Happy Path

End Script

"So," I beseeched Steven, "this basically means that Carter doesn't have a contract after today. What can I do to ensure he doesn't lose all his access and can come into work tomorrow to fire up his new contract?"

Steven considered my question. "Well, he won't be alone. This whole process is going to be a mess and I'm sure a bunch of people will be locked out tomorrow."

"Is there anyone I can contact to try and sidestep the issue?"

"I'll give you a couple of names and the best you can do is email them, explain the situation and hope they can help. Give Steven my number and I can always sign him in tomorrow if there's a problem."

"Thanks, but Charles can do that if necessary." I looked at the names Steven was scrolling through in Outlook. A few more unpronounceables for the road! "Even if he's in the building, he's dead in the water without computer access."

"There's always the possibility that he'll be fine," Steven said and shrugged. "Different groups deal with the contract end dates and access." Our best hope was a flawed system. I fought the urge to just let it go since it ultimately wouldn't be my problem.

"Okay. I'll send the messages and hope for the best. Uh, can you send me those names? In an email?"

"Sure."

"I'd offer you some Halloween candy, but I took the bag I had to the lab. I needed to get it off my desk," I said sheepishly. If he'd had x-ray vision, Jeremy would have seen the glut of Milk Duds, Almond Joy bars and Kaju Barfi in my stomach. I was a little worried about the mix since "barfi" was a good description of how I was starting to feel.

"That's okay. We had a party in our department and I had my fill of candy. I wore my unicorn onesie, too."

"Your what? I'm very disappointed that I didn't get to see that!"

"It was so hot, I didn't have it on long."

"Just long enough to make an impression, right?"

Steven laughed. "I had it for Burning Man. There was a onesie night."

"I remember my sister going to a onesie party in Portland over the summer. I didn't know they were such a popular thing."

"Maybe just with a certain set?" he offered.

I thought about this. What did Burning Man and Lindsay Donovan have in common? "Yep. You're probably right. So, any more trips planned?" As Steven talked about how he'd like to do some more camping and traveling, I mentioned having worked on cruise ships. Steven's face lit up.

"You worked on cruise ships? I'd love to talk to you more about that. My partner is interested in working on cruise ships. She's a teacher. Whenever she teaches somewhere interesting, I tag along and get to see something new."

"It's been some time since I was out on ships, but I still have some connections. I'd be happy to pass along any information I can. I'll give you my email address." I tore a piece of scrap paper off one of my soon-to-be-recycled to do lists.

"That's great. Thanks a lot. I'll definitely be in touch." Steven stood up and returned the chair he'd dragged into my area. "I'd better get back to my desk and finish some work before heading home." We smiled at each other. Once again, I thought it was too bad I hadn't taken the time to get to know my co-workers sooner. "Can I give you a hug?" he asked. As I embraced my almost ex-colleague, a line from one of my favorite movies jumped into my head: ...and there was real affection in that kiss. The line was from Shirley Valentine and the lead character thinks this as she's hugging her former prep school classmate who has become a middle-aged high-class hooker. Different circumstances, same sentiment. Steven gave a little wave as he walked away.

By then it was after 4:30. I tried Lync to see if Carter was still in the office, but he'd left for the day. I'd have to send emails to him, Charles and the contacts Steven had given me in the hope that I hadn't royally screwed up the passing of the torch.

I'd already sent a batch of farewell emails to my team and to Richard earlier in the day. The other more formal handover emails introducing Carter to my work contacts had been sent out the week before. I'd even brought in a bag of Halloween candy and a card for Charles that morning. I told him the candy was to replace the box of Girl Guide cookies in his desk drawer that he was working his way through. He asked me not to tell his wife about his sugar habit. Charles had left just after lunch to attend to Lark, who was home sick.

So that was it. My team was mostly gone from the office and my job-related duties were wrapped up. I spent the next 90 minutes refreshing my resume and packing up my kettle and the rest of my personal items. It was 6:30 when I left the building for the last time.

Walking to the front entrance, I passed the cafeteria where we'd had team meetings; I passed the Tim Horton's, where I'd stood in line so many times; I passed the call centre and the meeting rooms and the break area; I passed the lounge chairs where I'd heard about my grandmother's last moments on Earth. I approached the security desk, where I handed over my ID badge.

"Last day?" asked the security guard.

"Last day," I confirmed with a resolute smile. I pushed through the double doors and stepped into the fading evening light. There was no raising my hand in triumph or skipping away from 2201. Instead, I suddenly felt the weight of the last year descend on me. I turned and looked back at the building. This is what you want, I reminded myself. This is what you need to do to move on.

As I waited for the bus, my mind somersaulted through a year at The Bank. I'd learned a new language and new customs in a totally foreign place. Suddenly, my experience came into focus. I'd just spent a year abroad! It was really hard, but I did it! I didn't give up, even though I wanted to every single day for the first month. I stuck it out and I learned how to communicate with the locals. I learned how to live in a new place and I adapted to my surroundings. There were times I even thrived. Whatever I did next, I had this year to draw on and hold up as part of my background. I was actually really proud of myself.

The 34C bus drove me away from FinTechlandia and toward something more familiar. Wherever I landed next, I had the confidence that I would succeed. If I could spend a year so far outside my comfort zone, I knew I could walk into any environment and make it work.

If anyone was watching me, they probably thought I was reaching for the grab bar to steady myself as the bus swayed along. Truth is, I was raising my fist in the air.

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