When in December (Home Haven #1)

Chapter 28

twenty-eight

. . .

Poppy

I knew all my affirmations. I knew how to say I was doing my best and pray to whatever great heavens I wanted to believe in that day to make it so. Because I wasn’t sure what else to do, and if it wasn’t sure what to do, I was positive I’d fall apart altogether if I didn’t have at least one truth in my life.

I knew what I had to do to keep moving. I’d learned the steps well to keep my heart beating and my lungs breathing and the rest of me from completely giving up once and for all.

But I’d never had to do it when it felt like someone had carved an entire hole out of my chest. Even though it was me who had done it.

I knew that I had basically done this to myself. I gave in. I thought that it would be okay and that I could handle a short holiday fling even though I should’ve known better. Now, I was forced to deal with the consequences.

I needed to keep going. I needed to keep doing what I knew I was meant to do.

When I walked into the office on Friday and saw the bright smile on Alison’s face, I knew exactly what was going to happen before my ears heard it.

I sat in Michelle’s small yet sophisticated office, which always used to set me at ease when I was on edge.

“I hope you all had a wonderful holiday, if you celebrated. I called you in here before the end of the year to give you some positive news,” Michelle said from where she sat across from us at her desk.

I took a deep breath. I thought there would be more lead-up about how both projects were a success and that she was proud of specific things within our work.

But Michelle didn’t sugarcoat things. I used to admire that about her.

“I am happy to congratulate Alison on receiving the promotion,” Michelle announced quietly as we sat in front of her in the same seats that we had sat in when she first put down the gauntlet over a month ago.

It’d felt like it was so much longer.

I schooled my face into a look of unhurt, though my aching heart sank deeper into my stomach. I turned toward Alison and plastered one of my best smiles on my face.

She didn’t see through it.

Neither did the formidable Michelle Maven.

No one ever did.

“Congratulations, Alison. I saw the work you did on your home. It was remarkable,” I said.

It wasn’t a lie. Alison’s project was amazing. It was classy and modern and had a hint of antique to work well with the original architecture of the building. It was exactly the kind of home that Home Haven readers would ooh and aah over.

Alison’s wide smile faded before she dipped her head in a small nod. “Thank you, Poppy.”

“Thank you for coming in to see me today,” Michelle said. “I won’t keep you longer than necessary, so please get out and enjoy the rest of your day. Your calendars should list upcoming projects. I hope you both are as excited as I am about what Home Haven has in store.”

Alison pushed back her seat and rose, thanking Michelle before heading toward the door leading back into the main office space. I did the same.

“Poppy, could you please remain for a second?” Michelle asked.

Alison caught my eye, holding the door open. She gave me another small smile before shutting the office door behind her.

Michelle cocked her head at me as I slowly lowered myself back into the chair I’d sat in a moment ago.

Smoothing out my pants, I took a deep breath. I was wearing the stretchy dress pants with the bows on them again. I’d worn them the first day that I started on the cabin. I remembered the way that Aaron’s eyes had caught on them in what looked like disgust, but I’d noticed that when we were in bed, it was almost like he was still remembering them on my legs, tracing his fingers over my skin in small twists and loops.

That moment that had brought us together.

Back together.

But that wasn’t meant to be. A lot of things weren’t right now.

Maybe it wasn’t the right time, or the universe had other things in store for me soon. Or maybe that was all bullshit. Because when it came down to it, all the affirmations were just words. What mattered was what you did with them afterward.

How do you make each positive phrase true?

“Poppy,” Michelle started, catching my attention, “I wanted to check in with you.”

“Of course.”

“I know the promotion was previously discussed with you before all this mess. In this case, Alison simply had what I was looking for, for the magazine, as a lot of our smaller projects and minor home DIYs were already included. We needed a big piece to fill the spread,” explained Michelle.

I nodded.

“It had nothing to do with the quality of your work,” she went on, making sure that I understood how she had come to the decision.

I did.

What I didn’t—what I held inside myself, knowing that it wasn’t polite or professional—however, finally broke free as I met her gaze, still held tightly on mine.

“Did I have a chance?” I asked.

“Excuse me?”

“Did I ever really have a chance?” I repeated.

But I felt like the answer was sitting right in front of me. For so long, I was always the woman who was walked all over and told to try better next time, and I believed it because I thought this was the way of the world. It was what it was. C’est la vie .

As long as it pleased everyone else and they liked me enough, I let it go.

But for some reason, I couldn’t right now. It was all too much, even as I bit the inside of my cheek.

