A Second Chance at a First Impression

The next day, a Monday, was rainy and overcast; the small sunny spell that had flowed over the city coming to an abrupt end.

I was up early shuffling around the tiny apartment, cleaning and tidying up the place. The cheap, plastic clock on the wall struck 8 and I woke up Oliver, school began at 9:05 so I had just enough time to get him ready before having to walk him five blocks to school.

As I zipped up Oli’s raincoat, the blue plastic cold and smooth under my fingers. I ruffled his brown hair, taking his little hand within my own and we set off.

“Have a great day son,” I smiled before kissing him on the forehead.

He looked up at me with a sparkle in his eye before a little boy with golden blonde hair bounded up to us. “I brought my cars in today Oli!” They both shot off like rockets in the direction of the classroom. He turned giving me one last look before going into the room.

On my walk to work, I tried to remember what it was like when something as simple as a toy could brighten up my day. To turn it from awful to amazing, I wished adult life was that easy. As a parent I had the power to determine m son’s mood – he could scrape his knee; and a smile from myself could easily assure him everything was okay.

My own mother was an expert at that, her smile was bright and could rival the warmth that the sun radiated. That was something I missed most about her, she was the best mom you could ever wish for, but she was a devout Catholic – my whole family was.

When I was a child I attended church every Sunday and sometimes on Saturday if we didn’t have any previous engagements. I had a holy communion when I was 9, but despite the presence that religion had throughout my childhood, I never agreed with it. The amount of bad things that have happened in the world to good, innocent, law-abiding souls made me think there was no way there was a higher power. If there was how could they let such awful things happen?

Getting pregnant at 17 after a one-night stand with no fiancé, no husband was a sin in their eyes, unfortunately. And they felt that they couldn’t have anything more to do with me, the thought broke my heart, but I accepted it and moved on because I knew the more I dwelled on it, the more I thought about it, the more it would tear my soul into little unfixable pieces.

A sharp wind slapped across my face, I realised I was at work. I worked at a small book publishing company just on the outside of the city. I was going to NYU to study journalism, in hopes of writing for national paper; this pleased my parents because it could end up being a very well-paying job. However, I never told them I really wanted to write reviews and be a music journalist.

I walked inside the door a shook myself off, like the movement would hopefully rid my body of the freezing that was taking over my body bit by bit.

“Hey Kathy,” I smiled at my boss who returned the favour; the way her eyes crinkled at the edges always reminded me of my grandma.

“Ah, Katy, just the person I was looking for,” I dumped m bag and coat on my desk before walking into her office. The dark green walls reminding me of a dense forest; if you go in too far you might not be able to find your way out again.

Kathy was definitely one of the best bosses I’d ever worked for, although I was only her assistant, it helped fill the void in my life that becoming a journalist would have filled.“I just got this letter this morning, for you.” She smiled handing e the white envelope. The paper was smooth under my fingers; the front said Miss Katy Thomas, Bluebird Publishing.

“Thank you,” I said quietly before leaving the office, closing the oak door behind me.

I dropped the letter on my desk, after hanging up my coat and putting my bag under my desk, I picked up the letter. I brought my fingers up to the seal, when the phone rang.

The day continued as usual, it was quite hectic as there was a book by the company’s biggest author which was due for release. So the phone was ringing off the hook all day long.

It was three o clock so I was ready to leave; I had to pick Oli up at quarter past. I stuck my head in the door of Kathy’s office, she had her head down doing paperwork, and her hair was scraped back into a messy bun. Even though she had a demanding job, she was really relaxed and never seemed stressed out – I really admired her, she got to where she was through continuous hard work, she truly cared about young writers who were trying to get a foothold in the industry.

“I’ll see you tomorrow Kath,” she jumped slightly at the sound of my voice.

“Have you opened your letter?” she asked curiously, putting her pen down.

“Um…no, I completely forgot about it.” I answered truthfully.

She smiled widely; I wasn’t sure why the fact that I hadn’t opened a letter made her happy.

“Oh God, I’m running late to pick up Oli.”

Without another word, I ran from the office, almost sprinting down the road to make sure I got to Oli’s school on time.

“Twenty past,” I muttered to myself as I skidded through the gates and round to Oli’s classroom.

As I got closer the classroom, I tried to catch my breath; I heard what sounded like a hushed argument between two people.

“I’m sorry sir, I can’t let you just leave with him.” I heard a voice say sternly, I immediately recognised the voice as Oli’s teacher Miss Field.

“I’m his father, I’m not a creepy guy, I promise.” I heard Brendon whine back to her, he’d obviously been there for a while.

I came into their view and saw them both standing in strong poses with their arms crossed. Oli sat at a nearby table colouring, paying absolutely no attention to either of them.

“It’s alright Miss Field, he’s not lying.” I spoke, both of them looking at me.

“Are you sure Katy?” she asked raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, I am,” I smiled as Oli came up and wrapped his arms around my leg. “Come on Tiger, let’s get going,” I turned my attention to Brendon. “And you, let’s go.”

We began walking away, “Thank you so much Helen!” I called to Miss Field.

I held Oli’s hand as we walked down the road, I held Oli’s left hand in my own and when I looked down I saw Brendon holding his right. From an outsider’s view we probably looked like the perfect young family.

“How did you know where he went to school?” I asked Brendon.

He blushed slightly, “I saw the letter from the school on your coffee table, and I memorised the name.”

“Oh, thank you for picking him up, well thanks for trying,” I smiled at him.

“You’re welcome, and when I said I wanted to be a part of his life, I meant it.” he said to me seriously.

We arrived at our apartment ad went inside.

“I’m glad to hear it. Would you like to stay for dinner?” I offered.

“Yes, yes I would.” He smiled.

Brendon was keeping Oli occupied while I cooked. As I put the chicken in the oven, I remembered the letter I got at work earlier in the day.

I ran into the lounge and grabbed my bag. I couldn’t help but feel joy as I watched Oli and Brendon play with cars, they looked like a proper father and son, you could see the similarities, not only physical, but personality-wise too.

I returned to the kitchen before opening the letter. I scanned over the inked words, reading them and taking them in. I read it once, twice and a third time, just to make sure my eyes were not deceiving me.

According to the letter, I had an interview at Rolling Stone.

Through my body flowed confusion, which isn’t the norm for someone who had just been offered the job of a lifetime. I didn’t know how I would have even been considered for the job, seeing as my qualifications were limited to my high school diploma.