He leaned his tall body against the door frame and crossed his arms. “I’m good. I wanted to talk to you about your three year anniversary with us. I’m having Anna send you an email about it, so you should have it by the end of the day.”
“Ok,” I said. I really wanted my water, so I hoped he was about done with his idle chitchat. “Sounds good.”
His face grew wary and he fidgeted. He was a tall, built man and seeing him acting nervous was slightly hysterical.
“Are you ok, Marcus?” I questioned, fighting back my giggle.
“I wanted to ask you something.”
Oh, dear Lord, no. He’s not going to ask me out. “Ask away.” I attempted to keep my tone light and friendly, but not too friendly.
Straightening, he dropped his hands to the side. “I don’t mean to step out of line, but I’ve noticed you’re distant. Is everything ok?”
Shit. My heart raced and my mind joined as I fought to bring words to my lips. He must have noticed my hesitation and took it differently.
“I’m sorry, Daphne, it’s not my place. You’ve worked here a long time and I think of us all as family. I understand if you don’t want to talk about your personal life.”
Instantly, I felt horrible. Why was I so screwed up and somehow managed to bring everyone else down, too? “No, Marcus, you didn’t say anything wrong. I’m working on my issues. I’m sorry if it’s affecting the office, I’ve done my best to not let it get in the way with my job.”
He placed a hand on my arm gently. “You’re one of the best, Daphne. Don’t think this is about work. I’m concerned as a friend.”
Panic rose in me as I debated what to do, how to handle this. The truth wasn’t an option. Letting someone know that you were broken in any way was an invitation to be mocked, ridiculed, or worse, pitied. Was there anything worse than pity? To see the deep sadness and disheartening looks people give when they feel sorry for you. The whispers that follow after you leave a conversation. The crushing chest pain leading up to a situation where someone who isn’t broken will be in attendance.
I refused to let anyone have the information needed to do that, to have power over me.
Some called my problem an illness, a disease, while most didn’t understand and simply made fun of what they didn’t understand. Would Marcus be a friend or foe? Without having a way of knowing, I wouldn’t chance telling him anything. “Thank you, Marcus. I’m really sorry I worried you, but I’m fine. You don’t need to waste any more thoughts on me.” Forgetting my water, I strutted off. My words were harsh, I knew that deep in my mind, but I didn’t care.
Why did people have to point out they knew something was wrong with me? Hello, I knew it better than they did and pointing it out was only a reminder of how screwed up my thoughts were. When I got to my desk, I saw Marcus walk by shaking his head. Confusion probably would plague him for the rest of the day over my complete one-eighty, and I felt bad for that, but apologizing now would only open the door for more questions, more explanations.
I was sick of making excuses for my behavior.
Opening my email, I saw the one from Anna as well as the proposal information for our newest client. AST Design was founded ten years before I started working here. The owner built the company from the ground up and made millions in profit within the first five years of business. We designed mostly for businesses, though some of the designers did occasionally take on individual clients, but it was rare. I preferred to work with the more open, wider spaces, so I mainly designed for offices. Doctors, lawyers, therapists, etc.
Ironic, right? I wasn’t the one to design Becki’s office. I’d refused to go anywhere I’d worked on. Same goes for any clubs or bars. In my younger days at the company, I’d worked on all kinds of places. Wasn’t really given a choice on the matter, but since my one year review, I’d moved up and was able to pick my own projects since I knew how to do it all.
My job was amazing. I really did love it, it made me happy. Well, as happy as I could be, anyway. Still, no matter how much love I had for what I do, the anxiety of dealing with people and having responsibilities every day was difficult. All I wanted to do was crawl up in my bed and cuddle my pillow, sleeping the day away. It wasn’t feasible, though, so I put on the best smile I could muster and trudged to work every day.
