Everything in Between

Chapter 8

Present Day

The early rays of sunlight cut through the entryway to my office as I headed toward my desk. This is my first day back at work in New York at Friar McKinley Capital Investments. While mom was palliative during the past year, I worked remotely in Ann Arbor. I've been with the company for years, even as a summer intern. Thankfully, they were supportive and accommodating during my mom's terminal diagnosis. I was able to rent a condo through the company and work and live close to the hospital. Even though I spent every free moment I had with my mom, I knew I needed my own space instead of staying at hers. The condo also provided me with an escape when things were hard, especially for my mental health during such a difficult time. The last thing I wanted was be alone in mom's home to feel the constant weight of absence.

I sit down on my chair and turn on my computer; even after a year working remotely, this feels familiar and comforting. I'm glad to be back.

My co-worker Nadia is in my doorway when I look up, and she's smiling, holding a bouquet of lilies as she approaches my desk.

"Annie," she says, "We missed you here."

I laugh as I stand to greet her with a hug. "Nadia, I'm so happy to see you."

"It's so good to have my work-wife back," she says.

"It's so nice to see your face in person and not over a Zoom call."

Nadia and I started full-time at Friar McKinley Capital Investments around the same time after we graduated from grad school. She's my best work friend and confidant. She's brilliant and currently heads the Investment Stock Portfolios of some of the largest corporations in the world. She's almost six feet tall, with long jet-black hair and big green eyes. She's the definition of brains and beauty.

She hands me the vase of lilies. "Just a little welcome back, my condolences, and thank you for being a friend bouquet to brighten your day."

"Thank you," I say with a smile, placing them down on my desktop. "They are beautiful."

"You're welcome," she says, adding quickly. "I'm sorry I wasn't physically there for you when your mom passed. And sending flowers and food and a card to Ann Arbor isn't the same as being there, and I'm sorry I couldn't make it work." She winces a little as if the admission is unsettling to her.

I feel like I'm punched in the stomach anytime I think about that day of her funeral for many reasons, and one of them still being the uncertainty of whether Zach was there. And it hasn't gotten any better. But I don't want Nadia to feel guilty for not being able to fly to Michigan. We are very close and good friends, but I never expected her to travel all that distance. Especially when our jobs are very demanding, and she barely knew my mom.

"You were there for me in many other ways," I told her. "So, thank you."

She watches me before she sighs and glances back to the empty doorway to double-check no one else is around. She motions to sit down, and I slide onto my office chair. Nadia takes a seat in one of the chairs on the other side of my desk.

"Are you doing a little better now since the last time we talked?" she asks.

Over the past year, Nadia has checked in with me weekly. We'd have regular Zoom wine dates while I was away.

"I am," I tell her -realizing – maybe for the first time – how true it is. "It's still going to take time, but I am doing much better. Some days are good, some are bad. Grief is complicated."

"You know I'm always here for you." Her easy smile returns, and I am overly thankful to have Nadia as my friend. "I'm so glad you're back. I can't stand listening to Karen's presentations anymore without having you there to roll your eyes at me from across the boardroom table."