by Mia Wolf
“You know you brighten my day,” I say to her and smile a warm smile.
She smiles back then adjusts her glasses and continues typing. We finish our meal and get in the car to make our way downtown. I check my phone for the exact location of the health clinic. As I swipe down the top bar, I notice a notification. It is from the dating website again. I tap on it to take a quick look. There is a message from the guy I had matched with yesterday. Joshua. “hi,” it says.
“hi?” I say out loud. Not even a “Hi,” with proper punctuation. He couldn’t be bothered to type more than that?
“What?” Kristen looks at me from the corner of her eye.
I shake my head and point towards the road. I remember being an awfully irresponsible passenger on our drive home after our night out and wince at the memory. Then I stare back at the text message. What exactly am I supposed to make of a meager “hi”? I shut the browser window and push the thought away, too. Dating is the last thing that should be on my mind right now, anyway.
Kristen pulls over at a corner. The way to her office is straight ahead while I am supposed to go right. I fight the impulse to kiss her on the forehead for making my life a tad bit easier simply by being in it.
“Go get it, girl,” she rolls the R in ‘girl,’ so it comes out as a growl.
I sling my purse on my left shoulder and search for the clinic with the help of the GPS on my phone. I find it without much trouble.
‘Vitality Skin Care,’ reads a giant board on the five-floor building in front of me. ‘World’s leading specialists in skin care technology.’
As I enter the building, I try to imagine what it would be like to work in a place like this. The commute would be a bother, I muse. Lauren’s office was a whopping five-minute walk away from both Derek and Kristen’s apartments.
I make my way to the ground floor reception, and I spot the current receptionist who is busy answering a phone call. When she is done, I ask her for directions to the interview hall.
She looks gorgeous. I suddenly feel grateful for my choice of clothing. It matches the woman’s style. She is clad in a rusty, loosely hanging wrap that knots around her slender waist and perfectly complements her brown hair which is tied in a bun like mine. I find myself wondering about her reasons for leaving. Did she also get fired? If so, her resolve is a spectacle to behold because she guides me to the designated room with a genuine smile and courtesy. It makes me think she definitely did not get fired.
I take a seat on the orange couch that rests in the center of the hall the woman had pointed me towards. Another extremely good-looking woman is seated on a chair in a corner with her legs crossed. She is on a phone call. When she speaks, I realize she also happens to be extremely British. My stomach turns at the thought of competing with her. My instinct is to villainize her, find petty reasons why I am better than her, better suited for this job. But I stop myself. I don’t want to be a person that needs to put others down in order to build herself up.
“Your eyeliner is on fleek,” I say to her once she has put her phone down.
“Thanks,” she offers in a strong British accent. “You’re rocking that bun.”
I giggle at her compliment and immediately feel better, my nervous energy dissipating. All I need to do is go in there and give my best. That’s all I can do. You can do this, I tell myself.
Just then a woman comes out of the door that opens into a smaller room inside. She leaves with frantic steps as if in a hurry. A man follows soon after her and asks the British woman to enter next. I rub my sweaty palms and try my best to keep calm. I fiddle with my phone until it is my turn to go. Nobody else arrives after me. I’m the last interviewee.
I can do this, I repeat to myself one last time when I see the British woman exit the room. I wave her goodbye, and she smiles back and mouths ‘good luck’ to me while her cheek is pressed to her phone again. The man requests me to follow him in not too long after. I straighten my spine, raise my chin, and do as I’m asked.
The room is indistinguishable from the rest of the clinic. It boasts the same interiors as the corridors and the reception. White walls and ceiling, plain dull green carpet, and decoration of abstract art paintings embellishing the premise with a little bit of character.
“Jessica, is that right?” the man says in a low voice reading off a sheet of paper, marking something on it with a pen.
“Yes. Jessica Walters.” I take a seat opposite the man once he gestures me to do so.