“I’ve worked hard here,” I explained, standing up for myself. I’d never thought I could, but I did against Aaron. At least until the end. I was able to speak my mind, even if my voice shook and my eyes filled with water. “I put in extra hours. I take on the extra training. I devote myself to the work and the mission here. I’m not saying that Alison hasn’t. I’m not saying that seniority is the correct way to hand out promotions, but I have worked so hard, and I love what I do, and I wanted it so badly, and right now, I feel like I … what have I gotten for it?”

Michelle watched me carefully as I went on, not interrupting.

“Half of the senior design team don’t even know my name beyond the girl who color codes their calendars.” I whispered. “I’m not asking for a thank you or a job well done . I want proof that all the work I do without being asked, that’s praised, is worth it. I mean, did you know that I built those custom bookshelves in that cabin?”

“I didn’t know that.”

“I did. Not only that, but when we were behind schedule, I spent days and nights staining the original hardwood floors. I doubt half the other designers even know how to use a nail gun if push came to shove and they needed to make the vision happen themselves. But I did. I do. I don’t deserve this promotion. I earned it.”

But was my constant need for perfection and doing whatever I had to do, throwing health and family and love to the wayside if that’s what it took, worth it in the end?

My job, my work was what I always chose. It was why I still lived with my family, so close to the office, especially after Lincoln left me, because what else did I need to move for? It was why I’d made sure to keep myself under lockdown for so long, so I would be at full alertness at Home Haven while everyone else did whatever they wanted. Yet somehow, they still managed to be so many steps ahead of me.

I cut myself off, trying to catch my breath.

“Sometimes, in this job, you’re the only one who can fully know you did your absolute best,” said Michelle. “And that should be worth something.”

“What if it’s not enough?” I pressed my lips together.

“It will be,” Michelle said, sadness filling her tone. “For so many of us, even when we’re struggling, it has to be.”

I should’ve nodded. I should’ve been the one to thank her for the opportunity, like I always did before asking if there was anything else she or the other designers needed from me, which I would fulfill, no questions asked.

But I didn’t. And now, I was stuck here, under her studying gaze.

“I’m sorry,” I apologized. “I’m tired, as I mentioned, from the late nights and making sure that the cabin and the holiday were put together for the Hayes-Preston family.”

“You’ve had a very productive year. I hope we can move forward from here and continue this trend,” Michelle said. “This isn’t the end of something. It’s just the beginning.”

It was easy for her to say. No matter if Michelle had gone through trials or struggled to make Home Haven what it became after years, she didn’t understand where I was coming from.

She has no idea.

I could nearly hear Aaron’s stiff arrogance leaking through my thoughts, the same words he’d spit at me during the first two weeks of my time at the cabin.

“You have no idea what I’m going through, and to be honest, I don’t need you to pretend to care.”

Tears started to stream down my face.

Michelle reached across the desk, and I couldn’t even pull my hands away before she had them in her grasp. She held my hands tight, not caring that they were in fists.

“You’re going to do great things, Poppy. You can be afraid right now. But don’t let yourself stay like this—one foot out and one in. Take the energy you need. Dig yourself out and start again.”

“You said I had potential.”

“And you know when I say that, I mean it,” said Michelle, her tone switching from soft to serious. “Dive into this feeling. Dive in until you have no choice but to try and swim.”

I stared at her, wondering what she would do if someone spoke to her like this. If she would suddenly jump up and shout for joy after failing?

Again.

“Can you make it out of here this evening safely? Would you like me to call you a car?”

I shook my head.

“Go home, Poppy. You’ve done a lot of good work. Get some rest and come back ready to jump in one hundred percent like I know you want to. Good things come out of it. That I can promise. Because you do have talent. Right now, however, I think it’s your job to take some time for yourself and have a wonderful new year. Have a good rest of your day, and thank you for taking this time to talk so vulnerably with me.”

I swallowed, standing up. “Thank you.”

I made my way back to my desk, and the cubicle I shared with Hannah felt tinier than I remembered. I sat down before I could turn off the monitor and pull my tablet into my bag like I should’ve, doing what was expected of me. But I knew what would happen if I did. I would pack up and sling my heavy bag over my shoulder and turn off my desk light on the way out. I’d try to call Hannah, though I knew she was going through her own stuff, and I shouldn’t bother her. I’d walk home or catch the bus at the nearest stop. When I went inside, my mother would ask me a million questions, knowing I’d heard back about the promotion that she always assumed I’d receive.

How couldn’t I after all?

I’d given so much time. So much effort. It almost felt like I’d given everything I had left of myself.

I wasn’t ready for any of it.

So, I did what I always did.

I got back to work, opening my email and checking through upcoming appointments for the next project I’d be on as an assistant to another senior designer.