“I can’t believe this is happening. I mean, I always thought I would get married and be happy about it, and he hasn’t even really asked me yet, but it just all seems so far past my wildest dreams, like I’m going to wake up one day and still be single in college and working as a receptionist.”
“Hey, it is real, and you completely deserve it. Andrew is a great man and you two couldn’t be more perfect for each other if you tried. It’s almost nauseating how cute you guys are together.”
Jenny smiled. “Thanks, Lizzy.”
“So, when do you want me to come help you pack?”
“How about next weekend? It won’t take long and I think we could get through the things I really need to take in a day.”
“Perfect. I’ll keep Saturday clear for you. Congratulations, sis. I couldn’t be happier for you.”
“Thanks, Lizzy.”
33
Happy Birthday
Mid-March
11 Months Married
March flew by and before she knew it, Liz was writing her final internship paper. Jen was happily settled with Andrew in a scene of domestic bliss so sweet it gave Liz a toothache. Things had calmed down work-wise once Mark’s book was launched, and she’d only seen him twice since then. Socially, invitations picked up as the weather got warmer, but they were selective about what they accepted and less anxious to be seen than they had been the previous year. They were an established couple in the eyes of society and the press, and aside from the odd photo at an opening or charity event, their names never appeared in the paper, much to William’s very vocal relief.
Her internship would be over in a few weeks at the beginning of May and while she would be glad to not fetch so many cups of coffee in one day, she would also miss it. She’d built friendships with the other interns and some of the younger employees, and she greatly respected the people she worked with, though she would be happy not to see Mr. Shankman anymore—he was particularly insufferable. It was hard and exhausting and definitely kept her on her toes, but she loved every minute of it and wouldn’t trade it for anything.
“All right, that’s it. That’s your fifth sigh tonight. What’s wrong?” Will asked.
“It’s nothing. I’m just a little sad it’s almost over, that’s all,” Liz said from her place on the couch beside him.
He closed his laptop and faced her. “Are you sad about school or work?”
“Both, I suppose. I’ll still keep in touch with my classmates, but it won’t be the same. Alice already got a job in Cincinnati. She’s leaving in May. Sheila starts her Ph.D. program in August. Jen’s moved in with Andrew, he’ll probably pop the question any day now and then she’ll move to the suburbs and make babies. Everybody’s moving on and life is changing and I just…” she made a face and burrowed deeper under her blanket.
“Come here, baby.” He pulled her closer to him and rubbed her arm. “It’s a big time of transition and everyone is scattering different directions. It’s your time of life. It will continue to happen as your sisters go to college and get jobs and move around. It’s what happens in your twenties. Everyone is figuring out what they’re going to do with themselves and things have to shift accordingly.”
She snuggled under his shoulder and said, “I know. It’s natural and normal and all of that, but I don’t have to like it.”
He chuckled. “No, you don’t.” They sat like that for several minutes and he continued to rub her shoulder and hold her close. Finally, he broke the silence. “Have you decided what you’re going to do next?”
“Have I decided whether I’ll accept a job at Taggston? No,” she pouted.
“Have you thought about going on and getting your Ph.D?”
Her head perked up slightly and Will continued.
“We talked about it once a while ago and you were interested. Are you still? You have the perfect opportunity to go now, if you want to.”
“You would be okay with that?”
“Of course I would, why wouldn’t I be?”
“It wasn’t part of our original deal.”
“Liz,” he lifted her chin to face him. “I want what’s best for you. I want you to be happy, whether that’s working or continuing your education or opening a shelter for homeless cats.”
“Really?”
“Of course.”
“I suppose I could,” she said thoughtfully.
“Just think about it. You still have a few weeks to decide.”
***
“So what do you plan to do after graduation?” Laura asked when Liz met her for lunch in her office a few days later.
“Why does everyone keep asking me that?” said Liz.
“Because that’s what you ask someone who has spent the last six years of her life getting educated and is now about to be finished.”
Liz huffed. “I don’t know.”
“I thought you wanted to work in publishing. What happened to that? Weren’t you expecting an offer from Taggston?” Laura asked as she took another bite of her salad.
“I’m expecting one, but it hasn’t happened yet. If they do offer, I haven’t decided whether I’ll take it or not.”
“Elaborate, please,” said Laura before sipping her iced tea.
“I do like publishing and the idea of working in the industry, but there are so many facets of it that I don’t really know which one I want, but I do know a few that I don’t want.”
“And where does editing assistant fall?”
“I like it okay. It’s a stepping stone to associate editor and eventually editor, and I enjoy certain aspects of it, but I’m not sure I want to be an editor every day. I’ve spent so many years doing multiple things, doing just one thing every day feels boring somehow.” Liz fiddled with the straw in her tea.
“It’s hard choosing a career and a specialty within that. I remember when I was trying to choose between property and contract law. I agonized over it for weeks. Then I assisted on a divorce and custody case and bam, I knew.”
