“And I’ll get a dumpster.”
She nodded.
“Thanks for dinner.”
She started petting Stevie again. “Sure.”
Tom cleared his throat.
Cherry looked up.
“I want you to be happy, too, Cherry.”
Cherry didn’t think she could respond to that without screaming or crying, so she didn’t.
After a few seconds, Tom let himself out.
Chapter 21
Cherry was twenty-five, and it was the first time she’d worked somewhere that had a big Christmas party...
A big,mandatoryChristmas party.
Cherry had been at the railroad for ten months or so. She was an entry-level designer in the marketing department, which meant she spent her days resizing help-wanted ads for small-town newspapers and formatting endless brochures for Employee Health. Like—Naps: Part of Your Safety Toolbox.And—Tobacco Cessation: No More ‘Butt’s.
It was pretty mind-numbing.
But at least she worked in a cool building—Western Alliance’s seventeen-story glass headquarters in downtown Omaha—and the railroad itself was interesting. It felt like Cherry was doing somethingreal. Everyone at Western Alliance acted like they were part of a patriotic mission to supply the country with finished goods and raw materials. There were American flags everywhere. The company had a famous TV commercial that was just thirty seconds of trains zooming past the camera, with flags painted on their cars. The commercial played in her building’s lobby and cafeteria, and on some of the elevators. Cherry knew the voiceover by heart.
This was not how Cherry had expected to use her art degree—but now she wondered what she’deverplanned to do with an art degree, from a Jesuit university, no less. All her classmates had gone on to law school and medical school and PT school. Stacia was going to be a chiropractor.
Cherry’s goals when she graduated were modest: make art; get health insurance.
The railroad checked one and a half of those boxes.
It really wasn’t so bad... Cherry was doing well at Western Alliance. Her boss, Doug, trusted her—he sent her to all the meetings he didn’t want to go to. And Cherry wasmostlyadjusting to corporate culture.
She was really anxious about this holiday party.
The railroad’s vice president of public affairs (Doug’s boss’s boss) invited all her departments to her house every year. Cherry had gone to a fancy liquor store to buy a hostess gift—which her coworkers said was crucial. She’d spent more on one bottle of wine for this rich VP than she’d ever spent on her own mother. It was ridiculous. And now she had to figure out what to wear...
Everyone at the railroad was so conservative, and Cherry sowasn’t. It was the only thing Doug got on her case about. He said that she dressed like the host of a children’s television show. The first time he’d said it, Cherry had been wearing an adorable red polka-dot dress, with a navy blue sweater and a yellow kerchief tied around her neck.
“I love this outfit,” she’d said without looking up from her computer.
“It’s a good outfit forPee-wee’s Playhouse,” Doug said. “Or maybe, whatchamacallit...”
“The Howdy Doody Show,” Wallace offered. Wallace was the senior designer who sat across from Cherry. He was ancient.
“Exactly,” Doug said. “I was going to sayBozo’s Circus.”
Cherry side-eyed him. “Am I supposed to dress like you guys?” (Doug didn’t mind a little sass.)
Cherry was the only woman on their team—everyone else wore khakis with red, blue or black Western Alliance polos.
Doug shrugged. “Just dress like the girls in the other departments.”
“Like the otherwomen,” Wallace corrected.
