The Hours We Have

chapter forty-nine

I breezed down the street on my skateboard. 

I was free with the wind in my hair and I lifted my hands to grasp for the golden sun. I found myself smiling as the wind softly caressed my outstretched fingers and I let the memory sear itself across my heart. I would always love skateboarding, the sense of freedom it gave me, and the rhythmic sound of the wheels crossing concrete grooves almost matched my wild heartbeat. 

It was a beautiful day, regardless of what it may hold. People scurried out of my path, or I swerved around them, but I didn't find myself wondering about them anymore. I didn't wonder about their lives or their loved ones, and perhaps it was because I wasn't hurting as much anymore. 

I wasn't wishing for a different life. 

I had my own life. 

When my workplace came into view, I finally slowed. It would be the last time I came here and my previously light-hearted mood evaporated in a breath. A wave of melancholy gently swept over me. These last moments could only lead to new ones, right?

I stepped off my board, and with the heel of my foot, I kicked it up into my left hand. It felt strange walking through the doors of a place I knew I was leaving, a place I had worked in almost every day. Not to mention my coworkers, they had become a part of my life, in their own way, and now I was taking my life elsewhere. 

Why was my overthinking making this worse?

I took a deep breath and I could smell fresh brewing coffee amidst the scent of various breakfast foods. It was almost heavenly and I committed it to memory because it would always remind me of this place in time. This job that had helped carry me after my parents. 

Every place has a memory entangled with its existence. 

I saw Sandy bustling around tables, doing her best to keep up with the morning rush. She didn't notice me right away, and I took the opportunity to slip into the back. First, I needed to talk with Ally, my manager. I approached her office and knocked.

"Come in," She called out. 

I took a deep breath before I opened the door and stepped inside, "Hi, am I disturbing something?" 

My manager looked up at me, and a smile touched her eyes but her lips remained pressed. I knew her well enough to know she was stressed and I hated to bother her. "Not at all," She didn't sound impatient, "Have a seat, its good to see you again." 

I felt slightly ashamed, I hadn't been to work in a week or better now. I hesitantly sat down in the chair across from her desk. It was strewn with papers, applications I assumed, and I noticed a list of phone numbers. She must have been making calls. 

Before I could say anything, she spoke again, "What brings you in?" 

I glanced down, fidgeting with my fingers, "Well, I've.. had some unexpected things come up. One that you know about but there's something else--" I paused, unsure of how to continue, and then I said, "I know its respectful to give a two weeks notice but I... I'm not sure how to do this." 

She simply pulled out a drawer of her desk, and when she looked at me, she was smiling with a paper in her hand. "It's alright, Jordyn. We knew you would be moving on soon enough," She said and handed me the paper, "This is your last paycheck from us, you deserve it. Thank you for all your hard work, and I wish you all the best." 

I was flabbergasted. I had never quit a job before. I didn't know what to expect. I hadn't even known how to do it, aside from a customary two weeks notice, which I didn't have the time to give because I was moving away.