“I’ve been waiting for my ‘bam’ moment, but it hasn’t happened yet. I thought it would by now, especially with my internship.”
“Let’s think about this logically. Tell me what you’re thinking so far,” Laura encouraged.
“Well, I’ve worked with marketing and I really didn’t enjoy that. I did like writing the blurbs for the jackets and talking ideas with the art department, which is something an editor could do.” She looked thoughtful for a moment. “I liked talking to the authors, working with them when they were trying to figure out when something didn’t mesh in the story, discussing characters. Or listening in while others discussed, I should say. They can be trying, though. Especially the ‘artistic’ ones.”
“Of course.”
“I liked putting it all together, seeing how everything came together to make this beautiful book, it was very rewarding. But it was also really frustrating when a great manuscript came in and I loved it and the editor loved it and the agent who sent it loved it, but then marketing shot it down. What do they know about books?” She waved her hand in frustration. “That feeling, that idea that something is only worth what it can be stamped as and sold for is nauseating. It didn’t really matter if it was well-written or complete tripe, if it was something they could market, they wanted it. If it was challenging, or out of the box, or, God forbid, over their heads, they passed on it.”
“So would you be able to get past those annoyances and enjoy everything else about being an editor?”
“I don’t know. Probably. I also really liked what I did with Mark.”
“Yeah? Like what specifically?”
“Well, I did a little bit of everything. There was some editing involved, but there were also creative aspects, like discussing the characters and the plot direction. I liked being more involved in the story, not coming in so late to the game like an editor does, but being in the thick of it right from the beginning. It was fascinating to see how the creative process actually works and I just,” she sighed, “I
just really liked it.”
“Wow. You seem more excited about that than the other. So why don’t you be a writing assistant if that’s what you love?”
“Two reasons: It doesn’t pay much, and there isn’t much of a market for it. Who would I even work for?”
“Maybe Mark knows someone who needs an assistant? He could at least give you a good reference and tell his editor you’re looking for a client.”
“Is that what I’d call the writers I’d work with? Clients?” Liz said with a smile.
“Fine, authors. Anyway, you work for a publishing house now, surely you could talk to someone there and they could send something your way. And maybe Mark will want you himself for his next book. Won’t he write another?”
“Probably. Yeah, I suppose I could,” Liz said thoughtfully. “Will suggested I get my Ph.D.”
Laura coughed. “Whoa. Are you going to do it?”
“I don’t know. I’m really late getting started with applications if I decide to do it, but I could still squeeze everything in I think.”
“Is that what you really want? I thought you were tired of school and wanted to get on with real life?”
“I am, I do, but Will made a good point when he said it was the perfect time to do it if I wanted to. He’d pay my tuition and I could live for free, well, you know what I mean, and it would be a lot easier to do it now than when I’m older, and it would enable me to teach at a university.”
“Yeah, technically, but tenure track jobs are really hard to get and they don’t pay much either, and they’re rife with politics.”
“True.”
“What about writing something yourself?”
“I don’t know, I don’t think I have enough life experience right now to write something people would actually want to read and not get laughed out of the publishing business.”
“Sounds like you have a few legitimate options: work as an editing assistant at Taggston and start on the road to editor, continue on as a writing assistant with new authors, or get your Ph.D.”
“Yeah, that doesn’t sound confusing at all!” Liz joked.
“Hey, they’re all good options. You could be looking at cosmetology school at night or babysitting in a trailer park.”
Liz grimaced, both thinking of her cousin Mary who was only a few years older than Liz but had four kids and was taking night classes so she could eventually cut hair on the weekends.
“Thanks for the reminder. I’ll stop being a baby now.”
Laura nudged her playfully and folded her hands on the table.
“Why don’t you do this: take this time that you’re living with Will and be a writing assistant. A job like that will take a while to build up clientele and contacts and experience, but if you’re good at it, you’ll eventually build those up. When you split from Will, you’ll have a place to live and enough money to live on for a few years, and by the time you even come close to running out, you should have built up enough authors to live off your income and maybe you’ll be ready to write your own book by then. You could probably just invest your settlement and the interest can supplement your income so that a high-paying job isn’t as important.” Liz’s brows shot up and Laura shrugged. “Hey, you made a very lucrative move early on, kid. Consider yourself lucky. Now you can do what you really want to do without stressing about the money. Obviously, the decision is yours, but you don’t seem to really want the Ph.D, it just looks smart to take it.”
Liz nodded. “You know me too well.”
“And you’ve already done both of the other jobs, the publishing house and the writing assistant. You seem more excited about the writing assistant thing, even though I know you had your fair share of drama with Mark.”
“Yeah, I have to admit I do like the idea of it a bit more. It just seems a little less rat-racey, like maybe I would have more freedom over my own life. And of course we can’t dismiss the elephant in the room. Taggston is Will’s company. If I stay on there, people will eventually realize we’re married. What will happen then? Will I be shunned, sucked up to, treated like a big cheater for using my connections to get ahead?”
