Chapter 20: March 24, 1987

On the following Tuesday, I hold my portfolio tightly against my torso as I thank the cab driver and enter the enormous building. As I scan the employee directory and locate the stairs, I grip the binder to stop my hands from shaking.

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Smile.

Despite wearing my best pantsuit, I know I’m out of my depth when I see the stunning, creative outfits around me.

After ascending three flights of oak stairs, I arrive at the top floor, and a woman greets me from a desk in the corridor. "Good afternoon. Can I help you?"

"I'm Ra'Shelle Dawson. I'm sorry. I know I'm a bit early."

The woman smiles. "He'll like that." She picks up the phone and presses a button. "Ms. Dawson?" She nods. "Go on in."

A man in his late thirties greets me with a wide smile and an extended hand. I study him as I shake his hand: soft olive skin, light brown eyes, umber hair combed to the side. Slightly taller than me, he wears a navy jacket and tie, and I feel even more underdressed.

"Tom Ledger."

"Ra'Shelle Dawson." I smile. "I brought some pieces from my portfolio if you want to see them."

He grins. "Are they better than what I already saw?"

I hand him the binder. "Some of them."

He gestures toward a round, walnut table in the corner of the room and I follow him. He slowly peruses the pieces in the binder. "What's your favorite medium?"

"It's still graphite pencils. I like pastels, charcoal, and colored pencils, but I love the perfect lines you create with a graphite pencil; no distraction, nowhere to hide. You see the sketch for what it is."

He nods. "Good point."

He stops at one page and runs his fingers over the sheet protector. "I saw the picture you drew of the girl standing in the mirror, but this is a league ahead."

In the sketch, a young woman wears a dress resembling my wedding dress and stands in front of three mirrors. The model and dress are shown from every angle.

Tom walks to his desk and takes a wooden ruler from a mug filled mostly with colored pencils. "I bet if I folded this page in half…" he places the ruler against the center of the page protector. “…and if I folded it into thirds…" He places the ruler on each of the side mirrors. "Yeah… perfect symmetry. These mirrors are exactly the same size and the proportions are equal." He shakes his head and looks at me. "How long did it take you to draw this?"

I bite my lip, unused to my work receiving this kind of attention. "Honestly, several hours over four days." I meet his gaze. "I've completed faster drawings. I don't want you to think I'm slow or can't meet a deadline, but this one… It was several drafts. The woman in the dress wasn't that difficult, but those mirrors were tough, even with a ruler."

"When did you draw it?"

"December. It was my final piece for my drawing class last semester."

"Why don't you draw more landscapes, more traditional pieces?"

I fidget, counting seconds on my fingertips. "Well, obviously there are items that I didn't include in this sample. I've drawn lakes, animals, fruit, all types of things, but I like the challenge of drawing faces. "I like…" I flip forward a few pages, and he stands back to give me plenty of space. “…this one. It's similar to the bridal sketch that Professor Truman showed you, but every person shows a different expression, portraying a different emotion, and I tried to match the clothes to that expression. The woman in complete glee with an up-do is wearing a dress. The angry guy is wearing torn jeans. The smug girl with the mischievous smile is wearing parachute pants.

"This was for an assignment about emotions, and it gave me a lot of practice at different types of facial expressions and clothing choices, different lines and shading options. This one took a little time too, but nothing like the one with the triple mirror. This one was just a lot of fun."

"It's brilliant."

There’s a jolt in my nervous system. "Oh, uh, thank you."

He returns to his desk and takes a file folder from a drawer before returning to the table. I close the binder and move it to the side.

"We've decided on three new designs for the fall line." He takes six sheets from the folder and spreads them across the table. "Here are the final six sketches with attached fabric samples. I don't want you to guess which ones we chose; I want you to tell me which three you like the most." His kind eyes sparkle. "No pressure."

He steps back as I carefully inspect the pieces and rub the fabric samples.

I spend ten minutes feeling the fabrics, commenting on the sketches, and giving detailed explanations as to why I believe a piece would or wouldn’t work. Ultimately, I choose a cotton, versatile piece, a polyester-spandex blend versatile set, and a polyester-blend dress with a flowing tail.

Finally, I step back. "How'd I do?"

He grins. "Does it matter? Those were wonderfully elaborate explanations.” He picks up the sketches and returns them to the folder. "You're majoring in art?"

"Yes, sir."

"Do you have a minor?"

