It was seven minutes after one in the afternoon and Mottie was preparing to celebrate her promotion at the publishing company. She’d been a junior editor for about three years and she was finally getting her chance to run the show. Her supervisor David Coles was going to start-up his own business and he was moving to Australia. He decided to host a celebratory luncheon for Mottie, in conjunction with a going away party for himself.
The luncheon was going to begin at around three in the afternoon and Mottie was the type of person to wanted to be involved even if the event was in honor of her, she showed up at about one-thirty in the afternoon, to help set up. She had never been to Coles’ house in Medford, and she heard it was one of the biggest in the neighborhood. She heard great things about it, like how the back patio-deck faced the woods with such splendid scenery surrounding.
“Mottie, what are you doing here so soon, we are not quite ready for you yet?” Coles says.
“I am here to help set up” Mottie says.
“I always liked that about you Mottie, a real selfless person, help yourself to the deck, I will be right over in a moment”
Mottie walks out on the deck and the view was just as she imagined. The smell of pine filled the air, rising off of the green on the trees. To her left the table was prepared with wonderful decor, the glasses and utensils were a fainted and transparent blue resting on top of off white table settings. There was jazz music playing from the deck speakers harmonized with the sounds
of nature. Coles walks out on the deck wearing black slacks and a fainted blue collared shirt, leaving the top button undone.
“Are you ready for the big leagues, Mottie?”
“I am, I’ve been wanting this my whole life”
“Do you want to know why I recommended you for this position?”
“Because you’ve got spunk, truly, you just put yourself in front of the opportunity. On top of that you got an interesting style of dress. You do that thing with your hair, sort of how you got it now, the your bow-ties are always top of the line. My only recommendation is that you get rid of the clip-ons, you’ve got to tie your own”
“Thank you Coles, I really appreciate the recommendation, you have no idea, how excited I was when Daniels broke the news to me.”
It was approaching two forty-five in the afternoon and a small group of people, where coming in through the house, heading to the deck.
“It smells fabulous in the kitchen!” someone yells.
“I bet that is Daniels” Coles says. Mottie laughs.
Cedric Daniels, one of the writers, walks through on to the deck first, in purple slacks and a grey blazer, going on about the fabulous smell of the food and how beautiful the deck was. Mottie and Coles share a few inside laughs. The house caterers head out with margaritas, Daniels was the first to grab one, going on about his love for a good margarita. Mottie gets a phone call and steps over to an isolated part of the deck. Mottie’s brother was calling to inform her that their mother was growing ill and soon to pass away. Her face dropped: eyes full of anguish and cheeks drooped. Her brother told her that he needed her to move back to New York as soon as she
could, because he was not sure how much longer the mother had. Mottie didn’t have a response, she felt cold inside, she hung up the phone and her body fell against the side of the house and her head sank into her chest. Susan Veerini, the secretary, sees her and slips over to check on her.
“Hey Mottie, you okay, come over a have a drink”
“I can’t, I, I have to go”
“What do you mean, we just got here”
“You ever work so hard for something, and realize that you can’t even enjoy it? It is like I take a few steps forward and all of a sudden I end up back where I started.”
“Mottie, you are being promoted! That’s the best news ever.”
“I have to move back to New York, I think, excuse me, I think I have to throw-up.”
Mottie brushes pass Susan and runs into the house, the smell of food ignited the sick feeling in her stomach, she began to throw up on the kitchen floor and tears began to trickle down her face. After a few attempts to keep composure, Mottie breaks down in full tears and loud cries. One of the caterers alert Coles and he runs into the house.
“Mottie! Mottie! What is going on? Are you okay? Someone grab her a club soda!”
Dom S. Flagg 2016