She stared at nothing out the window until the sun was far past setting. The
streetlights from below cast the only light in her office, glancing pale orange light up the sides of the walls as she sat alone and silent in the dark.
* * *
The rest of the week was a blur. On Thursday, ahead of schedule even, Garman
received word from Nitrovex that Kate's preliminary rebranding proposal was one of the final two candidates. The meeting with the Garman team the next afternoon was also a success. Kate breezed in, confident in her navy-blue dress,
presented her designs, her plans, her new slogan.
The Art of Solutions.
It had come to her in the middle of the night, like all good ideas are supposed to, out of nowhere. She had been half asleep, thinking about the paintings at the Art Institute, as if she were in them, floating on a Monet lily pad, running through the smooth green melon-shaped hills of a Grant Wood painting.
And it had come to her.
It wasn't just all chemistry. There was an art to it, even though it seemed like
it was just about mixing together tanks of foaming liquid. Just like Peter had told her. There is an art, even a beauty to chemistry. Putting the molecules together for just the right solution. One tiny piece off and the whole thing wouldn't work.
She had even remembered that Nitrovex made binding agents for paints and art supplies.
The Garman board had loved the idea and the logo she had designed. A
stylized painter's palette that also looked like a beaker. It had fit perfectly into the larger proposal she had already been working on. They were just the last two
pieces, the capstone that held everything together. It had finally clicked. At least something finally had in her life.
She spent Saturday at the office, surrounded by co-workers who kept
congratulating her. This was the final stretch. She was due back at Nitrovex next
Friday for the last presentation, then on to the next project. No more Golden Grove whether she landed the account or not. Nitrovex would be handed off to
more junior staff. Onward and upward for Kate.
She should be happy. Right?
She stared out her apartment window that night, hands in her robe pocket.
The view was a similar apartment building across the way, banks of rectangles,
some lit, some not, staring blankly. She wondered if someone equally happy was
staring back at her from the dark of their living room.
This was the part where she was supposed to be ecstatic. Her bosses were impressed, her first big project looked like it was destined for success.
She picked up her phone and popped up her music app. A variety of
suggested playlists rolled through the screen, one picturing four snarling guys in eyeliner and huge blond hair.
“Pop go the eighties.” She smiled sadly, thinking of the dance going on tonight, her half-promise to Peter to be there.
She thumbed a song on, and cheesy, synthesized music bounced out. She
picked up her glass and sipped her wine. It was from a box left in the fridge, but it was surprisingly good. Another smile. But it was not the solution, right?
He was probably out there on the dance floor right now, with someone.
Wasn't he? Getting on with his life after she left him behind again?
She grabbed her phone, heading for the couch, her fuzzy pink slippers
shuffling across the wood floor of the dining area. She flipped through the playlist and found it. “Don't Do Your Love.”
Don't Do Your Love…what did that even mean? How did you “do” love?
Well, that was the question of the year, wasn't it? And any teacher would have
failed her on that quiz. Especially Peter.
She thought about crying, but she was too tired. She'd be back in Golden Grove on Friday now since she'd done such a great job. Yay for me. But Peter would be busy teaching, doing what he was meant to do, where he was meant to
do it.
And her? Where was she meant to be? Here? Pushing more papers, grinding out more proposals?