I simper. "Business. I didn't really mean for it to become a focus, but my advisor told me that if I keep going, and take a couple of accounting classes, I could have a second major. We’ll see."

"Any language skills?"

"I speak nearly-fluent Italian."

He raises his eyebrows. "Really?"

"Three years in high school, not quite two years so far in college."

"Hoping to move to Rome or Venice?"

"No. I just thought Italian was more interesting than some of the other languages offered at my high school. Now, I actually like it."

"It's too bad you're only a sophomore. Otherwise, we'd be talking about a real job."

I chuckle. "Thank you, I guess."

He gestures for me to sit in the round chairs facing his desk. He returns the folder to the drawer, then sits in the chair facing me, rather than behind the desk. My pulse quickens, but I steady myself with a deep breath.

"Here's how it works.” Over the next fifteen minutes, he carefully explains the scheduling options, necessary paperwork, and the expectations of both the interns and the staff. His vision, which he’s actually implemented, is simultaneously methodical and flexible; he’s describing my dream job, even if I didn’t know it until now.

"Do you have any questions?"

"No, sir."

"Great. I don't want your answer today; just think about it. Consider the logistics, talk it over with your advisor and whomever else. Okay?"

I nod.

"Could you come back, or at least call me, next…" he sits up and glances at a calendar on his desk. "Friday?"

"Yes, sir."

He smiles and stands, extending his hand. "It was very nice meeting you, Ra'Shelle. I hope we'll work together for many years."

I smile and shake his hand. "It was a pleasure to meet you as well. We'll talk soon."

He opens the door and shows me out.

The woman casually waves. "Have a great day."

***

The bus back to the college is late, but I don’t care, and by the time I arrive at the dorm, I’m practically giddy.

I unlock the door to an empty suite, toss my portfolio on the desk, and fling myself onto the couch, still ecstatic with the rush of contributing to a conversation about art with an actual professional.

Less than a minute later, I hear a soft knock at the door.

"Did you forget your keys?" I call.

But when I open the door, I find Shannon nearly in tears. "Hey, Ra'Shelle. Sorry to interrupt. Is Colin home?"

I shake my head. "Probably at the library."

"Can we talk?"

I step aside for her to come in. "What's going on?"

She walks in and immediately turns to face me. "I need to ask an enormous favor."

I gesture toward the couch. "Want anything to drink? Water? Tea?"

"No, thanks."

I sit on the opposite end of the couch. "What's up, Shannon?"

She folds her hands in her lap. "I'm pregnant."

"Congratulations?" I cock my head. "Or not?"

Shannon rubs her face. "It was an accident. We came home late from a party and… well, you know how it is."

Not really, I think. "Sure."

"Anyway, we couldn't decide what to do. You know? I mean, we love each other. We've stayed together for three years… Although I'm realizing that teenage years are different from adult years." She shakes her head. "Anyway, we want to start a family someday but not now. We're barely eighteen, and we both want to finish college."

"You can do both, Shannon. Doesn't the school have a daycare to help the ECE students? And there are programs, right? WIC and stuff?"

"I looked at all of that,” she says. “The daycare has spots available in the fall, but it's not free, and WIC would help pay for formula and food, but not cribs or clothes or… all the other things you need to care for a baby… We're already taking out thousands of dollars in student loans just to pay for school. It's not the right time."

I glance at Shannon's stomach. "How far along are you?"

"The baby is due just before school starts back. August fourteenth."

I raise my eyebrows. "Wow."

Shannon looks at her hands and clears her throat. "You and Colin seem to be a great couple."

"Well, it’s not all rainbows," I tell her with a small chuckle. "We’ve had a few minor quarrels, and we had to learn to give one another space, but, yeah, I'd say we're pretty stable. And we love each other. A lot."

Shannon inhales deeply, then blurts, "I want you and Colin to adopt the baby."

She clears her throat and looks up. "I didn't mean for it to come out like that. How would you feel about you and Colin adopting the baby?"

I open my mouth, then close it and lean against the armrest. "I–" I search for words. "I don't know. I mean, I'm honored that you'd ask but… I don't know."

"I understand. I don't need an answer today. Talk it over with Colin."

She reaches out her hand, then pulls it away. "I'll help in any way that I can. I can be like… the aunt, I guess," she sighs, "but I can't raise a baby by myself, and Derek doesn’t want to be a father anytime soon."

