Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 87364 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 437(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87364 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 437(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
It strikes me first how callous James seems to Sharon’s injuries, but it strikes me just as quickly that he’s asking something of me I cannot give.
“But… but… she’s in Chicago,” I stammer.
“Exactly. You’ll need to catch a flight ASAP.”
“I can’t,” I say without hesitation. I know in my bones I can’t.
“You must,” he counters.
“I can’t, James. I’m not ready.”
He sighs with frustration. “It’s been seven months, Sophie. We’ve been very accommodating, made a position for you until you were ready to get back to your training position. But we can’t wait anymore. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about via Zoom today. I wanted to set a definite return date, but then this accident came up with Sharon, and it’s imperative I get you back traveling again.”
James is not wrong about the emergent nature of his request. We don’t just sell medical devices to hospitals, we go in and train the doctors how to use them. Specifically, we teach doctors how to use the machine that injects dye into coronary arteries, an ultrasound that goes into the arteries to show plaque morphology as well as previous stents to ensure they’re open, and finally, how to use the actual catheter that can determine the course of treatment for blockages. Our role is critical.
That’s what I found so exciting… that I could go in—with only the company-provided training—and teach doctors how to use our medical devices. I walked through it with them as they tested it on actual patients in actual procedures. I felt like part of the healing process.
I truly did like the work.
But not anymore. Not enough to get on a plane and leave Pittsburgh.
“I can’t,” I whisper, and I realize this is the third time I’ve said those words to him. I have nothing more to offer in explanation. I just know… I can’t.
“Sophie.” James’s voice is low with a hard edge. Gone is the empathy for my situation, and I know there’s nothing left but impatience. “I either need you to head to Chicago to take over Sharon’s appointments, or I need you to find a new job.”
“I’m sorry,” I reply softly. “But I’m just not ready.”
“So are you offering your resignation?” he snaps.
If I resign, I can’t apply for unemployment, and I’ll need that until I can find a new job. “No, I’m not resigning. I’m still willing to do the job you have me doing until such time as I’m able to return to sales.”
“Then you’re fired,” he growls. “Effective immediately.”
James hangs up on me, and I stare at my phone in shock before setting it down.
I put on a kettle to make tea as I need something relaxing, and coffee is not the drink for that. I sit at my table while I wait for it to boil. I’m now jobless, and I’ll have to do some planning. It’s what Frankie would tell me, anyway. She’d tell me to sit my ass down and figure shit out. The only reason I don’t call Frankie at this point is because I’d like to have options to discuss with her before I tell her I got canned.
Reynis paid me damn good money, and I’ve squirreled away a lot of it. I’m fine with whatever I can get on unemployment, supplemented with savings, until I can find another position. I could last a year if needed. This afternoon, I’ll start searching, and I’m confident I can come up with something as long as it allows me to work remotely.
Until I can find the courage to step back out into the world without fear.
Sighing, I berate myself for having so many conditions all based on the trauma from my attack. I know I need to get my shit together. I don’t want to be this way. I’ve always been an adventurer—hiking, skydiving, scuba diving, traveling the world, you name it. I loved club-hopping with my friends and taking road trips. I want to do all those things again, and I’m still willing to work hard on myself to attain those things.
It’s just that every time I think about doing exciting, adventurous things—or even normal, everyday things—I ask myself… can Baden do it? Does the man who risked his very life to save me have the same pleasures that I’d be seeking? It doesn’t seem fair for me to have an unencumbered life when Baden doesn’t.
There’s no secret that my guilt over what happened to Baden Oulett drives my inability to enjoy life’s simple pleasures. My penance is to suffer the way he must be suffering. While I have no idea how he’s doing these days, in my mind, it’s not well. I base that on the one and only time I visited him following the attack.
That stupid plant I brought. Like I thought that could make things better for him.