A Crazy Morning

“I’m late!” I jump out of bed and dash over to my dresser, throwing my outfit on as fast as I can.

How did I let it get this far?

~~~

I was up really late last night with a friend, Emma. I had a bad day yesterday and she came to help me get over it.

My boyfriend broke up with me because his “feelings had faded,” and he “wasn’t having fun anymore.” So ridiculous.

And I was supposed to get an email that my book was published, but I never got one. That caused a bit of anxiety for me.

So, Emma came over. We watched a movie, had some ice cream, drank, and then finally went to bed at…three in the morning, I think?

But, I was supposed to have a meeting with an author at nine.

So, yeah, I may have panicked when I saw that the clock read ten o’clock.

~~~

I sprint down the stairs and rush to the kitchen to make a coffee.

“Hey, sweetie,” I say to my five year old son, Thomas, as I start the coffee maker.

“Morning, mama,” he replies. He is sitting on his chair at the kitchen table.

As the coffee brews, I quickly pack Thomas’s lunch and place a bowl of cereal in front of him.

“Where is your babysitter?” I mutter as I check my phone to make sure I didn’t miss any texts.

While I’m at it, I decide to try and call the author, Ella Smith.

Ring, ring, ring.

No answer.

I will try again.

Ring, ring, ring.

Gosh darnit, why won’t she pick up? Please tell me I didn’t let her down. Oh god, how I hate letting people down.

Then, I get a message.

Where were you?

How do I respond to that? ‘Sorry, I was up late drinking last night. Missed my alarms’?

I take a deep breath and reluctantly send a reply.

I am so, so, sorry. I slept in. I was up late last night working on another book and my son just wouldn’t go to sleep.

It takes about two minutes for her to respond.

Two long, terrifying minutes.

It’s fine. I left half an hour ago and returned home. If you want a chance with this collaboration, meet me at the Sunny Cafe in fifteen minutes.

Yes! She’s giving me another chance! I pump my fist in the air with a big goofy smile on my face.

“Mommy, why do you look like you just won the lottery?” my son asks with interest.

“Oh, no reason, sweetie. Just let me call the babysitter really quick,” I say softly.

I quickly type a response back to Ella.

Of course. I will be there as soon as I can.

Then, I call my son’s babysitter, Julia.

“Hello?” Julia asks as she picks up.

“Oh my god, hi! Where are you? You’re supposed to be here by now,” I say in a slightly frustrated tone.

“What are you talking about? I have the day off.” I can hear her scoff slightly.

Why did I hire her again? Oh, yeah. Because no one else was available.

“No, you do not. I specifically texted you a week ago and asked if you were free today. You said yes. And here we are, not with you at my house to watch my son,” I snap back.

She stays silent and that irritates me even more.

“You know what? Never mind. I’ll get someone else to watch Thomas.”

“No, wait, Miss Rose-” I hang up on her.

“Get in the car, Thomas. I’m driving you to Emma’s. I’m sure she won’t mind. She never has anything to do on a Saturday morning.” I send Emma a quick text and then step back into the kitchen to grab the coffee. I’ll drink it on the way.

Thomas mutters an, “Okay,” and then jumps off of his seat to go and put on his black sneakers.

I put on my flats and swing my work bag over my shoulder. Inside is my laptop, my journal, a few writing utensils, a pack of gum, and one of my books, “The Shadow of Love.”

I shove my phone in my pocket and hold the door open as my son sprints through with his little travel backpack.

We load into the car and I start driving to Emma’s house. Luckily, it is only about two minutes from mine.

“Thanks, Emma,” I say to her as she gets Thomas out of the car.

“No problem. Now, hurry.” She shoots me a smile and I quickly drive to the cafe.

Five….

Four…

Three…

Two…

“I’m here! I’m here!” I basically breathe the words as I step into the cafe and glance around.

This place smells of coffee and…blueberry muffins.

The walls are colors like orange, yellow, and pink. I guess it fits with their name.

I spot Ella at a table to the left and rush over to her, plopping down in the seat across from her.

“Hi. Hello, so sorry I was late this morning. As I said, I couldn’t sleep last night and I was just so busy and I had to watch my son this morning and-” I start. She holds up her hand and I immediately shut my mouth.

“I don’t care how your morning went. Let’s just get to business,” she says firmly.

“Oh, of course.” I smile nervously.

“Why should I work with you on this book?,” She asks as she leans back and crosses her arms. “Convince me.”

“Well…” I take a deep breath and place my hands on the table in front of me.

You need this. You need it for your son. You need it for yourself.

I think through the steps that Emma told me last night.

Step one: Compliment.

“Well…You are an amazing writer. My favorite, as a matter of fact. Just, your wording is so…powerful and emotional and I need someone so good to teach me how to be like them,” I say seriously but softly at the same time.

She tilts her head, seemingly more interested.

Yes, Emma. Thank you.

Step two: Explain.

“I’ve been trying to work on a book but my mind’s just been too clouded. I haven’t been able to think. So, I thought, ‘Why not ask for help?’ And here we are, I thought you’d be best.” I fidget with my fingers as I talk. Dang, I need to cut my nails.

“And what are my benefits of joining you?” She raises an eyebrow.

Step three: Persuasion.

“Yes, that. You said you’ve read a few of my books. Well, and I don’t mean to brag, you can tell how well I write. And I know how well you write. If this book sells for a lot and gets good rates, imagine the profit we can make and the love we can spread.” I try to sound as persuasive as I can, smiling reassuringly.

Please tell me this works…

It takes her about a minute or two to respond.

“Fine. Sounds like a good reward and…perhaps I feel like it would be fun to work with you,” She says. Her expression softens but only slightly. She still looks like she could tear me into a million pieces.

I smile again, this time more confidently.

“Thank you,” I say softly.

“No problem. Now, get out of here before I change my mind.” She takes a sip of the water that’s been in front of her.

“Oh, yes, of course. Here is my number.” I place a piece of paper on the table as I stand up. “Keep me updated.”

She nods slightly and I can feel her eyes tearing into the back of my head as I walk out the door.

But that doesn’t matter. I got it. I got her to work with me.

This is amazing.

I put the car in drive and start driving to Emma’s to pick up my son.

Wow. This really has been a crazy morning.