Oh. My. God. I have barely made it past the guard station and it looks like I am driving into one of those Nicholas Sparks novels. A long palmetto tree lined drive with marsh on either side. I can see large houses and golf greens in the distance. A truly picturesque scene.
I have no idea how I got here. Okay, I know how I got here but not sure how it happened so fast. I've spent years in what feels like the twilight zone that is being an adult while living in your hometown. I was so stuck. I thought I made it out, I went to college, where I excelled, graduated and started an amazing job coordinating and leading tours in Charleston, South Carolina. I majored in history and I absolutely love talking about any part of history to anyone.
It was my dream job. Well, it was a dream until the pandemic. Two years in, the whole world shuts down. You know who are the most non-essential workers? Anyone who majored in the humanities. And especially those working in the tourism industry when traveling is practically illegal. I lost my job and could no longer afford to live in Charleston, so I had to do what I promised myself I would never do--move back home. You know what small towns offer history majors? Administrative assistant jobs. That's what I've been doing the past four years. Working at the front desk of my hometown's lawyers office. So here I am 28 years old, no real career, and driving into one of the nicest beach clubs in South Carolina. The Dubois Club. Situated south of Myrtle Beach and north of Charleston it is a 2,000 acre beach resort with over 1,000 homes including an 18 hole golf course, a state-of-the-art tennis center, three pools, miles of private beaches, and three restaurants. That is according to their website which I have pretty much memorized since accepting this job. And somehow they want me to be their new assistant events manager.
As I keep driving, I start to pass vacation homes--big ones. Some overlooking the marshes with long docks stretched out from the shore, others lining the long road with perfectly manicured yards. My family was never exactly in the poor house, but we also didn't live a lifestyle that included a vacation home.
For the past few years I have been helping my sister with events at her restaurant while also working at the lawyers office. I miss getting to talk about history but I found that I was good at managing events.
My sister, however, is the perfect one who only went to college a town over, married her high school sweetheart, opened a business, started popping out babies and is perfectly content to live and die in that god-forsaken town. Just what my parents want--especially my mother. Then there's me who went to college far away and took a job on the other side of the state only to end up right back where I started. I have always wanted more for myself than that place could offer me. Somehow I just got stuck there and didn't fight hard enough to get out. So, when a gentleman at one of the events I was hosting at the restaurant approached me with a potential job offer, I dropped everything, packed my shitty car and well, here I am.
I follow my GPS to the club house that is located in the middle of sprawling grounds. The clubhouse overlooks the greenest golf course I have ever seen. The building is insane. A two story pearly white building with tall white columns and a circular driveway. It's the kind of clubhouse you see in your favorite Netflix show, and I am fairly certain a few of them might have been filmed here.
I pull into a parking spot and open my phone to double check my email from my new boss, Linda. I have only met her in the virtual interview I had last week and I assumed she liked me since she hired me. I glance at my clock, 9:45 am on the dot. Yep, the email still says arrive at 10 am. But I am neurotic and HAVE to be everywhere early. Thinking about being late on my first day of work makes me want to puke.
I swipe open my phone to pass the time and notice a text from my mother. Great. She and my sister didn't exactly take the news well that I was up and leaving with a week's notice. My mom said,
YOU ARE READING
Where I Want to Be
RomanceLilla feels like a failed 28 year old. After graduating from college, she got her dream job and was living her best life in Charleston. Then the pandemic hit and she had to move back to her small hometown. She gets stuck there working a clerical job...
