Let's go.

Part 27: Seattle

Winter, 1994

"Hey, Wrenna?"

Mariam is standing in the doorway to the meeting room I'm sitting in. I look up from the paperwork in front of me and she is smiling thoughtfully.

When I returned to San Francisco after breaking it off with Layne last year, I felt lost. I didn't have a job, didn't have a path, and felt broken from the realization that the love I needed could only be provided by two men because neither would completely choose me over their desires.

And honestly, maybe it was for the best. Layne feared that he didn't fit my background and Jerry, well, his problem was that he didn't care enough to fear anything.

But I realized that this was an opportunity to start over, and Mariam, the executive director of the community legal center I had clerked with in law school, welcomed me with open arms. She joked that she could offer me a job because Layne had matched the firm's donation last year.

Even after having broken up with him--he's everywhere. His art is still in my home, his music is on the radio, and he still donates every month to our programs. I can't escape him.

"Yeah, Mariam?" I ask and feel myself smiling back at her.

Mariam made me the Assistant Director last month and she has been mostly focusing on our fundraising and staff trainings, then spending her free time with her grandchildren.

"Claire received a grant to expand their eviction defense services in Seattle," she says and settles in a chair across from me.

Claire and I went to law school together and she is the head of Seattle Legal Aid. We were friends in law school and have stayed close since graduation.

"That's fantastic, I talked to her last week and she didn't mention anything. When did they get it?" I ask.

"Monday, and I just got off the phone with her. She wants you to call her," She adds and a mischievous grin spreads across her features.

"Mariam, what are you doing?" I ask with a sigh.

Ever since I have started here she has been nagging me to call Layne. But I have started seeing someone else recently and I am trying my best to move on.

"You can't give up on our Seattle donor--I remember the way he looked at you at the Gala. You two have something special," She says seriously then pushes away from the table.

I sigh and shake my head, "some things are better left alone."

She nods. "Call Claire today," she adds as she leaves the room.

I know what this call will be. Claire needs someone to help her develop the eviction program and I was the head of ours before my promotion. It makes sense for me to go up there and help them get their program underway, but I don't want to be in the same city as Layne and Jerry again.

I place my glasses on my stack of papers and take a deep breath before punching Claire's number into the phone next to me.

"Claire Spenser," she answers curtly.

"Claire, it's Wrenna," I say with a chuckle and I feel her relaxing through the receiver.

"Wrenna," she says with a sigh, "I thought you were someone else who has been badgering me."

"Well, with that tone I'm sure they are going to run for the hills," I reply.

She laughs and I can picture her shaking her wild red curls in exasperation at whomever has been pestering her. Claire is always irritated, it's part of her charm. She doesn't suffer fools and her quick Irish temper keeps many at bay.