by Hunter, Lara
She pictured herself in a doomsday future: successful but lonely, filling in a mansion all by herself. I guess I wouldn’t mind cats?
She turned on the oven. Thoughts of a potentially dismal future were bumming her out, and she decided to make some of her favorite comfort food, baked potato soup, in order to calm herself down and think about something else.
Anna’s thoughts flicked between potential venues for the charity dinner (should it be approved), and the major house showing she would be conducting the next day. After spending weeks in contact with her clients, the Carsons, and working out all the details together, the open house was finally happening. A two-million dollar home. More than I’ve earned in my entire life. She felt nervous.
CHAPTER FIVE
“You brought gingerbread cookies?” Mr Carson, a lawyer in his fifties, asked. He and his wife were selling in order to upgrade their already impressive home. Anna had to admit that she felt out of place in the midst of such extravagance, but tried not to let it show.
Anna nodded. “They’re to make the home smell inviting. Although it’s already plenty welcoming on its own,” she smiled.
“Do you think we’ll be able to sell?” Mrs Carson asked.
“Absolutely. It’s gorgeous, in a prime location accessible to the best parts of Seattle, and has mountain and lake views. To someone who can afford it, it’ll be a no-brainer.”
The couple nodded. “We have confidence in you, Anna,” Mrs Carson said, before she and her husband walked out the door, leaving Anna in charge.
Within minutes, potential customers had started to arrive. “Hi there,” Anna said warmly, taking in their designer clothing. “Right this way.”
“Right here we have one of the living rooms. As you can see, the large, paneled windows provide a stunning view onto Lake Washington and Mount Olympia. You can imagine having your morning coffee with such a serene background. And the cedar paneling, which features throughout the house, creates a cozy, warm atmosphere…”
After the end of the tour, one of the prospective buyers took Anna aside and said, “My husband and I have absolutely fallen in love with this house. If no one else has made an offer at the asking price…we’ll take it,” she said excitedly.
A second couple spotted what was going on and jumped in. “We’re very interested, too,” they said quickly.
“Right,” Anna said, looking between the two couples. “So just to confirm, the asking price is two million…” Anna maintained a calm composure, but inside, she was ecstatic that not only was she going to sell the house, but she had two couples fighting over it. She resisted the urge to do a fist pump. She was in the big leagues now.
***
Of course, closing the sale was the fun part. Then came the mountains of paperwork and emails. At this point of the sale, Anna basically had to live in her inbox.
“Staying late again?” Penelope asked.
Anna yawned. “Yeah. I’ve got to deal with all this paperwork, and then there’s some more charity appeal stuff that needs doing.”
Penelope shook her head slowly. “Alright, see you tomorrow,” she said.
Yeah, I know you think I’m crazy for putting all this effort in, Penelope. And who knows, maybe you’re right. But I’m still doing it.
Anna did have to admit that her life would be easier without taking on the extra workload of getting the fundraising dinner approved. She reminded herself of why she was doing this. Yes, it was a way of distracting herself, but more importantly it was about giving back in the season of giving back. As far as distractions went, it was a stressful one. Anna was learning that Hawthorne Estates took their red tape very seriously. So far in the approval process, she had had to email six different people in HR, attend a dozen meetings, and write a memo entitled “5 Reasons Why a Charity Dinner Will Boost Our Company’s Brand”. And that’s before I even start planning the fundraiser!
Scanning her inbox, Anna was stunned when the magical words, “Request for Audience Approved” popped up. She exhaled quickly and opened the email.
Dear Ms Lionel,
Your request for the audience of Jason Hawthorne, CEO, has been approved. It has been scheduled for Wednesday October 16, 4:00 PM to 4:10 PM, at the main office.
Karen Taschuk
Secretary
A colder email could not have been written, but Anna didn’t care; she was ecstatic to have gotten through hurdle number one. Now, to get the CEO’s approval!
CHAPTER SIX
Anna was in the middle of preparing a pasta sauce for her dinner when her phone rang. Looking at the caller ID, she saw it was Cathy.
“Hey sis,” she said. “What’s up? How’s college treating you?” she inquired.
“It’s good, it’s good. Almost through with finals now. Listen—I’m not sure what to get Mom and Dad. What are you getting them?”
“I already got their presents. And I’m not telling,” Anna said cheekily. “I’m sure whatever you get them, they’ll be happy with. But shouldn’t you be worrying about your remaining finals instead of Christmas right now?”
Anna could sense Cathy’s eyes rolling even over the phone.
“Okay, Mom. Who does their Christmas shopping so early?!”
“You’re just jealous that I’m all finished,” Anna teased. “So, have you figured out how you’re getting home for Christmas?”
“Yeah, Dad’s picking me up.”
“Okay, great. Well, see you at Christmas, Cath.”
“Wait, Anna,” Cathy said quickly.
“Yeah?”
“How are you finding Seattle? Like, actually?” she asked.
