The Trust

Chapter 16: Something Big

You know that feeling you get when you wake up in the morning and something good's about to happen, but you can't remember exactly what? Like on Christmas morning, in that woozy state between waking and sleep, you have a vague sense that it's going to be a special day, something big and good is waiting but you just have the feeling, not the details? I start to feel like that.

I've gone from being unable to get out of bed in the morning, to jumping up and flinging the curtains open to greet the day, like some singing cartoon princess. The songbirds in the morning don't flutter in to make my bed and clean up my room, but they are music to my ears and I can't wait to take a hot shower and have my coffee out on the deck before I head into work.

After months of gloom (and most likely low-grade depression), suddenly I'm a one-woman fountain of joy. Things that used to annoy me at the office slide away, like I'm encased in an invisible bubble of happiness. Every task is a pleasure; whatever dull and repetitive thing they want me to do is welcomed and completed briskly, with a smile. Because I know the day is coming, and soon, when I can walk out of this place forever with a jaunty salute and I'll never have to work a crap job for crap pay again. Freedom is coming.

This instils in me a quiet serenity, a tiny nugget of calm that soothes my normally-racing mind..

Everyone needs a job, even the wealthy, so I've decided to create my own. After Audrey is taken care of and I divorce Clive, I plan on sinking as much money as I can into the food bank. I want to expand the network of food distribution — provide a steady stream of nourishment for people in poverty around the province, organized right here in Grey Harbour.

I'll run it with Father Jake – he can handle operations; I'll deal with all the stuff he hates like fundraising and marketing. I want to do something good with this money, to help my town. I remember the bag of donated food handed to us on a frigid winter night and the hope that it brought our small, struggling family. I want to do that for others. When poor kids eat, and feel like someone out there cares about them, who knows how far they'll go?

"Hey, Darce?" Derek, one of the agents calls to me over his shoulder as he rushes by, piercing my daydream. I shake myself out of it.

"Yeah?"

"I've got a beast of a day. Could you be a doll and pick up my dry cleaning? And if you're passing by the post office, I've got some mail that needs to be sent." He winks. "You're a peach." He points at me with a finger gun as he opens the door.

"No." It's a gut reaction, and it's out of my mouth before I have time to think. So much for completing every task with a smile. That doesn't include running errands on my precious lunch hour (that isn't quite an hour) for someone who isn't even my boss.

"Excuse me?" I can hear the tone of incredulity in his voice. I'm the 'get-it-done' gal who says yes to every shitty job at work. This is not like me.

"I'm not going to the post office today. Or the dry cleaners. Even if I was, you should run your own errands." I turn back to my computer and start typing, heart thumping in my chest. I've never spoken to an agent that way, especially one that brings in millions each year. It feels terrifying. And good.

I brace myself for anger, or disappointment. His reaction is neither. I glance back at him and he looks unsure of himself for a second, then calls out cheerfully, "Have everything on my desk by 2 this afternoon ok? Thanks."

Ah, that's the plan. His tactic was to act like he didn't hear me. I notice all chatter and activity in the office has quieted and all eyes are on me. Suddenly, I'm in a showdown.

He's hovering by the door, waiting for me to stop this foolishness and reassure him that he's in charge and I'm just a lowly servant he can boss around, so he can get on with his busy day.