Grateful in Watch Hill : A Small Town Romance Sara Celi (polar express read aloud TXT) 📖

“I can guess.”

“When I had to leave New York, it was really devastating.”

I gulped. This was a conversation I hadn’t had with anyone, not even my father. Since coming home, I’d been focused on two things—helping him stay away from the virus and paying for our monthly expenses. That hadn’t left a lot of room for dwelling on the fallout of what had happened to me.

“It was one of the hardest decisions that I ever had to make.”

“I can imagine it was.” Seth pursed his lips. “I know you got that promotion at American Dance just before this all happened. It had to have been hard to leave that behind.”

“It was.”

I winced as the memory of my last full day at the company surfaced. I’d gone to the practice facility as normal, ignoring the headlines blowing up my phone. There was a virus out there, and the cases were escalating by the hour, but I hadn’t thought that affected me in any way. I wasn’t on a cruise ship; I didn’t live in a nursing home. I was young, so what did it matter? But as soon as I arrived at work, I was called to the director’s office. “I’m sorry,” Frank Martin, the ADC’s executive director, said from behind his imposing oak desk. “I know this is going to be a hard thing to hear, but we have to cancel our upcoming season. The board met this morning and we don’t see how we can continue to fund it in the wake of this.” It took me a few moments to first understand what he meant by this, and then to completely comprehend what the consequences for me would be.

It finally sunk in when they gave me three thousand dollars in severance pay. At least they’d offered me severance pay. That was more than most people I knew in the performing arts received. The money had been enough to pack up my apartment and move back home. I knew I should be grateful, but the shock still hurt.

“I have to do a lot of things in order to make ends meet,” I added now as I spoke to Seth. “It hasn’t been easy.”

“No, I imagine it hasn’t. Even though I had to close the nightclub, perhaps I should consider myself lucky that I didn’t have to move to a different state on top of that. I can’t fathom how hard that has been for you, Kendra. I’m sorry.”

I looked away, allowing myself to focus on the rest of the dining room at Sam’s Deli. It wasn’t crowded, a fact that still made me a little sad, a lingering reminder of all that had changed since the virus became part of our daily lives. The virus had raged long enough for people to alter their habits. Would I ever see a full restaurant again? It was a question I didn’t have a solid answer for.

“I know you know I’m working at FoodSwap,” I said. “I was embarrassed that you saw that.”

“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”

I returned my attention to Seth. “Maybe not, but I can’t tell you the number of times I’ve wondered if my life would be different if I had just done the sensible thing and gone to college instead of running off to New York to pursue my dancing dream. I would have had something to fall back on, and God knows I could have used that now.”

“Even if you had a degree, there’s no guarantee that would have given you the edge in the job search. Plenty of people are finding that out.” Seth laughed without humor. “I have an MBA from IU, and it hasn’t done me any good.”

“You do?”

“It’s tough out there. And I’m still lucky that a friend allowed me to work at his pizza joint.” He spread a hand. “I mean, it’s not like I’ve had a decent string of good fortune either.”

“You’ll get back in the nightclub business,” I said. “You will.”

Seth shrugged. “Maybe I don’t want to.” The server arrived at our table and Seth handed over his card without looking at the bill. “To be honest, I’m enjoying helping Kyle run the restaurant. He’s got a vision, and I think we will have a lot of success when we open the outdoor dining in a week or so. A lot of people around here will enjoy it.”

“That’s good.” I paused and thought about it. “Maybe that’s what this pandemic has done. It’s given us a chance to make a reset.”

“We could all use that sometimes.”

“You’re right.”

The server returned with the check, and Seth signed it. For the first time in forever, I felt genuinely hopeful and lighter. It had been a hard period for everyone, and no one was unaffected by the many changes, but the stress and strife had brought good things too. It strengthened my relationship with my dad, made me realize the value of a hard day’s work, and allowed me the chance to reconnect with people I wanted more of in my life, Seth being paramount among them. And in two days, I had a chance to start my career in a new way. I might be bruised and battered, but I wasn’t dead.

Not at all.

“Shall we?” Seth asked after he closed the bill.

“We shall.”

We exited the restaurant and strode out into the parking lot that united Sam’s Deli with the rest of downtown Watch Hill. I buttoned my blazer and hunched my shoulders against the nighttime breeze.

“Are you cold?” he asked.

“Not really. It feels kind of nice. I always enjoy this time of year, because soon it will be shorts and T-shirt weather. I like the transitions.”

“I do too.” Seth gestured at the arched pathway between the parking lot and the street. If we walked through, we’d pass The Pink Box, Already Perked coffee shop, and a few other stores lining the main route to the town square. “Want to take a walk?”

“I