Anna paused. “It’s…good. It’s a beautiful city. And work is going really well…”
“Yeah, but, are you sure you don’t feel lonely? You’re not seeing anyone, are you?” Cathy pointed out.
Anna felt embarrassed that Cathy could sum up her tortured situation in a single sentence. But she wasn’t going to admit that Cathy was right. “I mean, I have my work friends. We go for drinks once a week,” Anna said, realizing mid-sentence how lame that sounded. “I don’t know, Cathy! These things don’t happen overnight,” she said defensively.
“Okay, Anna. I just think that you should put yourself out there more. Your last serious relationship was in college, and that was forever ago. Isn’t it time you started looking for something good again?”
Anna sighed. “I don’t know, but pestering me isn’t really going to help. Shouldn’t you be focusing on not flunking your exams?”
“Okay, Anna, I was just concerned for you.”
“Okay, Cath. I appreciate your concern,” Anna said. “Really. Good luck on the rest of your finals. Love you.”
“Love you too,” Cathy said begrudgingly.
They hung up. Despite how much they could get on her nerves, Anna was really looking forward to seeing her family. The phone call had been a welcome reminder that real love and warmth were awaiting her at home. She couldn’t wait for some respite from six months of surface-level connections.
CHAPTER SEVEN
It was Wednesday and four o’clock was slowly approaching. Anna had rehearsed her presentation countless times and was feeling ready. She was somewhat nervous, but mostly she wanted to get on with the meeting, wow the CEO, get the approval, and get planning.
She made her way from her desk to the elevator and pressed the button to go up. When the car arrived and the doors opened, Penelope stepped out.
“What’s up?” Penelope asked.
“Just on my way to get our esteemed CEO to approve this thing,” Anna said.
“Ooh. Well, just don’t take it personally,” Penelope said softly, as Anna pressed the button for the top floor.
“Why would I…” Anna started, but was cut off as the elevator doors closed.
Moments later, Anna stepped out onto the top floor lobby and the secretary motioned for her to take a seat. She had arrived ten minutes early, intending to use the time to mentally rehearse h
er talking points one last time. She glanced out the window at the bustling downtown. Still no snow! Anna thought, disappointed. But it’s December!
At precisely four o’clock, the secretary told her: “You can go in now.”
Anna opened the heavy wooden door and walked in confidently before closing the door behind her. “It’s nice to finally meet you. I’m Anna Lionel,” she said, approaching the desk and extending her hand.
So this my boss. In the flesh. He looked younger than she’d expected, in his late-20s, perhaps. He had a sort of boy-next-door thing going on, and blond hair and blue eyes. Okay, maybe more like man-next-door… Anna thought, noting his defined jaw and broad shoulders.
The late-afternoon sun glinted on the gold lettering of the nameplate in front of him, “Jason Hawthorne, CEO”. Really nice view, Anna noted. As to be expected.
Jason looked up at her extended hand. “And what do you want?” he asked, frowning.
Anna was taken aback at his coldness, but tried not to let it show. She cleared her throat, and moved over to the waiting projector, thinking it best to launch into her presentation as soon as possible.
“Right now, we’re post-recession,” Anna began, gesturing to an image of the fluctuating stock market. “But there remains a collective scar in the psyche of the market. People are wary; clients have lost faith and trust in the housing sector.” Anna switched to a slide featuring the Hawthorne Estates logo and a picture of smiling people. “And that’s where we come in. We’re not one of those greedy companies that is just after our clients’ money—we actually care,” she said confidently, clicking through to the next slide. “We can demonstrate that we care via a Christmas fundraising dinner. Clients and employees of Hawthorne Estates can mingle, network and celebrate the holiday season, while raising money for a great, and relevant, cause: shelter for the homeless. A great way to build connectedness between coworkers and between clientele, at minimal cost to the company,” Anna concluded. She shut off the projector and flicked on the lights, waiting for Jason to respond. She caught herself holding her breath.
He was silent for while, before looking up at her for the briefest of seconds. “You can do your little charity appeal. Just make sure it doesn’t affect our margins,” he said, then motioned for her to leave.
Doesn’t affect our margins?! It’s a charity dinner for God’s sake! Did you not hear the part about us not being one of those greedy companies?
While she was happy that the dinner was officially approved, Anna did not take kindly to such cold treatment. She tried not to let her anger show, knowing that whatever the CEO said to her, the ends would justify the means. “That’s great, thank you,” she said to him, smiling through gritted teeth and steaming internally as she made her way out of his luxurious office. She was waiting by the elevator when she’d realized she’d forgotten something.
“Here,” she said to Karen, pulling out a few Christmas trinkets from her bag. “To help inject some holiday spirit into the office,” she said. She attempted to sound cheery but in her anger and haste, ended up practically throwing the trinkets down onto the desk. Karen stared back at her, wide-eyed.
