The One That Got Away?

Lorie Johnson came home from a disappointing day from work in late September. Her editing firm was going bankrupt and she had been laid off consequently. She was mildly concerned about finances, but she was an award winning author and could live off the royalties. In the meantime she could catch up writing on her latest novel and brainstorm ideas. Editing firms were always eager to hire authors, specifically successful authors, to work in their firms. Lorie wasn’t worried about acquiring a new job, but she liked the location of the firm. She currently lived in the Los Angeles area near Beverly Hills, but wasn’t anywhere rich enough to afford that area, and the firm was about a five minute drive from her loft. As an editor she could work from anywhere but had to check in with the office one a month, and flying on planes was not one of her favorite pastimes.
On her way from the office she picked up a tub of cookie dough ice cream to gorge on while she felt pitiful for herself. Lorie was generally happy with her life and her passion for writing seemed to grow with every page typed. Although she hadn’t dated since her freshman year of college, she was happy. Lorie had just turned twenty-two and had published six books. She wrote fiction and historical non-fiction, opposite ends of the spectrum. Lorie was never settled with just doing one thing and was constantly looking for a challenge. Her historical novels were primarily on French and English history, a great passion of hers. Lorie Johnson was considered one of the great literary minds of her generation. She had won two Pulitzer Prizes at ages eighteen and twenty-one and her novels were always best sellers and praised by critics. Lorie was never recognized due to the hype on celebrities and pop culture, flying on the radar much to the fine arts disapproval.
Lorie had caramel brown hair that cascaded down her back hanging just past her shoulder blades. She had brown-green eyes that almost turned amber in the sun; small freckles dotted around her eyes and across her nose. Lorie was very thin and petite, only standing about 5’2” and had thick black rimmed glasses. Lorie was curvy but never looked overweight due to her curves. Lorie was often told she was beautiful, not that she believed it.
Lorie arrived at her loft, ice cream in hand, and immediately her cat Shakespeare began mewing for attention. She loved that cat more than life. Book signings cross-country were hard for her because she had to leave him. His grey fur and brown eyes were a comforting sight to her relatively lonely life. She set the ice cream on the counter and picked up Shakespeare in her arms and carried him around while she got his food out and a bowl of ice cream for herself. Shakespeare was an odd cat and had almost human-like qualities. He meowed in approval of her food selection and began to woof it down. She moved over to the couch and curled up with ice cream and a book. She had read about twenty pages when Shakespeare curled up on her lap and began dozing off. Lorie loved days like this; the simplicity of the moment was something she always craved.
A shrill ring of the phone caused Shakespeare to let out a groan of disapproval and Lorie to huff and lean over to grab the phone. The caller ID said “Dad”. Lorie was born into the perfect family until her mother passed away from cancer. Her mom lived to see her first book published at age sixteen. Her mother was her biggest fan and best friend. Lorie was never the same after her mother died; it almost felt like a piece of her died. Lorie wrote to make her mother proud, after all her mother loved everything she wrote. Lorie’s mother, Jackie, was convinced Lorie would become an author where her father wanted her to go into something more practical. Her father was a relatively cold man, loved her to death, but wasn’t sure how to show her that. He was also a very strict man with high expectations her, and no doubt her had heard about her firm’s bankruptcy. Her father remarried one year after her mother died, and she inherited two new stepsisters. The cliché of Cinderella became her reality except her father wasn’t dead. Chantal her oldest sister was a model and the middle sister, Megan, was a cosmetologist living in Pittsburgh. Lorie stayed in Los Angeles, her hometown after her new “parents” moved to New York.
Lorie clicked the answer button and brought the phone to her ear. “Hi Daddy,” Lorie said meekly.
“I’m sorry Lorie.” Her father responded in his curt fashion.
“It’s alright daddy.” Lorie replied.
“Well I heard about the collapse of the firm and I now have a proposition, or project if you will, for you.” Her father replied in the same dull tone.
“What do you have in mind?” Lorie asked cautiously.
