Two
Natasha
The hardwood floors were hard underneath my butt. The Chinese takeout I had sitting in my lap was decent, but I could’ve made better. I was sitting in my new apartment in the middle of San Francisco waiting for my furniture to arrive. Had I known it was going to take an entire week to have everything delivered, I would’ve planned my return a little better than I had. I was looking at seven boxes that contained the whole of my life from the past year. Two boxes for the kitchen, two for my bedroom, two for my bathroom, and one full of decorations the children of the village had given me to decorate my new place with.
My eyes watered as I thought back to that African village.
I had spent the past year working overseas with underprivileged children. I was assigned to a small village called Bria, in the Central African Republic. Fighting and African warlords had displaced multiple women and children and forced them into the area, leaving them vulnerable and without access to medical treatment and food. I was attached to a Doctors Without Borders team and was paired off with the pediatric assistance. I was responsible for detecting developmental delays, setting out monthly plans to try and help combat some of the delays, and even help educate mothers so they could help their children after we left. I learned the language, settled into the community, and became close with the children I was treating.
They had become a second family to me until the fighting broke out.
I watched dozens of them bleed out in the middle of the dirt streets. Children I’d dedicated myself to helping but couldn’t save. I saw children with semi-automatic rifles gun down their very parents in an attempt to stay alive themselves. I listened as mothers cried out to their gods, holding their bullet-ridden children in their arms.
I closed my eyes as a tear escaped down my cheek.
The job paid decently for the year I was there, which helped to keep my things in storage. I used only what I needed in the village, then the rest was put into an investment account. I knew I couldn’t do that past the year I had signed on for. I couldn't continue to help children the way I had been only to watch them get killed in the streets because they refused to pick a side.
Or simply because they were in the wrong place at the wrong time.
A knock at my door ripped me from my thoughts. I put my Chinese takeout down on the floor as I wiped the tears from my eyes. I hated moving. I hated the constant leaving and having to reacclimate and having to update my address everywhere. I hated moving boxes and packing things up and having to rearrange furniture four separate times before I got everything right.
But the alternative was staying with that tribe, and I couldn’t do it.
I wasn’t strong enough.
And somehow, that made me feel weak.
“Nat? You in there?”
“Emma?”
I opened the door and saw my best friend standing there. She was holding up a bottle of wine in one hand and a pint of ice cream in the other. Holy hell, she was a sight for sore eyes. I threw my arms around her neck and held her close, reveling in the smell of her lavender and honey shampoo.
“It doesn’t shock me at all that nothing’s done around here,” she said.
“It’s only seven boxes,” I said.
“And your furniture still isn’t here? What have you been sleeping on?”
“Some blankets.”
“Are you insane?”
“I slept on dried mud and a cot in Bria. It’ll be weird sleeping on a mattress again,” I said.
“Well, I’ve got wine and ice cream. The least we can do is get these seven boxes unpacked.”
“Do you want some of my Chinese? It came about a half an hour ago,” I said.
“Oh, you don’t have to ask. I was already going to have some.”
The two of us sat down on the floor as Emma screwed open the cheap cap on our bottle of wine. She tipped a bit up and chugged, then handed it to me to take a drink. We passed it back and forth, stuffing our faces with Chinese food while eyeing the pint of ice cream we would share. It was good to be back in a place that was familiar. I had grown up on the outskirts of the city and met Emma in high school when she moved her. Before that she lived with her cousin Joanna in Chicago. She was the only friend I had that knew me from my reckless teenage days, and she always held me accountable whenever I got too high and mighty with my morals.
It was both liberating and frustrating at times.
“So, when’s your furniture supposed to be here?” Emma asked.
“They said today, then they called today and said tomorrow,” I said.
“And you’ve been waiting how long?”
“A week,” I said.
“Girl, we could’ve rented a damn truck and gotten your shit ourselves.”
“I know. But I figured I’d splurge a little bit and have someone do all the heavy lifting for me. But now I’m regretting it.”
“Because your shit isn’t here yet?”
“Because none of the job applications I’ve put in have landed yet,” I said.
“Well keep putting them in. If you send me a copy I’ll put it in for you as well. Twice the work in the same amount of time. And until your furniture comes, you’re staying with me.”
“You live in a studio apartment.”
“On my couch,” she said. “Unless you wanna cuddle in my full-sized bed.”
“No, thanks. No telling what’s gone on in that bed this past year.”
“Relatively little, believe it or not.”
“Oh, so your love life’s as boring as mine now? I never thought I’d see the day,” I said with a grin.
