Unforgettable Mistakes - Now Published

Chapter 2

Amy

I grab my keys off the end table in my apartment, which is really only a studio apartment above my parents' garage, not including the kitchen I have to share with them. I keep a mini-fridge in here, so I don't have to go into the house for every little thing, but it still sucks, knowing this time I don't have my college apartment with Bree to go back to, now that we graduated from the University of Southern Maine. Plus, my mom and dad gave me time to find a job up there they thought was the right fit and that didn't work out too well for me, so now I'm back home, living in a semi-private space on my parents' property.

It appears very similar to what my room looked like up in Portland. I have my white four-poster bed, white night stand on each side, and my white dresser up against the wall with a large mirror overhead. In the corner to the right of the dresser, I have a full-length mirror and the door is to the left of the dresser, stepping out onto stairs on the side of the garage. On the wall opposite the dresser there's a pale pink curtain with long-stemmed darker pink flowers decorating the front, where my dad had shelves, hooks and a bar installed to use as my closet. I have a fluffy pink rug on the floor on each side of the bed, matching the accents of my white, pale blue and raspberry pink comforter. Then at the opposite end of the room from my bed, I have a pale tan couch with throw pillows in sage green with a cream pattern and chocolate brown with the same cream pattern. Next to the couch, I put a small end table and then a yellow armchair with a white daisy pattern next to that, making the seating an L-shape. In front of the couch, but against the wall sits a small black entertainment center with a 36" flat screen TV. Then to the right of it I have the mini fridge and to the left, a door to my small bathroom. I don't have anything on the walls yet, but I'm just happy to have everything unpacked.

I glance down at my outfit one more time. I have a white jumper on with a deep V in the front and small, silver buttons down to my waist. I pulled a silvery-grey blazer on over the top, giving it a professional touch. I smile to myself, satisfied and pull out my phone to snap a quick selfie. I grin and press the camera button a couple times before I skim through the pictures. Happy with the results, I pick one to post on all my social media platforms. Then I add a quick message, "Off to my first interview. #Kissforluck #Interviewinstyle #Jobsearch." I sling my matching white purse with a silver buckle over my shoulder before I turn towards the door. My silver heels click on the wide plank wood floors as I walk outside. I pull the door closed behind me and cautiously descend the stairs. I walk up to my Black BMW 3 Series that my dad bought me as a graduation present and slip in behind the wheel, onto black leather seats.

My cell phone rings just as I start the car. I pick up my phone and smile as my dad's face lights up the screen. I get my thick, blonde hair and blue eyes from my dad. He's a big man and used it to his advantage in sports when he was younger. He played football all through high school and college and is still able to use his connections to drum up business. He's in medical equipment sales and provides clinics, hospitals, doctors' offices and specialty care centers with a variety of things, such as pacemakers and respirators. My mom on the other hand gave me her height, without her lean frame. I guess I get my curves from dad's side of the family. I'm also really good at faking it because of her, so I can't say she never gave me anything.

"Hi, Dad," I answer, cheerfully.

"Hi, Sweetheart. Are you ready for your interview?" he inquires. He got me in for an interview today with one of his friend's marketing companies.

"Yes, I'm ready, Dad," I promise. "I was just about to pull out of the driveway when you called," I inform him.

He chuckles softly. "That's great, Amy. Drive safe and good luck," he encourages me.

"Thanks," I murmur. "I love you!"

"Love you, too," he replies, before he disconnects the call.

I start my car and pull out of the driveway and turn towards Boston. We don't live too far from the city and I quickly pull into a parking garage and find a spot on the roof. I grab my phone and notice I missed a text while driving. I unlock my screen and find a message from my mom, making me grimace. "Good luck at your interview. Don't mess it up! These people are important to your father. He really stuck his neck out for you," she reminds me.