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Besides my career being somewhat of a mess, my love life was even worse. It was a joke, really. I hadn’t been out on a date in over six months. I swear cobwebs had taken up residence down below. B-O-B wasn’t even getting action lately. Cassidy had tried to set me up on several blind dates, but each one of them ended up in the “epic failure” category.

My most recent, failed blind date was with Matt. Matt was Cassidy’s accountant for her bridal boutique business and she insisted that he was an attractive, normal guy. I hadn’t been out with someone in several months so I figured it wouldn’t hurt to give Matt a whirl. What’s the worst that can happen, right? Matt and I had talked on the phone for several nights before we finally decided to go to dinner. He seemed down to earth during our phone conversations and we seemed to really hit it off. For the first time in several years, I was looking forward to spending quality time with a man.

When Matt picked me up at my apartment for dinner, I was a little surprised when I answered the door and he was wearing a black polo shirt that was entirely covered in cat hair. I guess I was hoping for a man who was a little more kept.

I was even more shocked when I got outside and Matt opened the back door for me to slide in. He wouldn’t let me sit in the front seat because it was already taken by “Princess Sophia,” his feline companion.
Seriously, this is a true story; I couldn’t make this shit up if I tried. I really thought “Krull the Warrior King” was going to emerge from the back seat.
I remember thinking that this date was over before it even began, but I smiled and scooted into the back seat, trying not to get white cat fur all over my black mini-dress.

All through dinner, Matt kept talking about Princess Sophia and showed me at least a dozen photos and six film clips from his iPhone. He even ordered a takeout of the salmon filet special for her to eat. Might I add, that he paid for Princess Sophia’s dinner, but did not pick up my tab.

Before taking me home, Matt also made a trip to the pet store to pick up some kitty kibble. Let’s just say that I didn’t even allow Matt to walk me to the door when he finally dropped me off at my apartment.

I yelled at Cassidy for weeks about “Cat Matt,” as we dubbed him. She did apologize profusely when she realized the ten photos of his cat on his desk should have been a telltale sign. I haven’t allowed her to set me up on a blind date in the last six months because of my horrible feline-induced nightmares.

I decided one Saturday evening, as I was feeling sorry for myself, that if I couldn’t do anything for my social life then it was, at least, time to put my skills and degrees to work. I still owed far too much to the government in student loans to remain at a crappy-paying job. I had plenty of experience now and I knew I had the ability to make a decent living still doing what I loved. My dad would understand. Maybe in time he would even want to move out East with me.

The three of us had visited the Mid-Atlantic region during my childhood on several occasions. My dad’s ancestors had settled in the Maryland and Pennsylvania areas in the 1800s and my mom always enjoyed working on his family tree. She had already completed her genealogical lineage and made it her mission to complete his, as well.

I remember taking two trips to Maryland when I was about twelve. We spent our vacation among dusty books in the basement of area historical societies, libraries and even walking around cemeteries looking for century-old gravestones. At the time, I remember wishing I could be riding the tea cups at Disney World like all the other kids at school, but I wouldn’t trade that time helping my mom for anything now.

I had to start putting myself first again. After Jay dumped me all those years ago and after losing my shot at love with Rich Davis, I had put my efforts into my education and later my career. My mom was my rock through those first years and when we lost her unexpectedly, it was the hardest time of my life. I remember walking around zombielike for days, or even weeks. Heck, maybe that was still me. Maybe that’s why I never took the leap and moved to D.C.

I used my poor father as my excuse and my crutch, but maybe the truth was that I didn’t want to leave home and the memories. Sure, I didn’t live in their house anymore, but I visited at least every other day. I would often cook dinner for dad and even helped him with laundry from time to time. I knew deep down that he was self-sufficient, but it gave me a reason to stay and to feel needed.

My mom died unexpectedly from what doctor’s originally thought was a simple infection. I could still hear her voice as she talked to me in the hospital just a few days before she died. My dad and my uncle (her brother) were there visiting, but had gone down to the cafeteria to grab a cup of coffee. My mom and I were alone in her room. I had taken her hairbrush out of the bedside table and was gently running the brush through her tangled hair, which besides a few gray strands matched the color of my own. She stopped me and pulled my head down to her chest. Petting the back of my head like she had done countless times before when I needed some comforting, she whispered softly in my ear so only I would hear.

“I’m so glad the three people that I love the most are here with me today. But, just remember, it’s you that I love the most. I’ll always be with you, baby girl.”

I thought she was just scared that day in the hospital, but now I know that she knew she was sicker than what she was letting on. She was telling me goodbye. I’ll never forget that moment, or her words. She will always be with me. No matter if I stay here in Michigan, or move to Washington D.C., her memories will always live within me, not in a particular city, or building.