The awesome part was most days weren’t as horrible as my mind convinced me they’d be. Each morning was a struggle to pull myself from the warmth of my blankets. Physically, I was fit and healthy, but mentally…not so much. I prepped myself for the day to come as the water cleansed my body, and continued the talk as my morning passed. Conversations and interactions were the most exhausting moments of my day. I preferred to be at my desk, headphones in, while perusing online stores and designing. My favorite company was myself, but no one really understood that.
No matter what, I kept to myself. The secrets harbored in me, anchored to my soul and refusing to let go until I was trapped, completely boxed in sometimes, and I couldn’t get out.
I wanted out.
Zander
My days passed slowly, living a life I didn’t truly enjoy, or even want. In my twenty-three years, I’d always aimed to please, to make everyone but myself happy. Doing what was needed in order to do what the family expected, what my friends or lovers wanted. Never did I think of what I wanted, what would make my life better and worth living. It’d been beat into my brain to live as my elders, going into law and taking over the family business when I reached a respectable age.
Well, that was over now. The business was shut down, and as far as I was concerned, I didn’t even belong to that family anymore. McKinney or Phillips. They’d both abandoned me, one physically, one emotionally, and I was finished with them both.
“Zander?”
Lifting my face, I gazed at Francesca’s concerned one. “Yeah?”
“Did you hear me?” she asked with a grin, knowing I didn’t.
I shook my head anyway. “Sorry, listen, I need to talk to you.”
Her brows furrowed and she nodded to her office. “Let’s go in there. I don’t have another appointment for thirty minutes.”
Rolling my chair back, I stood unsteadily. Though everyone else had disappointed me, Francesca hadn’t, and I was afraid of what I was about to tell her. She’d offered me her friendship when no one else did, a job when the company shut down, and her ear to listen more times than I could count. Leaving this office would be difficult, but it was time to make decisions best for me, and this was it.
I made my way to the chair in front of her desk, flopping heavily down.
“You’re leaving,” she stated, her eyes dancing with mischief.
Shocked, I leaned up, resting my elbows on my knees and nodded. “How did you know?”
She laughed. “I know you, Z. You’re all distraught and look like you are about to break my heart. It’s the only thing that could be happening.”
“I’m finishing this semester on the law path, then I’m stopping, Francesca. I’m not happy. I haven’t been for a while.”
“I know,” she agreed.
How this woman knew things I hadn’t mentioned, I couldn’t tell you, but she did. She’d always been so perceptive and caring, a friend like no other. Smirking, I caught her gaze. “You amaze me, Francesca. How did you know already?”
Shrugging, she leaned back in her chair and spun back and forth. “I notice things, Z. You know that. You’ve just been off lately. Ever since the fiasco at J & B and I honestly can’t blame you. You don’t have to wait until the end of the semester, though. Why prolong your unhappiness?”
“It’s paid for, and I’ll only get a fifty percent refund at this point, which really doesn’t matter, I suppose, but I hate to waste money. I’d rather just give myself a few months to get everything else in order.”
“What is it you want to do?” Francesca questioned. She was so sincere and concerned as her brown eyes watched me thoughtfully.
Panic set in as I re
alized I was about to admit my deepest dream, the one desire I’d wanted for as long as I could remember, but never had the guts to reveal. Inhaling deeply, I cast my eyes down. “I want to teach music.”
She stopped spinning. “Music? Instruments?”
I nodded.
Smiling, she said, “I had no idea you were into music. I like it. I think you’ll be great at that. What ages do you want to teach?”
“I want a shop where people can come to buy instruments, take classes, or meet with others to form a band. Whatever they need. Knoxville is the closest place that has anything like that, so I think it could do well. I know how to play a few, and I could get people to come that know how to play others,” I explained, my voice rising as I got more excited at the prospect.
It was apparently contagious, because she became enthusiastic as well. “You could have a kids’ class on weekends. Parents would love that!”
I started bouncing my knee out of nervous habit. “Yeah, that could work. A few on Saturdays or something.”
