A Fresh Start

The deadline on the financial report her boss requested is dangerously creeping up on her. She probably (no, definitely) shouldn't have gone out for drinks with Hannah and Lexi last night, but the need to unwind and have some fun came out the winner against her responsible self. She steals a glance at her watch and takes a sharp inhale. Five o'clock is now only fifteen minutes away and she's no closer to finishing than she was at noon.

The problem isn't that she needs more time, it's that she hates her job. Sophie has always been a dreamer, with a desire to write fiction and travel the world, longing to discover inspiration in the long-lost corners of the earth. So, the fact that she's sitting in a cubicle at a publishing house in Austin, TX working on a quarterly financial report proves to be much harder work than it actually is since it's the most uninspiring and unfilling type of work she can imagine.

She took the job right out of college because, well, she needed a job and this one happened to provide benefits and a stable salary. However, that was 5 years ago. She's now 26 and finds herself wondering on the daily how she is still stuck at this job that was just supposed to be a temporary stop on the expressway to her dreams. She's in the middle of one of these daily mopings when her boss appears quite suddenly at her cubicle, "How's that report coming?"

Crap. She thinks. How do I spin this? I can't, really.

"It's great. Almost done. Just need to polish a few things and do some double-checking. Would you mind if I have it on your desk first thing tomorrow morning?"

Brian doesn't look happy, but then again, he never really does. He's 45 and probably thinks the same thing Sophie does every day, "How did I end up here?"

He looks like he might chastise her for a brief moment, but then he just sighs and says, "Sure. But make sure it's first thing."

"You got it, boss. Have a nice evening!"

She cringes at the excitement she put on her goodbye, thinking she might've overdone it. But whatever, he's walking away now and she can get back to the task at hand.

Focus. She tells herself. But, not surprisingly, she can't. It's 5 now anyway, she might as well call it a day and finish the report at home where she can power through with the help of some pizza and a glass of wine.

Sophie starts gathering up her things, triple-checking her desk to make sure she has everything before walking away. She catches a glimpse of herself in the tiny mirror hanging on her wall and takes in her appearance with a sigh. Her ashy brown hair is disheveled and in desperate need of some TLC. Not to mention her skin could use some help from a regular facial regimen. Her simple work attire made up of grey slacks, a mauve blouse and a black blazer looks boring compared to the stuff she used to wear.

When did I let myself get like this? She thinks. I'm not boring...

On the way to the elevator, she passes Lisa's desk which has the all familiar photograph of Venice, Italy hanging on the wall above it. Every morning and every evening she sees that picture, and every time it causes her soul to ache for the adventure she's been craving all these years. In the beginning, it was a good ache, a hope-filled tug at her heart. Now, it's become more like despair, knowing that her dream is slowly but surely slipping away. She shakes her head and hops on the elevator, pushing the bottom for the garage.

Stop being so pitiful, Sophie. She tells herself. You have nothing to complain about. And yet, the longing is always there in her mind.

On the drive to her apartment, she opts for silence, forgoing her normal news update podcast. She's feeling creative, and the quiet helps her let her mind run free. She hasn't written in a while, other than the daily thoughts she pens before bed every night in her little black book. It's nothing special, she bought it for less than $5 on the sale table at a local bookstore across from her apartment almost a year ago, but it does the trick. As she pulls into her apartment's parking garage she thinks she might have the seed of a story spinning.

When she enters her apartment she's more than ready to sit down at her laptop and start writing but remembers she forgot to check the mail on her way up. With an overly dramatic huff she puts her things down by the couch then makes the descend to the main floor of the complex.

She struggles with the mail key as always (it's never fit quite right) but finally manages to get the box open. Inside there is just one letter, and upon closer inspection, Sophie sees it's from her great-grandmother on her dad's side.

That's odd. She thinks.

It's odd because this is the great-grandmother who disowned the family over 15 years ago when Sophie was only 10. Sophie had asked her parents countless times what happened back then, but they always gave her the go-around. Then, when her parents passed in a car crash when she was 14 the family drama became a forever mystery to her. Sophie is the only remaining family member her grandmother has, but she's been unavailable (or unwanting) of Sophie's advances over the last decade.