It felt good to reminisce without feeling sad. Sure, I missed my mom tremendously, but it was time to move on. She would want me to be happy and to pursue the dreams that I had always envisioned for myself. If I couldn’t be happy in love, at least, I could be happy in my work.

On Sunday morning, I dragged myself out of bed, popped my French vanilla flavored K-Cup in my new Keurig coffee maker, and sat down at my laptop to update my resume. After I had completed the resume, I wrote the sauciest cover letter and addressed the envelope c/o
The Washington Post
.

I had researched job openings the night before and saw they had a position open for a rookie reporter. Sure, I wasn’t exactly a rookie anymore, but maybe they would decide they wanted someone with a little more experience. I had been doing the reporting thing for the last five years and covered every aspect from feature writing, local government and schools to reviews and opinion pieces.
Yes, they would want me – a seasoned reporter.

The next three weeks went by and I had pretty much forgotten about my mailed application. They had probably decided to go with the rookie reporter to save on costs. I mean practically every business in corporate America is cutting costs these days.

It was a little after one o’clock when I heard my phone vibrate. I didn’t recognize the out-of-area number that appeared on the screen and I almost sent it to voicemail assuming it was just another telemarketer wanting me to consolidate my debt.
Right, like they could handle my debt.
The call was on its last ring when I remembered the resume I had sent weeks ago, so I quietly picked up the call so as to not disturb my co-workers.

“Hello,” I answered.

“Hello, Ms. Anderson?”

“Yes, this is she.”

“Hi, my name is Caroline Murphy. I’m Mr. Davis’s secretary with the
Washington Post
. He recently received your resume and is interested in scheduling an interview.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. the
Washington Post
was calling.
Holy Fuck,
the
Washington Post was calling! Breathe and respond to the woman, Brooke.

“Yes, that would be great. I would appreciate that opportunity very much.”

“OK, great, how about next week? Would Tuesday work for you? Let’s say eleven a.m.”

“Yes, I do believe that would work just fine.”

“Great, I will e-mail you with flight and hotel arrangements. If you have any further questions, please don’t hesitate to call, or e-mail. Have a nice day, Ms. Anderson.”

“Thank you,” I said before ending the call.

Oh My God! Oh My God! Oh My God! This wasn’t really happening.
I couldn’t contain my excitement as I exited my cubicle and ran through the office. I probably received a few blank stares, but I just couldn’t help myself as I jumped up and down, even in my heels. I had to call Cassidy and tell her the incredible news!

Cass was as giddy with excitement about this interview as I was. She insisted on meeting me for dinner at our favorite bar sans Kaitlyn for the evening. It was like old times; I was so excited to spend some girl-time with my best friend. Kaity-bug was just as excited to spend the night with her grandma, so that helped ease my guilt for not including her, just a bit.

I arrived at Bubba’s shortly before eight, and was surprised to see Cass already waiting for me in our old corner booth.

“You’re early, lady!” I yelled from across the bar.

“Mom took Kaitlyn early, so I thought I would get a head start. I don’t get many nights to myself so I wanted to take advantage.”

Just as I was slipping into the somewhat tattered booth, our favorite bartender, Scott, walked over to take my order.

“Hey, beautiful ladies, long time, no see. What are you having tonight, Brooke?”

“Hey Scott, I’ll have what she’s having as I pointed toward Cass’ nearly empty glass.”

“One Long Island coming right up.”

“A Long Island? Holy shit, Cass, you really did want to take advantage! I can only have one of those. You do realize it’s a Wednesday and normal people still have to work tomorrow.”

“Eh, that’s the beauty of running your own business. My boss doesn’t crawl up my ass if I’m late, or take a mental health day.”

Cass had combined her knack for fashion and design with her business degree, and with a little monetary assistance from her parents, she was able to open her own wedding planning business. She was so wonderful at it, too. She had all the area’s brides eating out of the palm of her hand. It really was shocking that she hadn’t been able to plan her own wedding, yet.

Scott just stood there and watched our back-and-forth banter as if he was fully enjoying the show.

“Hey Scottie with the body, fill ‘er up again, will ya?”

“Sure thing, ladies, two Long Islands coming right up. Oh, and Cassidy, might I add you are looking damn fine tonight.” With that declaration, he walked away, leaving us both completely speechless.

After watching Scott and Cass flirt outrageously throughout the evening, I decided it was time to call it a night. Cass told me she was OK and that I could go on ahead without her. I made her promise to call me, if she couldn’t catch a cab to get home.

She insisted on meeting me on Saturday to find the perfect outfit for my interview the following week. I couldn’t very well tell her no once she gave me that puppy dog, pouty face. Unfortunately for me, she shared that identical expression with her daughter and they both knew that I always fell for it hook, line and sinker.