“All valid points, and the fact is you just don’t know.”
“Exactly. And what will happen when we break up? I had this conversation with Will and he said he wouldn’t let anyone blackball me, but I don’t know,” she said hesitantly. “If someone is mad at me for using my marriage to get ahead, or just doesn’t like me for some reason, that would make an excellent excuse to push me out. I feel like post-divorce, being a writing assistant might actually be the safer bet.” They rose and grabbed their purses, heading out of the office.
“Well, whatever you do, make sure it’s something you really want to do. No one is as good at a job they hate as they are at a job they love. Trust me, I suck at property law.”
“Ah, Laura, always with a plan,” she said with a smile, though her wheels were turning on what her friend had said.
“Hey, comes with the territory. Speaking of which, I have to be in court in an hour. Take care, sweetie. I’ll see you later.” She kissed Liz on the cheek and rushed down the sidewalk, leaving a thoughtful Liz behind her.
**
Later that night, as they were sitting down to eat dinner at the kitchen island, Liz asked Harper, “Do you remember a while ago I asked if you would teach me how to invest money and you said that you would?”
“Yes, I remember. Why?”
“Well, will you?”
“Of course. What did you have in mind?”
“I don’t know, but I was thinking about the future and how I would like something to be growing and earning income for me without me having to chase after it, you know what I mean?”
“Yes, I understand exactly. It might be a good idea to start with some simple stocks. Why don’t I set up a meeting for you with one of Taggston’s finance guys? They’re much better at explaining all of this than I am.”
“That would be great, but would they mind? Surely they have really busy schedules?”
“They will if I ask them to,” he said.
She saw that flicker of arrogance that sometimes showed up in him, his Lord of the Manor face. “Why don’t we make it something informal? Like maybe we could all go out to dinner or you could invite him over here and I can make something for everyone?”
“Sounds good. I’ll set it up.”
**
Tom Donahue was an affable man in his early forties with a habit of talking with his hands. He sat across the table from Liz and William at their favorite Italian place and gave Liz a crash course in high finance. She had trouble keeping her attention on his face when her eyes were constantly drawn to the glass he was holding, the wine swishing around wildly but never actually spilling as he punctuated words like starting capital, amortization, and economic stability.
When he stopped to take a sip, Liz asked him about smart investments for long-term growth, specifically real estate versus stocks. She knew she sounded horribly ignorant, but that’s why she was there after all. In the end, Donahue recommended she invest in simple stocks for long term retirement goals, to begin with. Once she was comfortable with that, he thought she should look into more involved investments, like funding startups. He agreed that real estate was a good idea, given certain parameters, and answered all of her random questions graciously.
He was a little curious that she was interested in investing outside of her husband, but Harper quickly explained that Liz was an independent woman and didn’t want to rely on Harper for everything she needed. She jokingly whispered “pre-nup” behind her hand and he laughed, especially when Harper elbowed her in the ribs and mock glared at her.
“How do I know you won’t trade me in for a newer model when I’m forty, hmm?” she teased him.
He looked at her seriously and said, “Because you never trade in a classic.”
She blushed and looked across the table to Mr. Donahue, who was smiling at their antics.
“T
hank you so much for the help, Mr. Donahue. I really appreciate it.”
Liz smiled and Donahue nodded and assured her that it had been his pleasure. “Any time you have any questions at all, Mrs. Harper, don’t hesitate to call. I’d be happy to help.”
As they were walking home from the restaurant, Harper said, “Well, what did you think?”
“I learned a lot. He really knows a lot about money. And it’s even clearer that I really don’t. I didn’t understand half of what he was saying back there.”
“You’ll get the hang of it eventually.”
“Yeah, probably.”
“So what do you think you’ll start with?”
“I’ll probably do like he recommended and do the funds.” Harper nodded. “I’ve been thinking about property, too. It just seems more tangible, you know? I actually know people with rental houses. It doesn’t seem quite so intimidating, somehow.”
“Yes, I see what you mean. It can be a good long term investment if it’s the right property.”
“Is your sister still planning on coming over in the summer? Maybe she could help me choose something.”
“Really? You do realize that if you tell Jacqueline you’re interested in property, she’ll call you every day and send you tile samples and lighting catalogues?”
“Yeah, but maybe that wouldn’t be so bad,” she said distractedly. “She knows a lot more about it than I do and it would probably be stupid to pass up the help.”
“Your call, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
***
“So what do you want to do for your birthday?” Jen asked.
“What do you mean? My birthday was last week,” said Liz.
“I know. I wanted us all to go out and celebrate but you were busy with work and some paper with a deadline and Will was out of town, so you said we’d do something when Will was back and you’d finished your paper.” Liz shot her a look that Jen returned. “Well, it’s April. And you said earlier that you just finished your final paper.”
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