She leaned forward, her soft face lit in happiness. “I want you to do this. And I’ll help you however I can. Don’t feel obligated to stay here. And can I recommend you call my friend Daphne about helping you with the interior? She’s amazing.”
She was always pushing me on meeting this chick, but she was never around when I was. Barely missing her by a few minutes, or seeing her from the back as she drove off. It was weird. “Ok, I’ll think about it. I have to find a building first.”
“Let me look over everything, I know you can handle it, but it doesn’t hurt to have a second pair of eyes,” she instructed.
“Aye,” I stated, grinning.
The door chimed, signaling her next appointment had arrived. Jumping from my chair, I sped walked to the front to greet them and get the needed paperwork filled out. What was originally a stressful thought was now a thrilling adventure awaiting planning and preparation.
My mother would be horrified at my decision, so I simply wouldn’t tell her anytime soon. The summer semester was half over, so only one more month of classes and I’d be free to change my major. The change was daunting, but I didn’t care. It was time to live my life the way I wanted and not worry about the consequences it would have on others. The only ones that mattered were mine. How I felt, what would happen to my life, where it would lead. Mine and only mine.
Francesca took her clients back into her office, shutting the door behind her. I settled in to begin printing invoices and working on scheduling more appointments. I wouldn’t leave Francesca alone without everything in order, and would train whoever took my spot. She’d been too good to me to leave her with anything but the best.
The warm July air engulfed me as I stepped out of the office. It was a nice day, the sun was shining with enough clouds to not have the weight of it bearing down on my skin. My grandmother’s assisted living residence was two blocks from work, so I decided to take a mind-clearing walk to go visit her.
Francesca was busy the rest of the day, so I didn’t have a chance to speak to her about anything else concerning my new life path, but I knew she wouldn’t forget. Francesca was the kind of person who would go home and sit Cade down to make a list of ways they could help me. It’s why I’d sent them on a free vacation a few months back, and why their wedding gift would be even more extravagant.
Money meant nothing to me, never had. Seeing how it consumed and destroyed my mother was enough to never want anything to do with it. It was a means to live and that was it. It didn’t bring happiness to me, only grief. It would help me to bring happiness to my friends, though, so I wouldn’t feel guilty using it for that.
Rounding the corner, the buildings came into view. The assisted living apartments were nice, nicer than I’d expected when I helped her move in a few years ago. The actual buildings were brick with more windows than she could curtain, and each had a large-for-its-size front and back porch. She had a pretty decent sized yard, that they kept trimmed, and she’d planted rose bushes all along her walkway. After my grandfather had died ten years ago, I’d stepped up and helped Grammy out in any way I could. I was the only grandson, and Mom abandoned her for riches.
She’d abandoned everyone, it seemed.
Grammy opened the door as I took the steps two at a time. “Zandy!” she called, delight pouring from her voice. No matter how long it’d been, she always greeted me like it had been years since she saw me last.
“Grammy,” I said, cradling her worn body in a warm hug. “I’ve missed you.”
Swatting at me, she ushered me in. “It’s been less than a week, Boy. What’s going on? Is your mother doing something again?”
Shaking my head, I escorted her to her favorite chair. “No, she’s being her usual self, but nothing I can’t handle. I came to talk to you about something. I can’t wait until our usual Saturday date.”
Her white hair hit her shoulders, curling around her wrinkled face. She was beautiful in her old age, but was a stunner in her younger years. My sister looked a lot like her with her long dark tresses and huge brown eyes. Grammy’s genes were strong and we’d all somehow got them.
“Do tell, Zandy.”
I explained about the music store, how I wanted to help bring more to the community, and to pursue my love of it. She’d always been supportive of my decisions, never questioning or giving advice when I didn’t want it. She listened, throwing in her two cents only when I asked for her opinion. Once my parents split, Grammy was my savior, taking me on weekends to get me away from the horror of my new mother. She was my number one fan in any area of life, a cheerleader when needed, and the mother I longed for once mine forgot about her children in exchange for money.