“I just heard Megan got engaged to her boyfriend, and your mother told her of your situation, and she offered to have you help her plan the wedding.” Her father replied dryly. It took all of Lorie’s composure to not bust out laughing; Megan would never do a good natured thing for Lorie in her life. Who was putting up with Megan long enough to marry anyway? Some dolts they are, Lorie snickered internally at the thought.
“I don’t know daddy, I don’t think it’s the best idea. I’m already looking for a new job.” She replied only stretching the truth slightly.
“I want you to help Megan, Lorie.”
“Daddy I just don’t think it would be good for me to move all that way.” Lorie tried to argue.
“I want you to do this Lorie, not arguments. I sent the ticket to you through email.” He replied irritated.
“Yes Daddy,” Lorie replied losing her voice. Her father muttered a quick goodbye and hung up. Lorie looked down at Shakespeare. “Well it looks like we’re going to Pittsburgh.” Shakespeare let out another discontented groan. Lorie picked up one of the pillows and brought it to her face muffling her scream.
~
Lorie spent all night packing. She noticed the ticket had no return date which subsequently caused her anger to flare. Her father expects her to pick up and move cross country to help her with her wedding to some tool no doubt. She had a life of her own and nobody seemed to respect that. Megan despised Lorie but acted like a perfect princess around everyone else. Megan had a mean and vindictive streak where Lorie was concerned. She had three suitcases full of clothes. Her largest suit case contained jeans, the middle sized one contained t-shirts, mainly Los Angeles Kings shirts, and the smallest case had every pair of Converse she owned as well as her toiletries and pajama pants. Lorie was a simple girl, wearing King’s t-shits and any other shirt with a nifty logo or saying on it, primarily boot-cut jeans, and converse. Lorie was a nerd and she embraced it. Lorie could dress up for a charity event if she needed to, but was more comfortable in jeans and a t-shirt.
Lorie grabbed Shakespeare in his cat carrier, her luggage, and went downstairs to the awaiting cab. Her loft was on a six month lease and she was on month four so it was covered to stay by itself. Her flight time was five a.m. and she was set to land around noon. She was wearing a pair of light was boot cut jeans, and Kopitar t-shirt, and a pair of black converse. Her hair was swept into a pony tail with just mascara and Chap Stick on. The ride to the airport was relatively short and the fear of moving was finally setting in. Lorie suffered from anxiety attacks and she was fighting one off now. She told herself it wasn’t permanent and everything would be fine. She believed her lies enough to calm down. A creature of habit does not do well with drastic change.
The airplane ride was a constant fight of warding off an anxiety attack. Once she finally touched down in Pittsburgh she was on edge. Lorie raced to the pet pickup center. An airline worker was talking on the phone twirling a piece of hair and smacking her lips together. It took everything in Lorie not to rip her hair out. Finally a male worker came out holding Shakespeare in his crate. She began fawning over him and consoling him in the crate.
“How’s mamma’s boy?” Lorie asked Shakespeare who meowed with an almost smile on her face to see his mother again. He began purring as she went to baggage claim. She pulled each suit case off the carousel and walked out to where her sister was supposedly waiting for her. She sat Shakespeare on top of the suit case and stood up on her tip toes to search for Megan. A whip of blonde hair and green eyes blindsided her. Megan engulfed her in a hug and Shakespeare let out a long groan of disapproval. Shakespeare has only met Megan once and hated her; Lorie knew he was a good judge of character.
“Oh my God! Lorie you look so thin and pretty!” Megan shouted jumping up and down while holding her. Lorie decided somebody must be watching them if Megan was this excited to see her.
“Likewise.” Lorie replied and Shakespeare continued to grovel. “Oh hush Shakespeare, you remember Megan don’t your?” Lorie asked the cat who groaned again loudly. A snicker came from behind Megan drawing Lorie’s attention that way. When she looked up the shock on her face must have been a sight to behold.
“Way to make a good impression on my fiancée Lorie, talking to you cat. You always were a silly one.” Megan said.
“It’s very nice to meet you Lorie.” The man said. He sounded just like he did on TV. She was looking directly at the one and only Sidney Crosby. How did her sister manage to snag him?