How do I start over with the aftertaste of fresh failure so prominent on my tongue?
The truth is, you can plan all you want, but you can’t account for the curveballs. The one pitch I still haven’t learned to hit.
I reach the corner at the same time as the group of women, and my eyes snag on the patio of a local restaurant across the street. I scan the tables while I wait for the light to change.
A toddler screams and tosses a toy on the ground. A group of guys let out a loud laugh, like they’ve all just gotten the punchline of a joke at the same time. A man and woman sit on the same side of a table, engrossed in only one thing, in spite of the busyness around them—each other.
There are no single diners at this restaurant. Everyone is paired off or in a group.
Everyone has someone.
And I’m on my own.
Suddenly, eating alone doesn’t feel brave.
It feels embarrassing.
My pulse quickens and my face heats, the way it does sometimes when I start to feel anxious, and as the light changes, a small crowd of people, including the group of women, maneuver around me to cross the street.
But I don’t move.
I can’t move.
What if I can’t figure out how to make it here? What if city life isn’t for me? Why did I think this was a good idea?
The light cycles through, and a man walking a beagle gives me a sideways glance. His dog stops in front of me, wagging its tail, pulling on the leash, excited to meet someone new.
I can’t even muster a “who’s a good boy” and a pat.
I can’t even meet a stranger when that stranger is a friendly little beagle.
I shake my head, step back onto the sidewalk, and bolt in the direction of my apartment.
John’s voice plays on a continuous loop at the back of my mind.
“You’re making a huge mistake.”
What if he was right?
What if I was wrong?
What if...?
Then Minnie’s voice cuts through the noise.
“I’m proud of you, Mom... It’s the first one that feels like a choice.”
A choice.
My choice.
“No, Claire,” I say to myself quietly as I pass a young mom pushing a stroller. “You can do this. You just need more time.”
Right. That’s it.
Tomorrow will be better. Tomorrow, I’ll feel ready.
I hope.
