The Ground Below

Chapter Two

 In the car Chandler made sure to ask me what all ‘that’ was about. Of course I told him. “They wanted to give me a job.”

“Wow, really? Doing what?” He seemed genuinely excited.

“Giving their daughter lessons,” I quickly answer.

Abby, always the perky one, turned around in her seat, and smiled. “That’s amazing, Parker. You should totally take it.”

“It is what I’ve always wanted to do, but there is just one thing.”

As I’m telling them about the offer, I think about my Grammy and how I’ll be going home to our apartment, the apartment that is only occupied by me now.

“And that would be?” Chandler urges me on.

I’m scared of their responses if I tell them it’s in South Carolina. It’s not like I’ve even considered it, and it’s not something I’d enjoy discussing. I look around the car, and both are turned in their seats staring at me.

“It’s in South Carolina.”

Abby forms an “O” with her mouth, and Chandler sighs.

“It’s not like I’m even considering—” I add but, Chandler cuts me off.

“I think it’d be good for you, Park.” What?

Abby and I both send him a questioning look. He continues, “It’ll get you away from that lonely apartment, and it’ll be what you always wanted to do. Who cares if you have to pick up, and move?”

Um, I do. But, I don’t tell him that. He sighs again, “Look, Parker, I know it’s scary to think about moving, and leaving this place, but maybe different air will do you some good. At least think about it.”

What about him? What about my apartment, and Grammy? All the memories we made in that two bedroom apartment?

My hesitancy must show across my face, because Chandler surges on with his “Get Parker to leave” speech.

“If you’re worried about us, don’t be. You can visit or we can visit you. And you need out of that apartment, Parker.” What is he? A mind reader? “Grammy wouldn’t want you crying your life away in that apartment. She’d probably tell you to sell it, and go on with your life. She might be dead, but she’d want you to live.”

He is right. I can’t stay in that apartment forever, but wouldn’t a job in New York be more practical. “I’ll think about it,” I tell them, and I will.

At that he smiles, and turns to start the car. I grab hold of the handle, as my nerves bundle. Chandler looks in the mirror, and sees me shaking. “Just breathe, baby girl. We’ll be to the restaurant in minutes.”

“Can’t we just walk?” He shakes his head. Of course not. Years of therapy, and I’m still not over my fear of cars. It’s not exactly like I make a habit of getting into them, so I really haven’t had much of a chance to get over my fear. I live in New York. I can walk to and from where I need to go. In South Carolina, that might be different. Another thing I should take into consideration while I think over the offer.