He looks like he is in his early forties. He has a rugged appearance softened only by the white of his doctor’s coat. It makes me wonder why a doctor would be interviewing candidates for the receptionist. He raises his head and offers me a smile.
“So, tell me something about you,” he says, his voice still softer than a whisper. He places the paper on the desk and folds his fingers, resting his hands on the table. He looks at me intently, waiting for a response.
Having given several interviews before I finally landed the job at Lauren’s, I had developed a sort of ritual of answering questions that didn’t directly pertain to the job by reciting a pre-scripted version of the same old stories. I hadn’t even realized I was doing it. It becomes too difficult to share genuine life experiences when you’re asked thirty times in a row. It always went something like, ‘I’m an English lit major. Three years of work experience. Blah blah blah’. It infuriates me when the marriage and children question comes up. I just never think it is relevant. It is honestly quite uncouth, and surprising how often it does come up.
I take a deep breath. No need for pre-scripted sentences, I tell myself. I’m in full control of my story.
“I would say I’m quite determined when I feel like I can truly make a difference. I go above and beyond to make sure I do my job properly, that people around me can rely on me to take care of things.” The words spill out of my mouth so effortlessly. I realize that I mean every single one of them. “Of course, in return to be part of something that makes me feel like my contribution is valued and my effort is recognized means a lot to me. I think beyond that I feel fully well-equipped to take on any challenges. It would be an honor to get a chance to demonstrate these skills at work.”
The man has a look of astonishment on his face. I think we’re both equally surprised by my honesty. He passes me an approving nod with his head once he realizes I’m done and picks up the paper once again. I feel a tinge of satisfaction.
For the next thirty minutes, I answer the barrage of questions the man hurls at me, feeling quite content with the way I handle it. I feel like myself for the first time in a long while sitting in the room. It makes me realize how high-strung I had become while I worked for Lauren. I can barely recognize the girl who pulled those inhumane shifts with no concern for her own well-being. I slide the chair carefully back and stand up to take my leave after the interview is over. I sling my purse on my shoulder. The man presents his hand to me. Presumably as a sign of respect. I respond with a polite handshake.
I exit the building and let the autumn air invade my lungs. Retrieving my phone from my purse, I quickly text Kristen to tell her about the best interview of my life. She responds in emojis exclusively. Three hugs and several confetti explosions. I laugh out loud and in a flurry mis-click the browser. The window with the dating site pops open. Joshua’s terse “hi” stares back at me, and I scoff and put it away immediately.
As I navigate my way to the nearest bus stop, I look up at the bright blue sky and think of my mother. About what she would think of me if she saw me now.
“I think I’m doing my best, mom,” I say to myself still looking at the clear sky.
I fight back the teardrop threatening to fall with a crinkle of my nose and breathe in deeply. I tell myself that if my mother were around, she would be proud of me. All she ever wanted for me to do was to find love and live happily. I can take charge of one of those fronts and hope the other one figures itself out.
Chapter 4 – Joshua
&nbs
p; Rose knocks at my door the third time in the evening. She opens the door a crack and cranes her neck inside.
“They’re waiting,” she coos with a soft, melodic cadence in her voice.
I button up my shirt in a hurry, inwardly frowning at her invasion. But I don’t say anything. As the alpha, it’s my responsibility to be available at all times to anyone who might need me. No matter how trivial or unwelcome the matter may be.
I press my lips imperceptibly and give Rose an affirming nod. She blinks her eyes at me like a doe, passes me a sultry smile, and shuts the door after her.
I sigh, dreading the rest of the evening already. I take a long time to get ready. Not because I need to, but to shorten the event in any capacity. I try to be just late enough to miss the first part of the event and just early enough to be on time for any ceremonies that require the presence of the alpha of the clan. Shirking responsibilities has never been acceptable to me. I may be unenthusiastic about most bear traditions, but it is my duty to respect them, anyway.
I raise my head and look at myself in the mirror. For all clan gatherings, a tailored white shirt and black trousers are my go-to attire. I give myself a final once-over as I button my cuffs and get ready to go.
