Page 11 of In Every Lifetime
Not only had I pulled away as her friend, but I had tried to fire her as her boss, and stepped back from all duties as her sponsor. She had found a new one years ago, but neither of us had ever spoken about any of it. She had tried, in the beginning, but I had turned a cold shoulder every time, caring more about my drinking than about her.
At a certain point, you run out of second chances and have to accept that you destroyed one of the most important relationships in your life for the sake of a bottle.
"Is there a reason you hold onto everything?" Goldie asked, her tone a shade too bright to be convincing as she tried to cut the tension.
I shrugged as I continued to rifle through the expense reports. "Comes from a childhood of only being allowed a trash bag worth of belongings," I mumbled, signing the last document and sliding the stack across the desk to Goldie. She nodded, accepted the explanation without pushing, and took the papers.
I turned to Jackie, keeping my tone as neutral as I could. "What can I do for you?"
I could see the urge to roll her eyes or make an obnoxious remark written plainly on her face, sitting right on the tip of her tongue, but she held it back. Instead, she pulled an envelope from her back pocket and held it out to me.
"You've been nominated for an Achievement in Journalism Award," she said, and seemed physically pained at the idea of me being recognized for anything.
I took the envelope and read through the details. Most of my staff had received countless awards for their work, and they deserved every one. It was why I nominated them for as many as I could. But I had never received one myself.
"Shit," I mumbled, genuinely shocked that anyone had found me worthy of recognition. I looked back up at Jackie, who was watching me with a curious expression. "Thanks for bringing this to me."
She nodded and left, leaving me bewildered.
"Let me see that," Goldie said, snatching the document from my hand and reading it over. "This is incredible."
I didn't say anything. I didn't know what to say. Instead, I resumed my search for the birth certificate, curious now to see if I could make out my mother's name, knowing what I was looking for this time.
I should have been more focused on the award, but with everything swirling around the letter, I couldn't get there. Gabriel hadn't just written to me. He had invited me to come see him. That was where my mind kept landing, on the possibility of meeting my brother in the flesh, of learning about my mother firsthand, maybe even understanding why I had been given up. The award felt inconsequential by comparison.
"Fai," Goldie trailed off and turned to me.
"Do you think you could handle things here for a week?" I asked, giving up on my search for the birth certificate. I had a feeling I knew where it had ended up.
Goldie nodded. "Sure. We already have the next issue queued up, so the timing is good. But can we talk about this?"
"Thank you," I mumbled and started putting the boxes back.
"Fai?"
"Yeah?" I asked, still not fully paying attention.
Goldie rolled her eyes and pulled at my shoulder, turning me to face her. "Fai, this is serious."
My brow furrowed. "Why? It's just some award."
"Maybe," Goldie said, "but it's how you got nominated that matters. Jackie did it."
"What?" I grabbed the nomination letter and read it over, landing on the section that noted it was peer-nominated.
"How do you know it was Jackie?"
Goldie picked up the envelope from my desk. "It’s not addressed to you. It’s explaining that her nomination was accepted." She turned it over, pointing to where her name was printed clearly on the return address.
Jackie James.
"Why in the world would she nominate me?" I asked, more to myself than anyone.
"Maybe things between you two aren't as hopeless as you thought."
