Thankless life

“Thanks a lot,” I said earnestly at the news of my new promotion. I guess it was true what they said about the holidays being a very giving season. Ever since I became an independent adult, no one really gave or did things for me out of kindness. Everyone was too busy trying to get by day by day when you became an adult and had to pay bills. I smiled though chasing away my jaded thoughts. I texted my best friend, Jamie, about the good news.

Ever since we started working in the office together as new hires, we got along instantly and hung out outside of work all the time. If there was anyone I wished got the promotion aside from me, it was Jamie. We agreed to meet up tomorrow after our shift, and I went to bed more than happy with today’s events.

It was only the 13th of November, but the advertisements for thanksgiving products were in your face. My family stopped hosting thanksgiving five years ago to tired to prepare hours’ worth of food. Instead, they just went to my cousin’s thanksgiving now. However, they lived in another state, so I got out of attending the large family meetings.

Pulling up to the pancake house, I parked the car, grabbed my purse, and got out to greet Jamie, who was already at the front door. Thanks to holiday discounts, the place was busy, but the seasonal pancakes were worth enduring the loud environment. Jamie immediately hugged me, her petite height just barely to my chest. I returned the hug “let’s get some food. I skipped lunch to fill up here.” Jamie laughed, probably have done the same, and we went inside, taking out seats. It was by a window so the sunlit our table.

I promptly gave my order to the waiter, already knowing what I wanted, and took a drink of the pink lemonade placed in front of me. Jamie leaned in, placing an elbow on the table, and excitedly spoke now, “so how shocked were you?” 

Pausing for dramatics, I spoke, widening my eyes, “super surprised.” Most everyone who saw Jamie and me together described us as kids playing together. She giggled, taking a sip of her ice tea before speaking, “what did you say? Becoming a team lead is pretty serious.” I shrugged, confident in my abilities after working at the office for nearly six years. 

“I said thanks a lot before the boss hung up on me. It was late when he called, so I figured I could ask for details today.” Jamie began to roll her wrists; working at a computer for 8 hours a day made your hands a bit achy after a while.

“Hey, maybe you can give me some special privileges now, huh?” Jamie lightly kicked my leg with a playful smile. I kicked her back. “Yeah, right! Like I wanna be demoted almost immediately after getting promoted.” Our playful banter continued for about 15 minutes before our food was served. 

I dug into my pumpkin bread pancakes topped with maple syrup and caramel while Jamie ate the same thing. For a long time, I honestly felt like my life was going nowhere after working the same job and doing the same routine for years. Maybe my life was finally going somewhere; perhaps I would finally have a reason to talk to my parents again.

We stopped short of finishing and sipped our drinks. “Luckily, you are still working the same shift, though. I don’t know what I would do having to work alone in that boring office.” I nodded, thankful as well “yeah, but now I get to boss you around.” 

Jamie kicked my leg again “maybe, but I still have the louder voice.” I briefly compared Jamie to a small dog barking in my head and laughed to myself.  She likely guessed my thought and began to pout, “I know what your thinking, jerk.” It’s true I made the joke before, but I still couldn’t help laughing at it even if it was in my head.

We woefully parted ways when the sun was beginning to set and began to drive to our respective homes after hugging one last time. The familiar sound of my phone going off alerted me. I strictly followed the no phone usage while driving policy, though, so it would have to wait. However, I began to think about potentially spending thanksgiving with Jamie this year. She usually went to be with her family but honestly, I had wanted to ask her to have dinner with me for the past three years. 

I sighed, recalling my father’s lectures on how you had to spend every holiday with your family. He would yell at me for even thinking about taking Jamie away from her family for thanksgiving. Not like I wanted to go with Jamie to see her family. Though I was an outsider, I shouldn’t intrude. I pulled into the dark parking lot; my apartment was on the second floor. I couldn’t help noticing how pretty the bright orange and yellow leaves were under the street lamps nears the sidewalk. 

On a whim, I picked up a yellow leaf and brought it inside with me. It did little to brighten up my mess of a one-bedroom apartment, but it was something at least. Sliding my shoes off by the door, I immediately headed for the couch and flopped down with a deep sigh. I was still in a good mood, but I felt tired after taking in so much new information on my new position. I checked my phone seeing one email notification.

It was from my work; it looked like the same email was sent to numerous others from the heading. It was a promotional email asking me to reply with three things I am thankful for. I suppose it was fitting for the holiday coming up. If I responded to the survey, they would give me a 20 dollar gift card of my choice. I wasn’t a penny pincher, but I took free money where I could get it.

I clicked on the link bringing me a google survey page decorated with cartoonish turkeys and various relevant holiday illustrations. This was the first time they did a survey like this since the time I worked here. I would have liked to receive this earlier and get a gift card to the pancake house, but oh well. Scrolling down, I was now comfortably lying down on my back, thankful for the soft cushions on my aching back. 

I found three empty lines where I could fill in my answers. I thought to Jamie, who would naturally answer a question like this with jokey answers. There was very little difference between us except how I tended to take things more sincerely than she did most of the time. I filled in my first answer, “My best friend and co-worker Jamie” I really didn’t know what I would do without her.

I filled out the second line after a minute of thinking, “my job.” That would score me points as well with my boss, I imagined.

For the third line, I typed “my parents.” It was probably a common answer. However, I had to admit even if I weren’t close to my mom and dad as I was when I was a kid, I wouldn’t be who I was without their often strict but sometimes kind parenting.

