.
“Please tell me they’re your oatmeal muffins?” I ask as my nostrils twitch. Mom is the muffin queen, and this recipe is my favorite. They’re full of yummy goodness because Mom adds dates, cranberries, and pecans and it’s the perfect combo.
“One and the same.” She lifts her head, locking eyes with me. “I thought they might put a smile back on your face.”
“Thanks, Mom.” Stretching across the marble top, I kiss her on the cheek. “I’m going to work on your new logo today. I’ll send you some options to review in a few hours.”
“That would be great. I can’t wait to see what you design.”
Mom has a thriving human resource management consultancy business, but she hasn’t rebranded in years. Graphic design began as a hobby for me when I first started at NYU. I was hand-drawing my favorite scenes from romance books before digitally completing them, and I posted them on Insta for fun. I very quickly built a large following, which was exciting and cool, and then authors began reaching out asking if I was available for commissions, which was even more exciting and cool. It all snowballed from there, and now I have several loyal clients who give me tons of repeat business. My artwork is still super popular, but I also design book covers, interior illustrations, graphics, and I recently branched out into logo design.
It seemed natural to offer to help Mom when she mentioned she wanted to rebrand, but I’ve been so busy lately with paid work, classes, and studying that I haven’t had the time to finish the rough draft I started a couple of weeks ago. I might as well take advantage of my free Friday and get it done now.
“Have you given any more thought to what you want to do after you graduate?” she asks, sliding the two muffin pans into the oven.
“Yeah. I’ve been thinking about what we spoke about before.” I nibble on my lip before taking a sip of my coffee. “I think I’m going to do it. I’m going to officially set up a graphic design company and look to expand my clientele.”
Mom beams. “That is wonderful news.”
“You’re not sad I didn’t go the artist or art gallery route?” When I graduated high school, I chose to study art at NYU because those had been my dreams.
But my dreams have changed—in my career and my love life.
“We just want you to be happy, Elisa, and your passion for graphic design is obvious. You love it, and you’re too talented not to pursue it.”
“It’s a little scary though.”
“The best things usually are.” She reaches across the island unit to squeeze my hand. “I’m betting it’ll be a huge success, and we’ll be proud of you no matter what.”
“Thanks, Mom.” Tears prick my eyes. “You set the best example.”
“I remember feeling scared when I walked away from my job at Caltimore Holdings to go it alone. I was afraid of failing, but it was also exhilarating. Owning your own business is as enthralling and rewarding as it is challenging and scary. I’m here to help. Sierra will help too, and your grandma is a great person to speak to. She took back control of Lawson Pharma and completely transformed the organization. You have lots of people to lean on for support.”
“Lots of strong, independent, smart women. You are all so inspirational.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” a man with a deep voice says from behind, and all the tiny hairs lift on the back of my neck.
Mom glances at me briefly before fixing a smile on her face. “Caleb. It’s lovely to see you.”
“Sorry for barging in like this, Serena, but I need to speak to Lili.”
My heart jumps hearing my nickname spill from his lips. It has always made me feel so special, but now it’s hard to believe it was real.
“What if I don’t want to speak to you?” I swivel on my chair to face him.
He’s wearing the same clothes as last night, and in the bright light of day, he looks even more gorgeous. Like he just stepped off the catwalk or one of his notorious photoshoots. Why does he have to be so drop-dead gorgeous? Why do his big blue eyes ensnare me like I’m the most precious thing in his world? I even hate how his hair flicks over his brow in messy gloriousness like he styled it that way, when I know he most likely just ran his fingers through it this morning.
“You wouldn’t have shown up at my place if you didn’t want to talk.” He produces a bouquet of flowers from behind his back, holding them out to me. I recognize the sticker on the front. They’re from my favorite florist in town, and he’s chosen a pastel pink, peach, and white bouquet with roses, tulips, peonies, and a few lilies.
“Those are beautiful.” Mom smiles sadly as her gaze bounces between us, and I imagine she’s visualizing all the lost moments we might have shared if we’d ever become a couple.