Grammy’s brown eyes glistened and gleamed as I told her my plans. The excitement poured out of her, lighting her face as her grin grew with each new development I revealed. She nodded along as I spoke.
“Zandy, that sounds wonderful. I do hope you’ll let me help you in any way possible,” she said as she came over to give me a big hug.
I stood, towering over her, and grinned. “Of course, Grammy. I’ll need all the help I can get. And I want you to make some of your famous peanut butter cookies for opening day.”
“When do you want to do this?” she asked, walking toward her kitchen.
Following, I picked up a piece of paper that lay in the floor and threw it away as I entered the kitchen. I didn’t want her to slip. “Well, my summer class ends next month. Then in September, I’m in Francesca and Cade’s wedding, so I was thinking November. I don’t want to take away from their day in any way, nor do I want to overwhelm anyone.”
Sitting across from me at her table, she sipped her water and chuckled. “I don’t know how you could be anything less than wonderful, Zandy. You always think of others. I wish your mother was still like that.”
Shifting uncomfortably, I cleared my throat. Having a daughter who valued money more than her children had to be difficult for Grammy. She’d always put others ahead of herself, thinking of the good of anyone she met before herself. She would help a stranger without second thought.
My mother was once like Grammy, before she’d left my father. I remembered the day she told me we were leaving like it was yesterday, a horrific memory forever engrained in my memory.
Large, wet tears streamed down my mom’s face, soaking her skin in streaks. She hastily threw things in bags and boxes, cursing under her breath as she went along. My sister gripped my hand, almost to the point it hurt, but I wouldn’t tell her that. I had to be strong, to protect her in this moment. Being four years younger than me, she looked up to me, expected me to be the leader in moments like this, and I wouldn’t let her down in our saddest, scariest moment.
Our mother was on the rampage, angry at our father for some unknown reason, and taking us away. At twelve and eight years old, it was too much for us to understand, to comprehend why our family was breaking apart. The loving home we’d known was shattered, leaving a mess
in the ruins. Our father was gone, at work or some event, and our mother was taking us away in the meantime.
Did he know? Did he care? Would he come after us?
The questions flooded my mind, but I didn’t voice them. I couldn’t, and wouldn’t, upset Zarina any more than she was already. Her fragile and caring heart didn’t need this ache. As her brother, her protector, I must do what was needed to ensure she wasn’t scarred for life.
I led her to her room, instructing her to put her favorite toys in her backpack so she wouldn’t forget them. Then, I confronted my mother.
“Mom,” I said, stepping between her and the box she was assaulting. “Why are you taking us away from Dad?”
She scoffed, giving me a menacing gaze. “Don’t get in my way, Zander. Things have happened you don’t understand. We’re going to live with a friend of mine. His name is Ander.”
Shocked, I stared at her. “We’re going to live with some man? Does Dad know we’re leaving?”
Screaming, she threw the picture she was holding against the wall. “Your father,” she spit his name like venom, “Is too busy pretending he’s single to worry about what we’re doing. Now go pack your shit before I get angry.”
I left her with her anger after that, not wanting to see this woman that replaced my mother. I soon figured out Ander wasn’t a friend at all, but her replacement for our father. A much richer replacement.
“Zandy?” Grammy said, placing her chilled hand on my arm. “Are you ok?”
I nodded. “Just thinking about how mom used to be, and the day she changed.”
She squeezed and rubbed a circle on my forearm. “Your mother handled things badly. Your father hurt her, but she shouldn’t have acted the way she did. Money isn’t as important as she seems to believe, and I wish she could see that.”
Shrugging, I took her hand in mine and held it. “You were always there for me, and I appreciate it, Grammy. Mom let me down, but you helped the hit to not be as hard.”
Anxious Hearts Page 3