“Only a matter of hours,” I repeat to myself in the mirror. “I’ll make a round of greetings, sit for the festivities for a while then take my leave. Simple.”
I sigh. “Simple?” I heave, and my shoulders drop. I know I can try to convince myself all I want, feign conviction all I want, but I already feel enervated by the mere thought of all of the socializing that awaits me. More often than not, leading the clan seems like the greatest lie I live, I think as I fail to meet my own gaze. I rarely feel like myself in the times I am supposed to be the alpha. Right now is definitely one of those times. Brushing the thought aside, I pick up my phone. I check the time and feel almost relieved to find no notifications from the dating website.
When it’s time, I heave another sigh, puff my chest, and make my way down to the rotunda where the entire clan is gathered tonight to celebrate the end of the autumn season and the beginning of a, hopefully prosperous, winter. The festival is celebrated exactly one moon cycle before the winter solstice which concludes the year.
The winter festival is when the entire bear village turns into a cacophony of glowing fairy lights, lanterns, and lamps of all shapes and sizes. It used to be my favorite time of the year when I was a child. Back when all I cared about was going to the bonfire and playing with my friends as the elders busied themselves with ceremonies and rituals. I remember playing with Raymond and the gang. We’d lose our voice from all the screaming. I laugh at the memory. How we lived like there was no tomorrow. Times were so much simpler back then. Life was good.
I saunter down the winding pathway that cuts through the village, passing the houses embellished with lights and wreaths and shimmering festive decor. Rose calls my name when she sees me. She climbs down the steps of her house and joins me on the way. We walk down to the rotunda together.
“You look lovely, Rose. Did I already tell you that?” I say not meeting her eyes. She is wearing a red cocktail dress and red lipstick. Her attempts to catch my attention have been obvious. I am not interested in her, but I don’t have to be an ass about it. At my compliment, she wraps her hands around my left arm. I grimace but try not to let it show when she tightens her grip. I hear a soft giggle from her.
“Joshua!” Ben yells, peering down at me from his porch where he is standing atop a stool to fix a giant lamp to their porch’s ceiling. His wife, Kimberly, waves at me while handing Ben more ribbons that go around their magnificent chandelier.
“The Johnson house is turning out to be as glamorous as its inhabitants,” I say. The two of them pass each other a victorious grin.
Rose and I walk down further. I see Rin run uphill towards us with her faltering baby steps. She has a pacifier stuck in her mouth. I pick her up in my arms as she leaps towards me. Rin is the youngest daughter of my childhood friend, Rigsby. He walks out of his house with his wife Tatiana at his side. I nuzzle Rin’s cheek, and she giggles as my stubble tickles her. She has the same beady eyes as her mother and her father’s recognizable curls.
“She is an adventurer, isn’t she?” I say to Rigsby and Tatiana. I gobble at Rin’s nose pretending to eat it. She bursts into laughter each time I do.
“She takes after her mother.” Rigsby winks at Tatiana. I hand Rin over to her mother.
“You two look lovely,” Rose finally says.
The two of them are dressed in traditional bear clothing. Rigsby is wearing a white cotton shirt underneath a thin blanket that is wrapped around his body. It’s the traditional bear shifter dress called a Shoma. It goes from under his left arm then over his right shoulder. Tatiana’s drape, on the other hand, wraps around her chest as is customary for females. Rin is clad in a miniature version of her mother’s wrap-around. They look like a typical bear family dressed for the festival.
“You look fantastic, Rose.” Tatiana squeezes Rose’s hand which is still resting on my arm.
“You too, Joshua.” Her eyes narrow as she smiles at me. I feel grateful that she doesn’t refer to me and Rose as a couple. Though, it clearly annoys Rose who nudges my hand to tell me to move on. Rigsby and Tatiana join us, and we make our way down to the rotunda where the festivities and the rest of the clan members await us.
