“Lili!” She turns, looking back over her shoulder at the barn, where she’d just stopped in to say goodbye to the remaining farm staff who hadn’tleft for the city yet. Eileen is running after her, gravel crunching underfoot. “Glad I caught you! You headed back into the city?”
Lili nods, smiling; full with the brightness of this week, but also bursting with anticipation to be back in New York; to be back with Aleksandr. “Yeah, catching the train at ten.”
“Cool, this won’t take long. Look, you did a great job this week, everyone noticed it.”
“Oh—wow, okay. That’s kind, thank you.”
“I mean it, you were wonderful. You have knowledge, a strong background, real passion—you were a standout in every workshop, all our instructors mentioned it—plus, you have the actual vision and strategy chops that this type of business is often sorely lacking.”
Lili gives an easy laugh, warmed by the praise. “I’ll make sure I come to you if I’m ever feeling down, Eileen. You already pay me, not sure you need to give me the ego boost, too.”
“Well, we’d love to keep paying you. We’d like you to come on full-time, salaried.”
Lili freezes. “What?” she breathes.
“You’re an exceptional member of the team, and we need someone dedicated to lead expansion and strategic ops, we can’t keep having people double hat it. We understand you’d need to stay part-time until you finish your degree, and you’d report to me, but you’d have a good amount of room to grow. You understand the fundraising landscape, you have the right knowledge and instincts, but you also understand what success in scaling this business means, without compromising core values. You’d still be doing fieldwork, but you’d be seeing us—hopefully—expand to about a dozen more locations across the city in the next few years, with a lot more integration into downtown spaces, huge visibility in partnership with the municipality. It’s going to be a pivotal year for us, and we want you with us.”
“Are you—are you sure?”
Eileen laughs, affectionate. “Of course, we’re sure. We’ve been thinking about this for a while. This week was essentially a formality.”
“But I didn’t realize we were hiring for the core team? For anything beyond hourly, part-time?”
“We aren’t. Well, not right now—we’re only offering this to you. Weknow you have a lot of options, and we can’t pay what an investment bank or tech might, but we can definitely beat a UN entry-level salary,” she says, winking.
“But this summer—back in June, I dropped all those shifts on you at such a short notice—”
Eileen waves away her protest. “You’d never done that before. Emergencies happen, a graduate degree is stressful. Just don’t let it happen again.”
Her heart is thudding loud enough to drown out the farm’s birdsong;is this really happening?“Can I—could I think about it?”
“Absolutely. Just let us know in the next two weeks or so, we’d like to kick off August with onboarding. Earlier would be great if you can swing it, it’ll give us time to plan, make sure we earmark funding accordingly.”
“Right. Yeah, of course—will do.”
Eileen smiles. “You did great, Lil,” she says, hugging her quick. “Really great. Call me if you have questions—salary, benefits, that sort of thing. We’re set on having you, we’ll make it work.”
And despite the shock of it—the sheer disbelief, the sense that this must be a joke, this can’t be happening; she doesn’t even know if thiswouldwork, if it’d be viable—Lili feels a smile break across her face: the possibility that futures lie around corners she hasn’t thought to look; that she can hope for things, and they might happen.
Lili and her friends get back into Manhattan near noon. They head over to Jamie’s place on Perry Street, where Amina uses her spare keys to sneak them into his town house; he drove into the city earlier, crack of dawn with the commuters, and he’s still at work. It’s a beautiful summer day, the onset of Leo season: People drink Aperol spritzes at sidewalk cafés, and Lili feels the secret of the job offer—uncertain, precious; she wants to hold it close a little longer, until she has to be realistic, weigh options, consider futures—like a sun inside her, buried but bursting. In the kitchen, Amina starts prepping the grocery list for the birthday dinner, while Jackie rifles through the alcohol cupboard. Opening up the bay windows to let fresh air in, Lili lingers for a moment, inhaling.
She feels full; she feels happy.
Late in the afternoon, she’s running to Citarella for last-minuteingredients—Guanciale, not bacon, okay, little vegan?Amina warned her—when she gets the text.
Jane Remnick(3:43 p.m.) Hi Lili. Nice to chat the other day. I know today is usually a rough date for you. I wanted to check-in. I found this in our old files I mentioned. Thought it nice to share today, in memory.
Cold seizes her. Her fingers shake as she taps on the image, pushing it full-size on her screen.
It’s by the ocean. Monterey, fresh air, coast cypress, fleece jackets, sunshine off the waves. Her father’s sunglasses are pushed up into his hair, with Lili on his shoulders, all of five or six years old, a big grin, messy hair in the wind, her mother reaching up to hold her hand, the bright shine of her eyes as she looks at Lili, angling the camera to take the photo of the three of them.
Impromptu, tilted frame, radiant with joy and salt air.
Lili stares until the screen goes dark.
And her first coherent thought is,Of course.
Standing on the corner—flash of streetlights changing, crowd of tourists, NYU students, West Village dog walkers—the simple inevitability is clear.