She starts the climb back up to her apartment, extremely curious as to what's inside the envelope. She has mixed feelings about the letter. On one hand, she excited and hopeful, because who wouldn't want to have a relationship with their grandparents? Yet, on the other hand, she's a little bit angry. Why now? What's happened that has led her grandma to reach out to her at this time?

She pours herself a glass of merlot once back in the apartment then sits down on the Ikea couch in her den, letter in hand, waiting to be opened. After staring at it for a couple of minutes (and after a few sips, or rather, gulps of wine) she finally tears into it.

It's a simple, one-page, hand-written document that's so beautifully penned it almost looks fake. But, that's her grandmother. Sophie remembers her always being elegant and classy with the finest clothes and jewelry, always carrying herself with poise.

Sophie takes a deep breath and begins to read,

My dearest Sophie,

If you're reading this it means I've passed on. Now I don't expect you to be sad, for we were never close in the way that some grandmothers are with their granddaughters. I'll keep this short for I'm sure you are a busy young woman. I always saw in you a flicker of myself, and though we haven't spoken in over a decade, I've thought of you often. You have the spark of a dreamer in you, and it upsets me that you aren't fanning that spark into a flame. To cut to the chase, in the event of my passing $20,000 will be deposited into your bank account to use however you wish. I hope you use it well, and by well I mean on a fresh start or a new adventure. You're too young to settle for a life of monotony.

Sincerely,

Neva Townsend

As Sophie sets the letter down on the sofa beside her she realizes she's crying. She can't believe the first time in 15 years she hears from her grandma it's to tell her that she's dead. She aches for the relationship she never got to have with her now-deceased grandma, and on top of that feels awful for letting her down. It takes several minutes before the light bulb comes on and she remembers the bit about the money. She quickly snatches the letter back up to re-read it several more times.

$20,000? That can't be right. She wonders as she opens the bank app on her phone. When she sees the account balance her jaw almost hits the floor. It's there alright. Twenty thousand dollars that weren't there yesterday are now sitting in her account.

She sits back on the couch speechless. Shutting her eyes, she tries to process everything that's happening. She feels an overwhelming pain from the absence of her parents. Sophie has friends, and she never really feels lonely. But right now, she wishes she had her parents with her. She's now had to mourn the loss of 3 close relatives all on her own. Sophie's always been strong, though. Still, dealing with loss on your own is never fun or easy. She's been silently crying for some time (she's not sure how long) when she starts to think about what her grandma said in the letter.

I hope you use it well, and by well I mean on a fresh start or a new adventure. You're too young to settle for a life of monotony.

Something awakens in Sophie as she ponders her grandmother's words. She's tired of never taking risks or following her dreams, for letting the fear of failure keep her from pursuing her passions and enjoying life. She wipes her eyes with the hem of her shirt and pours herself another glass of wine, picking up her phone to order pizza.

First, pizza. Second, make a plan. She's not wasting any more time. Tonight, she's starting what she should've done years ago.

"Thanks, grandma," she says out loud to the empty apartment. "I won't let you down."

The next morning when she arrives at work she heads straight to her boss's office. She knocks on his door twice, anxious, but mostly excited about what she's going to do.

When he says, "Come in," she walks confidently through the door.

"Brian, I've decided to quit."

She can't believe she said it. She smiles so big that Brian looks at her like she's gone loony.

"Sophie, are you okay? Do you have that report for me?"

"No," she says, "I don't have the report. And I am sorry about that. I brought the unfinished version but I won't be completing it because I quit."

She lays the report on his desk and turns to walk away when he says,

"You can't be serious! Where is this even coming from?"

She turns back toward him with a soft smile, "I'm sorry it's so abrupt, and I definitely could've handled this better. But I was afraid if I put it off any longer I'd never do it, and this needs to be done."

Sophie quickly turns and leaves his office, not wanting to drag this thing out any longer. He follows her out though and stops her as she approaches Lisa's desk.

"Sophie, you need to think about this. I'm willing to forget this even happened. You're a great employee and everyone here really likes having you around. What will you even do? Where will you go?"

Brian looks at her expectantly (and confused) as he waits for her response.

She looks at the picture above Lisa's desk, the one of Venice that she's seen every day for the past five years.

She points to the picture and says, "There. That's where I'm going."

She hops on the elevator, leaving a frustrated Brian squinting at the picture trying to figure out what just happened.

As the doors close she shuts her eyes and smiles. Her fresh start begins now.