Monday, thanks to Monica’s supposedly almost finished project—which naturally hadn’t been remotely close to complete—Jane got a tongue-lashing from Mr. Kaufmann for missing the deadline for the car wash ad. Monica got a raise for the fantastic job she did on the yogurt coupon then disappeared for the rest of the day. It plain didn’t pay to be nice.
Giving herself a mental ass-kicking for believing Monica would keep her word and give her credit, Jane left work that day angry and frustrated. She deserved that raise! The yogurt coupon that her boss raved about was her work. But there was no way to tell Mr. Kaufmann that. He knew only one thing—she was late with the car wash layout and the ad would have to run in next week’s Sunday edition of the newspaper. The owner of the car wash, a long-term client, was furious and about ready to find another agency for their future advertising. With so much at stake, a petty argument between employees was meaningless to him, the last thing he wanted to hear about.
So, Jane told herself, she’d learned her lesson the hard way. She wouldn’t be stupid next time—and she was sure there would be a next time. Monica’s tears could fill the whole office, the whole building for that matter. She wouldn’t budge. Monica could take care of her own problems. Jane had enough of her own, thank you. That night, she sat in her pajamas—an ancient pair of sweats and oversized T-shirt—on her tiny balcony with a pint of her favorite Ben and Jerry’s ice cream and watched what few stars she could see, the ones too brilliant to be faded out by the bright city lights.
As she filled her mouth with creamy, calorie-laden sin, she again wondered what it would be like to walk in Monica’s three-inch stiletto heels. How would it feel to have men practically falling at her feet? Doors opening, people crawling over themselves to do her every bidding, money wired from Daddy whenever she wanted? Monica Starke was as close to a big New York socialite as Metro Detroit had.
She was something Jane would never be, wasn’t even sure she’d ever want to be—although a few of the perks would be nice, like Daddy’s bottomless bank account.
As Jane dug into the bottom of the container for the last bite of ice cream, she caught a bright flash in the night sky from the corner of her eye. She looked up. Maybe an airplane landing at the little airport down the street, or a traffic helicopter? Did radio stations have traffic helicopters patrolling after nine on a Monday night? It soared in a broad arc from left to right. And then several more followed. A meteor shower. Cool.
She hadn’t heard anything about a meteor shower on the news but that had to be it. Enthralled, the ice cream all but forgotten, she watched more brilliant flashes blaze across the sky. It was a regular heavenly fireworks bonanza. Gorgeous. And as she watched, that kid’s rhyme about stars and wishes echoed through her mind. She’d never wished on a falling star before. Who knew, maybe they were magic.
Okay, so that sounded pretty dumb, but today had been a rough day. She deserved a little silly fantasizing. It couldn’t hurt anything.
“Star light, star bright. First star I see tonight. I wish I may, I wish I might…have the wish I wish tonight.” She focused on one particularly bright star then closed her eyes and thought—assuming of course it would never come true—I wish I was Monica. Before she opened her eyes, she added, for a little while. Not forever. Content with her wish, she nodded and opened her eyes.
The meteor shower seemed to have stopped, in fact it looked like there had never been any unusual activity at all. The sky was its usual semi-dark blue with a band of orange hanging low to the west. A handful of faded stars peeked from behind a thin cover of wispy clouds.
Sleepy, she went inside, tossed the ice cream container into the trash and settled into bed. Tomorrow would be another day Barring any unforeseen disasters, it was bound to be better than today.
