The Perfect Day

“Beth, you won!” Shelley’s face is pink with excitement as she bursts into my office.

“Won?” I echo, giving her a blank look. “Won what?”

“The company lotto!”

I feel my pulse flutter. “I won?”

Mirabel Outfitters—the company I’ve devoted the last decade of my life to—had recently decided to run a company-wide raffle, open to anyone who’d been forced to take unpaid time off during the pandemic. I know I was luckier than some; management had only missed four weeks, while other employees had missed out on more than three months of work.

The grand prize is twenty-thousand dollars, and my mouth goes dry as I imagine what I could buy with that type of money.

“Are you messing with me, Shelley? Because if this is your way of getting back at me for the whole Brad incident, I already told you, I genuinely thought you two would hit it off. How was I supposed to know he was the same guy who broke your heart?”

Shelley’s cheeks turn a furious shade of red and I instantly regret bringing it up. “I dated Brad for three years Beth! Three. He used to bring me lunch at my desk every day. How could you not have known?”

Her eyes fill with tears and I want to go back to talking about the contest, but I force a warm smile onto my face. “Come on Shell, I really am sorry. Didn’t I send you that nice bottle of Champagne to make it up to you?” I hope I sent it. I definitely meant to…

“I guess,” she sniffs. Phew. “It’s just I miss him so much, and it’s so hard to see him around the office, you know?”

“Mmm.” I’m tempted to point out this is the risk of dating someone you work with, but something tells me this might be the sort of unsolicited advice my therapist has warned me against giving. Scrolling through my emails, I tune Shelley out as she rambles on about Brad and something to do with his new girlfriend Emily.

“Ohmygosh!” I interrupt, shoving back my chair. “I did win! Holy—“ I cut myself off as I see the look on her face.

Shelley sighs, then gets to her feet. “Congratulations,” she offers, but her smile doesn’t quite make it to her eyes and I make a mental note to send her another gift. Maybe a credit for my salon? Her highlights could use a touch-up.

“Thanks.” As the door shuts behind her I stand up and do a little happy dance. Twenty-thousand dollars! I make a decent salary, but after I pay my mortgage and the lease on my BMW there isn’t a lot leftover for frivolous things. With that type of cash I could finally go on the glamping safari I saw on Instagram, or spend a few weeks in the Caribbean…

My eyes drift shut as I day-dream about how I’m going to spend it all.

The rest of the day flies by, with various people coming in and out to congratulate me on the raffle. I can’t say my afternoon is overly productive in the work department, but by the time I leave my office I’ve pretty much decided it’s time to see it rain down in Africa, instead of Vancouver.

Rachel—another member of my team—is waiting for the elevator when I arrive. I give her a beaming smile, unable to contain my good mood. Then I get a good look at her and the smile fades from my face. She looks awful. Her eyes are rimmed with red and I consider asking if she’s all right, but in the end decide against it. I’m in too good of a mood, and I’m terrible at that sort of thing anyways.

Instead we make small-talk until we stop at the main floor. Rachel waves, and as she pulls her keys out of her purse a little black notebook falls to the ground between us. She doesn’t notice, and I try to call out to her. “Hey, Rachel—“ The elevator doors slide shut before I get her attention.

Bending down I pick up the book, appreciating the quality of its leather-bound cover. Opening it up, I realize it’s a diary. I immediately go to close it again, not wanting to invade her privacy, but stop when I catch a glimpse of my name written on the last page.

Of course Beth would win the raffle. She doesn’t have anyone to worry about but herself, and she makes more money than all of us. It always seems like some people have all the luck. I hope she appreciates it as much as the rest of us would have. I wonder what she’ll do with the money?

Shelley would have used that money to help pay her mother’s hospice bill.

Ted can’t even afford the insurance on his car right now, and Jason is driving Uber at night to pay off the credit card debt he racked up while he was off work.

As for me…I know better than anyone not to get my hopes up, but I couldn’t help myself. I could have used it to give Sarah one perfect day, before she…

The rest of the sentence is blotched out from what I have to assume are Rachel’s tears. My good mood is gone, and the hands holding the diary are shaking as I turn the pages, looking for anymore mention of myself. Little excerpts here and there remind me of the time I forgot Ted’s birthday, and forced everyone to do a last-minute conference call instead of having cake and wine. Or the time Ellen’s mother had a heart attack, and she was too afraid to ask me for a day off so she came in after being at the hospital all night, and I told her she looked unacceptably tired.