My cell phone rang as Emma passed me the wine. I took a couple of gulps before I handed it back to her, then pulled it out of my pocket. It was my cousin calling. Though he was really more like a brother. I smiled as I saw Logan’s name pop up and I pressed the green button to take his call.
“Better late than never,” I said.
“Sorry. I know you’ve been in town for a few days now, but things at the company are insane right now,” he said.
“Hard being an equal business partner. How’s the world of marketing treating you?” I asked.
“Better than you’d expect. Listen, if you’re interested, I have an interview for a nannying position set up for you at ten tomorrow morning.”
“Seriously?” I asked.
“A single dad with three kids. Needs some serious help. It’s a full-time position. Great pay. Enough for you to take out your own health insurance and stuff. If you haven't already found a job.”
“Actually, no. I haven’t, if you can believe that. I’ve been applying for the better part of a week and no one’s even hit me up to tell me they got my resume,” I said.
“Well, that’s bullshit and you don’t have to worry anymore. I have the interview set up at the office in the morning, but I’m pretty sure you’ve got the job. Come in with your resume and you’ll be interviewing with Carter.”
“Wait… Carter Carter? Like, your business partner, Carter?” I asked. “He has kids?”
“Are you coming in for the interview or not? I swear, the two of you ask questions like I’m some kind of go-to guy.”
“Sorry. Yes, I’ll be there. Can you send me the address of your office in case I can’t remember how to get to it?”
“I’ll send it over. And after the interview we could get some lunch. How’s that sound? I wanna hear all about Africa.”
I felt a lump rise in my throat as I closed my eyes.
“Sounds good,” I said.
“Great. See you then.”
“See you then,” I said.
“So… what was that about?” Emma asked.
“Logan scored me a job interview. A full-time nannying position.”
“Well, that’s awesome. What’s the pay?” she asked.
“He says it’s decent. Enough for me to finally have my own health insurance, which is nice.”
“You gonna go?”
“Hell yeah, I am. I need a job, and I need it as soon as I can. Even with my investments, San Francisco will eat it up within the next three months,” I said.
“Well, I hope it all goes well. But you know being a full-time nanny will cut into your love life.”
“Yes. My nonexistent love life with this nonexistent man who’s chiseled like a god.”
“They’re out there, and I’m sure they’d be all over your tanned skin and curves.”
“Men don’t like curves,” I said. “Besides, I’m good in the man department.”
“And you think being thin in this world’s any easier? I’ve got as many people cat-calling me while I’m walking down the sidewalk as I do yelling that I should eat a cheeseburger. One cheeseburger? I eat three in one sitting and I’m still underweight.”
“We live some seriously messed up lives, don’t we?” I asked.
“Don’t get me started,” she said.
“So how’s your career going? Are you still doing photography? I know the last time we talked you were fed up with it.”
“Brides can be rough, but I’m still doing the photography. I’ve actually got plans within the next couple of years to open my own studio.”
“Wait, when did this happen?” I asked.
“A few weeks ago, I scored a couple of serious long-term contracts. One with Terra Gallery to be their go-to wedding photographer for all the weddings they book and one with SF Weekly.”
“The newspaper?” I asked.
“Yep. They want me to be their resident photographer that captures all the pictures needed for their front-page reports on their websites. I’ll be working directly with the writers and collaborating with them. Both contracts will get my name out there and they both have me wrapped up into five-year contracts.”
“Emma, that’s incredible!”
I launched myself at her and wrapped my arms around her neck.
“I’m so happy for you,” I said.
“So now we have to land you this nannying position so we can bitch about how much we hate work,” Emma said. “But for the meantime, you’re coming with me.”
“We just drank a bottle of wine. I don’t think we should go anywhere.”
“Then we’ll call a cab. But you aren’t staying here and sleeping on the floor with some blankets another night. You’re coming to sleep on my couch and you’ll stay there until your damn furniture arrives. And if they call again tomorrow telling you they have to postpone, then you’ll ask for a refund and we’ll get that shit ourselves. It’s time we put your life back together.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Nat, I’m your best friend. I know when something’s weighing on your shoulders. I don’t know what happened in Bria, but something did. I can see it in your eyes. And when you’re ready to talk, I’m ready to listen. But you need help piecing your life back together. I know you better than this. Two days into you not having furniture, you would’ve been breathing down someone’s neck.”
I sighed and shook my head as my gaze fell to my lap.
“I’m not ready to talk about it,” I said.
“And that’s fine. When you’re ready, I’m here. But until then? I’m gonna help you piece things back together. Starting with sleeping you on my couch. We’ll tackle your furniture tomorrow.”
“Thanks, Emma.”
“No problem, Nat. No problem at all.”