Second Class Citizen

Chapter 5

Staring out the diner window I held my coffee in my hands, hoping the heat would warm my heart. It was overcast again. The gray clouds seemed to drain the color of the world around it. Such was the normal weather for Seattle. In some way it comforted me. As if the clouds were weeping with me. In the midst of my despair the world was grieving with me. 

Six months had gone by since my departure. David and Jane called to check in on me. David called to find out if I was okay, settling in well. Jane was more persistent. I just told her that I needed a change. She knew something was wrong but couldn't force it out.  I wasn't sure what Lev had told them. It was clear they knew we had a fight. It could have been seen from the restaurant window but they didn't know what was said. 

However, the call I most expected never came. Lev was silent. Upon reflection I wondered if he knew what the fight was about. His silence made me wonder. It also made me realize that he didn't want to fight for our friendship or for me.

There was one question that I asked myself several times over the course of the next few months.

Did I make the right decision to leave?

When I left I packed up and removed myself from my life I had known. I didn't have a goal in mind. I didn't think about him coming after me or aiming to find myself. I just left.

No, I fled.

Like, a wounded animal. Perhaps that was why I lacked a plan or course. I was wounded. Severely so, and needed to recover before I could think clearly.

Should I have stayed or tried harder? Maybe.

 What was the point of me being away?

 Did it change Lev's behavior? No. 

Was it changing me for the better? I was uncertain.

 The desire for surety seemed never-ending. I wanted to know if my being here was the right choice. I knew that choices lead us to our purpose. Circumstances affected my path but this move showed me that I had the power to shift the course of my life. I just wondered if I had shifted it for the best. Unfortunately, my questions had no real answer. 

I wished my parents were alive. 

The older I became, the more I needed their clarity. I wiped a tear that escaped out of my eye. They died in a car wreck when I was fourteen. I became legally emancipated. I refused to enter foster care. I had no extended family. I was alone.  It was bad but Lev and Arabella made it okay. 

Sighing, I paid for my coffee and left for work. The doubt I carried for my life had made the world seem unstable. My only recourse was work. It was the only logical thing that I could grasp onto.

My efforts prove well. Within four months I was promoted from a general staff paralegal to the personal assistant of Mr Clark Welwore. It was a tremendous achievement. I was the youngest in the firm of secretaries. I knew some were not pleased with my new post but their qualms were silence by my driven focus.

Arriving before most I settled in for the day. Mr Welwore's office was on the forty-fifth floor. A corner office surrounded by pristine glass, his office demonstrated his impressive stature.  My desk was situated outside. I was no fool. I was on the outer spectrum of his grandeur.

By the time Mr Welwore arrived, I had been hard at work for the past hour. His appointments with cases were prepared, call sheets waiting and coffee on his desk. At 7:00 on the dot he footsteps could be heard down the hall. It sounded as firm as the rhythmic beat of an african drum. 

He walked in, firm posture and broad shoulders sucking the air out of the room. He was an intimidating lawyer who was the youngest to make partner.  However his greatest quality was his complete lack of interest in the personal matters of staff. The only thing that matter to Mr Welwore was the adept quality of the work that was done.