The elevator dings and I realize I’ve managed to take it all the way back upstairs again. Shelley gets on, giving me a strange look. “Beth. Did you forget something?”

“No,” I answer, clearing my throat. My face is burning, and I push the diary guiltily into my purse. “I got distracted and wasn’t paying attention.”

Shelley nodded, offering me what appeared to be a genuine smile. “Do you have any exciting plans for the money? I know you really wanted to go on that Safari.”

“You knew that?” I can’t even remember mentioning it to her.

“Of course.” She gives me a surprised look. “We were working on the contract for the hunting lodge, and we got to talking about those awful people who hunt animals in Africa. Then you showed me a photo of some national park on Instagram. That’s why your secret Santa got you the Safari hat for Christmas.”

I am stunned into silence. My secretary managed to remember one tiny, off-hand comment I made and turn it into a thoughtful gift—which I clearly did not appreciate for what it was—and I couldn’t even remember the name of her long-term partner. Who I also work with.

Driving home the sun seems falsely cheerful, and I glance over at Rachel’s notebook lying on the seat next to me. Is that what everyone thinks of me? That I don’t care about anyone or anything other than work and myself?

An uncomfortable pit forms in my stomach as I take a good look back at the last ten years. Have I ever really made an effort to get to know anyone? To show them I saw them as real people with real problems, and not just co-workers there to do a monotonous corporate job?

The answer is inarguable and I feel sick and sweaty as I let myself into my apartment. I don’t even bother taking off my shoes, torn between wanting to devour every single word of Rachel’s innermost thoughts and being afraid to look, knowing I might not like what I see.

In the end curiosity beats fear and morality, and I dive back in.

I wonder what it’s like to be Beth. She seems so confident, so in control. She doesn’t care what anyone else thinks, and she isn’t afraid to go after what she wants. If things were different, I would want Sarah to grow up to be like her.

Wait. What?

I flip forward a few pages, my heart beating rapidly in my chest. Six pages later, my breath catches in my throat and I put a hand over my lips.

The next day I call a meeting, requesting the presence of everyone in my department. Shelley settles herself into the chair next to mine, fingers poised and ready to take notes. Ted and Ellen walk in together, followed shortly after by Jason, Brad and finally Rachel. Each of them look more wary than the previous, and I cringe as I realize they most likely believe they’re about to be laid off.

“As you all know, I won the company lotto yesterday,” I begin, without preamble. The way they all studiously avoid eye contact isn’t lost on me. “However, I’ve decided I won’t be keeping it.”

There is nothing but silence as everyone looks up at me in shock.

“Rachel, you dropped this in the elevator yesterday.” I hand her the notebook, watching her face go pale. “I would like to say I’m sorry for reading it, but if I hadn’t, I might never have realized how selfish I’ve been. I harp about open communication and teamwork, but I’ve never once given you—any of you—any indication to believe I actually practice what I preach. I’m sorry if I’ve made you all feel like you didn’t matter to me on a personal level, and it’s something I’m going to work hard at changing moving forward from now.”

“Beth,” Shelley begins, her eyes wide.

I hold up a hand. “I don’t apologize often, so let me get this out.” My eyes go to Rachel again. “Rachel. Your daughter, Sarah. She has cancer?”

She nods, staring down at the desk as everyone around her shifts uncomfortably in their seats.

“Whatever her idea of a perfect day is, arrange it. I was thinking Disneyland, but whatever she wants, we’ll make it happen.”

I look around the room. “Whatever is leftover after gets divided between the rest of you. If any of you are in a position where you need further financial help, come speak with me. I can see about giving you overtime, or discuss a raise if you can convince me you’ve earned one.”

I might not always have been the most astute person when it comes to emotions, but I do know a raise will mean more if people feel as if they earned it, rather than just been given it.

“In the future I’ll do my best to be better. Thank you for your time.”

I stand up, intending to leave the room before I dissolve into an unprofessional ball of tears, but Shelley grabs my hand.

“Beth. Thank-you.”

Then Jason starts to clap. Soon my whole team is applauding me, and I want to brush it off, say it was nothing, but I meet Rachel’s eyes and the emotion in them tells me it wasn’t nothing. She gives me a wordless nod of gratitude, and it’s worth more than any amount of money I could ever receive.