CHAPTER EIGHT
This time at Wednesday drinks, Anna enthusiastically echoed, “To another Wednesday finished with,” along with the rest of her coworkers, because this Wednesday had not been kind to her. I guess it’s true how negative things stick in your mind more than positive ones. Her workday had ended with the approval she was seeking, and yet she still felt grumpy because of the way the CEO had treated her. No, that can’t be the only reason why I’m mad. There has to be something else that is irking me…
“So…” nudged Penelope, “how did our esteemed CEO find your presentation? Did you get that approval?”
Anna took a long sip of her beer. “Ugh, I don’t even want to talk about it. I always thought you guys were exaggerating about what a curmudgeon he was, but yeesh. It was pretty painful interacting with him.”
“Aw, I’m sorry he didn’t approve it,” Jane said sympathetically. “But you can be proud that you got further than most people!”
“Oh right, well I did get it approved, actually,” Anna clarified. “He was just an asshole about it,” she said.
“Wait, so you actually got it approved?” Victor exclaimed. “That…never happens,” he said.
The rest of the team nodded fervently. “You did good, Anna, you should be proud of yourself,” Kirk said.
Anna’s mood wasn’t much improved by the news that she, out of everyone who had tried, had been the first to coax an approval out of the CEO’s cold heart. “It’s not as if we’re asking him to donate a kidney or something,” she muttered. “And, also, what is with him taking two weeks off while we’re expected to work practically right up until Christmas day?!” she raged on. It was uncharacteristic of her to be so angry, but apparently Jason Hawthorne’s miserly attitude had pushed just the right buttons in her.
Victor smirked. “Hey, one day, when you climb the ranks and become a magnate, you, too, can make your underlings work during the holidays while you go get wasted on a yacht somewhere.”
Anna sighed, shaking her head. The coworkers sipped their drinks quietly.
“Anna, don’t be so upset, okay?” Penelope said. “Jason is an asshole to literally everybody, don’t take it personally.”
“So he gets an asshole pass while the rest of us have to act like decent, respectable people?” Anna grumbled.
“The asshole pass is granted to all rich people, not just Jason Hawthorne, young grasshopper,” Victor joked.
Anna was going to protest, but she sensed that she was reaching her coworkers’ complaint threshold. “Alright, alright, I’ll drop it,” she said. Switching to a more cheery tone, she asked, “So I’ll see you all at the dinner, right?”
“You bet’cha,” Penelope said, and the others nodded.
On her bus ride home—Anna never drove on Wednesdays—she dissected her mood. The resentment had somewhat cleared and left room for objectivity. It’s not just that he was rude… she thought, racking her brains. Suddenly, a light bulb clicked on. Oh my God. What’s bugging me is his total lack of regard for the holidays, she realized. So, apparently, I have this primal defense of Christmas within me. Like a momma bear with her cubs. I’m the momma bear, and the cubs are the holiday spirit. She started giggling at the absurdity of it, inciting a few raised eyebrows from the surrounding bundled-up passengers.
Makes sense, given my history…
***
“Mommy, how come you and Daddy never pretended that Santa exists?” an eight-year-old Anna asked, swinging her legs as she sat at the dinner table while her mother heated up some soup. In one hand, she clutched a disintegrating rag doll that was almost as old as her.
Smelling food, the family dog Bayou came shuffling in. He rested his head on Anna’s lap, biding his time before he could begin scrambling for leftovers.
Her mother, Jenny, turned away from the stove, bouncing Anna’s one-year-old sister, Cathy, on her hip. She’d gotten home from her shift at the factory an hour ago, and her whole being seemed to sag with exhaustion. Anna couldn’t recall a time in her early years that her mother didn’t have bags under her eyes.
“Oh…” her mother said, caught off-guard by the question. “I suppose we never had the time for all of that,” she said wearily.
“But Mom!” Anna protested. “When I told Katie and Jimmy that Santa doesn’t exist, they cried. And then they wouldn’t play with me.”
Jenny sighed, freeing up one hand to tuck a lock of hair behind Anna’s ear. “They might feel sad now, but they’ll move on soon enough, sweetie.” Her mother placed Cathy in the high chair before pouring some soup into a bowl for Anna. “Here you go. The food bank had Alphabet Soup, your favorite.”
Anna beamed and set to work arranging words in her soup. “Look, Mommy—noct-urn-al! Like owls and bats and Daddy.”
Her mother smiled, looking impressed. “That’s my Anna
,” she said, shuffling her daughter’s hair. “But Daddy isn’t nocturnal, sweetie—he just works the late shift,” she corrected.
Anna never saw much of her father, Karl, except for an hour or two before he left for his evening shift as a security guard. Before Cathy was born, her father would sleep during the day. But now he would take care of Cathy while Anna’s mom worked at the factory, taking a nap as soon as she came home, before going out to work himself.
As soon as Anna finished her soup, her mother took her bowl away. Since her mother wasn’t working overtime for once, Anna knew this was the cue for schoolwork.