I take a deep breath and exhale slowly. "I won't tell you 'no' right now. Let me think about it and talk to Colin."

"I understand. We're… not telling our parents, but we have a friend whose dad is a lawyer, and he agreed to help us with the paperwork for a private adoption, so you won't be out any legal fees."

I bite my lip. "What's your 'Plan B'?"

Shannon shrugs. "Probably going through an agency. I kept waiting, thinking Derek would come around and… I can't keep it."

A key turns in the lock, and Shannon jumps, startled and wide-eyed.

"It's just Colin," I softly reassure her.

With his backpack over one shoulder, Colin opens the door singing, "You don’t have to be rich to be my girl. You don’t have to be cool to rule my world Ain’t no–." He glances at the couch. "Oh, hey, Shannon."

"Hey, Colin."

Colin tosses his backpack into the bedroom and returns. "Hey, babe."

"Hey yourself."

"Anyone want anything?"

Shannon stands up. "I was just leaving."

I accompany her to the door. "We'll talk soon, okay?"

She smiles slightly and nods. "Thanks, Ra'Shelle."

I close the door and fall back onto the couch. "You are not going to believe this."

Colin sits next to me. "Try me."

"Shannon and Derek are pregnant."

Colin rolls his eyes. "I can totally believe that."

"Oh, not that. Shannon wants us to adopt the baby."

Colin raises his eyebrows and points at himself. "Us? As in you and me?"

"Yeah. Derek doesn't want it, and, understandably, she doesn’t want to do it alone. It's us or an agency."

"Wow," Colin leans back. "Wait, hold on, how was the interview?"

"It was good. I can start the internship in August if I want it. Not sure about the pay, but it's at least minimum wage and only ten hours. I liked the CEO guy, and I'm thinking about taking it. What do you think?"

"I think it's great,” Colin says. “Only a couple of days a week, paid, and a job you'll enjoy? What's not to like?"

"That's basically what I’m thinking. I'll talk to my advisor next week and work out the details."

Colin turns his entire body to face me and rests his cheek against his fist. "So, this other thing…"

"Yeah," I say, leaning back against the armrest and resting my feet against his leg. "How crazy is that?"

"It's pretty crazy… Why am I not immediately against this?"

I playfully slap his knee. "Thank you! Right? I mean, we should tell her 'no'. The baby is due in August. Even if we receive WIC and help with daycare and stuff, it's still a lot, and we'd just be starting our junior year. This should be an easy 'no,' and yet… I just can't shake the feeling that we're supposed to say 'yes'. What's up with that?"

Colin places his hand on my leg. "I don't know. Everything you just said makes sense. This is terrible timing. I was thinking we would graduate, find jobs, save up some money, and then talk about having kids."

"Me too." I sigh. "I guess, maybe because I know we'll have to adopt in the future, this just seems like it's being handed to me. To us. She knows a lawyer, so there’s no expense like going through an agency. Shannon says she wants to stay involved. There are some advantages here."

"How long until we need to give her an answer?"

"We didn't decide on a date, but we should probably tell her pretty soon, so she can make other arrangements."

Thinking, Colin clicks his tongue multiple times. "Let's take time to research everything and run the numbers. We're both creative, but we're also both practical. It's one of the reasons we're good together. Let's try to keep emotion out of it for now."

I hold Colin's fingers. "Good idea."

He leans over to kiss me. "I love you, Ra’Shelle."

I grin and begin singing in falsetto, “I just want your extra time and your!”

Colin roars with laughter. “Okay. Okay.”

***

He’s sleeping soundly when I pull back the covers and slip out. Quietly closing the bedroom door, I shuffle to the couch and stare at the phone for over an hour.

In my head, multiple voices debate loudly. This is a terrible idea. But who better to give you advice? Literally anyone else. I don't like the way we left things. That isn't a good reason to reopen that particular wound. I have to try.

With shaking hands, I dial my childhood number. I close my eyes, holding the phone away from my ear.

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Listen.

–disconnected or is no longer in service. If you feel that you have reached this recording in error, please hang up and–

I slam the phone down. "Pay your fucking phone bill!"

I fall heavily against the back of the couch and rub my forehead. "What a waste of energy." I roll my eyes, annoyed with myself. "It's for the best. You would have regretted it immediately."

Suddenly feeling the adrenaline crash, I yawn and turn off the light. "Back to bed, Ra'Shelle. Just go with Colin's plan. It'll be fine."