A giant bonfire is lit at the center of the rotunda, its flames crackling and cinders rising up in the sky as the wind finds its way through the woods behind the village. Round lanterns form a circular boundary around the rotunda, illuminating the entire dais. Almost every member of the bear clan is present. A group of women is dancing near the fire, chanting old hymns. Children sprint around the large space despite the constant reprimanding from the grown-ups. Rin almost leaps out of her mother’s arms and runs towards the children, chasing a group of village girls her age. Her mother runs after her.
Rose tugs at my hand and leads me up to the bonfire where a wooden log is left empty for the alpha. Several older bears are seated around the bonfire on more wooden logs. I see Eli huddled up on one of the logs, and I bow to him in greeting. Eli is one of the village seniors and my grandfather’s best friend. He has looked after me like I’m his son my whole life, and he only felt more responsible for me after my father’s death. For the longest time, I have found myself confiding in Eli. He has been a better friend to me than most.
Eli sees me and gestures for me to come nearer. I use it as an excuse to free myself from Rose’s grip and join Eli. I bow properly when I stand in front of him, and he pats me on the back.
“You look healthy, son,” he beams at me.
“You look like you missed me,” I jest in response.
Years have worn him leaner. His eyes keep digging into their sockets. He adorns the same traditional shawl around him as the other village seniors. They come in stripes of reds, blues, and whites. His clothes shine brightly against his own dull presence.
I take the empty seat beside him. The swathes of heat from the bonfire warming my skin make me unbutton my sleeves and roll them up.
I look around the rotunda. The celebration is in full bloom. Behind the circular edge of the dais, food stalls are lined in a single long row. More rows of empty seats cover the village lawns. Those are for dinner. The clan waits for the alpha to toss some meat into the bonfire as an offering before dinner can commence.
It’s about time for the ceremony, I realize when I notice a young girl fetching a plate full of meat and walking into my direction. I ask Eli to excuse me. The young ones must be hungry by now. I notice the stars already twinkling in the sky above.
The girl passes me the plate with wobbly hands. I steady her by taking hold of her before she can fall. I walk a little closer to the bonfire. All the clan members gather around in a circle. The women stop their music and dancing and join the rest of us. The children round up too, ceasing their game of tag.
“To
a long and prosperous winter,” I roar in a deep voice and raise the plate of meat for everyone to see.
“To a long and prosperous winter,” everyone chants in a chorus.
I hurl the food into the fire. A clamor of applause breaks into the crowd. Even the village seniors stand up to celebrate the moment. The meat sizzles and shrinks and chars. Just like that, another autumn comes to an end.
The children quickly run off to the food stalls as soon as the ceremony is done and the women get back to their program of all night dancing. The village seniors take their seats again. The men of the clan gather around the food stalls for dinner.
The village seniors sit around the bonfire as food is presented to them. The other bears my age are gathered on the lawns and are having an uproarious drinking party. I take some food from the stalls, make small talk with the boys then join the village elders instead. Drinking does not bring me any joy and sitting with other bears my age almost always means trouble. Half of them will still be lying drunk on the lawns at daybreak, and the other half will complain of a hangover for the rest of the week. I prefer the quiet company of the elders because they rarely force me to do anything I don’t want to.
The elders go around sharing age-old tales of glamour, honor, and valor. I listen intently for a while. They often refer to me in a manner of explaining, sharing the wisdom accrued over their lifetime. When Eli finishes his story about his days of youth when he and my grandfather would go on hunting escapades for days, I get up to take my leave. I bow to the seniors, and they excuse me without complaining.
The air has become colder now that the night has climbed on. I feel it in my bones and shove my hands into my pockets. I ascend the path up the village which is quiet save for the cicadas chirping in the distance. All the houses are vacant, still lit up with lanterns. The round ones cast bubbles of light on the path.
I hear footsteps and look up to see who it is. I see Raymond emerge from the bend up ahead. He is accompanied by his wife. I sigh and hope this won’t turn into a nuisance.