At the very bottom of the screen, I saw a line to fill in the choice of my gift card and typed “pancake house.” It wasn’t a fancy place, but I enjoyed it the most out of the restaurants in the area. And I ate out more than I probably should if I was being honest with myself. 

I got up, stretching and got ready for bed, today was eventful, but hopefully, the coming days would bring even greater fortune.

The next day I brought up the survey to Jamie; she hadn’t gotten one, though. And no one else in my department did either; I was beginning to feel a bit bad if I was the only one who got one. My boss reassured me that one person was chosen at random in each department to get the survey, which made me feel better.

Other than that, the next two weeks passed with no issues aside from my training to become a team leader. I didn’t expect it to be this much work to manage a team of 6 people, but it kept me very busy. I spent less time with Jamie after work, but I promised myself to ask her to stay for thanksgiving this weekend. 

When the time rolled around for me to ask, I invited her to come to my house this weekend. She didn’t refuse, not like I expected her to in the first place. I woke up earlier than usual and cleaned up a little; I wasn’t embarrassed to have my place seen in a mess. Jamie had seen it plenty of times by now, but I was still a considerate person and cleaned it up a little. I sat down on the couch and watched some Netflix while waiting for the expected knock.

After a couple of hours, I finally looked at my phone and saw that it was past time that she was here. I quickly texted her, “where are you? Did you get held up my traffic?” I wasn’t exactly hiding my worry. When there was no reply for ten minutes, I began to feel worried and began to call her. No one picked up. It just kept ringing. Jamie liked to joke around, but she wasn’t one to be late; in fact, she was very punctual. 

The day passed filled with anxiety as I still got no reply via text or calls. Sleep didn’t come easy that night nor the next as there was still no reply. Maybe something came up, and she happened to forget her phone at home. It had happened once before; it was the only reasonable explanation for the sudden radio silence. When I had to go to work on, Monday Jamie still didn’t show up, so I began to ask around. No one knew anything, just that she hadn’t called out of work but also didn’t show up. My anxiety grew even more, hearing that.

Working with a clear head was impossible, so I took off early and decided to go to Jamie’s house. She lived only twenty minutes away in a small home partially paid for by her parents, who demanded that she live in comfort and not some stuffy apartment. When I turned the corner to her street, I was greeted with police tape blocking my way. 

I leaned in closer and saw multiple police officers by a car; it was Jamie’s car. It was partially pulled out of the driveway haphazardly parked on the sidewalk and road. I got out and called out, “Hey, what’s going on?” the panic in my voice must have been evident cause an officer rushed over.

“Nothing you need to concern yourself with, ma’am. Just police duties, please take another street, for now, to continue.” I shook my head, annoyed by being dismissed so quickly “no, I need to know what’s going on. My friend lives on this street, and it looks like your investigating her car. Is she in trouble?” The police officer suddenly had a severe look “what is your friend’s name?” A sudden uneasy feeling welled up inside me.

“Jamie,” I hesitantly said, hugging my body now as I felt my heartbeat quicken. The police officer gave a remorseful look. “I am sorry, ma’am, but Jamie hare is dead.” Time felt like it stopped as my breath began to quicken “w-wait, thats wrong, she can’t be dead.” 

The officer seemed accustomed to occurrences like this and stepped under the tape to stand in front of me. I felt like my world was falling as the officer began to try to calm me down as I continued to deny the claim. She couldn’t be dead. She was my best friend. I needed her. My denial didn’t change the fact, though, as I was forced to leave eventually, but I was told to come into the station to help the investigation. On the way home, I felt fuzzy, like I couldn’t think as the shock still held onto me.

I held onto the hope that this was some kind of mistake even when I got home. My reality was crushed, though, when I was shown the dead body in the morgue to identify the victim as they put it. It was Jamie. She was dead; I couldn’t recall anything but crying for nearly an hour after that when they sent me home.

They said that she was killed while in her car, I couldn’t know more than that. I felt numb as I tried to sleep and pretend nothing happened for my own sanity’s sake. The next day I had to go to work, but I couldn’t bring myself even to leave my bed. I half expected an angry call from my boss to reprimand me for not calling out before. However, no such call came; I was forced to get up when my stomach growled, begging for food. It was the afternoon by now, and I still felt numb; it all still felt impossible. 

I began to call Jamie’s phone, but now it went straight to voice mail; I didn’t realize I was crying until it was too late, and I couldn’t stop myself. I think a couple of days passed cause I was broken out of my daze, hearing a loud and persistent ring from my phone. I picked it up, not bothering to check the caller ID, and listened to my boss’s voice.

“Mandy, I have tried to reach out to you via email and text and calls for days. What happened? Why haven’t you replied.”

I couldn’t muster enough energy even to talk properly as I spoke in a low, dull voice, “she was killed.” Silence was what I expected, realizing what I just said. However, my boss replied with no hesitation.

“Well, maybe it’s a good thing our department got shut down then.” Time froze again as I attempted to process what I was just told.

“I figured you would be surprised, unfortunately, there are no free positions in the other departments, so I am afraid I have to tell you. You have been layed off.” I didn’t respond; I couldn’t respond. My best friend was dead, and what seemed immediately after that, I lost my job.

“The severance pay and other information are in an email I sent you. I wish you luck in your future endeavors, Mandy. And sorry about Jamie.” The phone clicked, indicating the end of the call. He didn’t sound sorry at all. I screamed and threw my phone against the wall as I felt my chest get tighter and the familiar tears trailing down my cheeks. I didn’t care if my neighbors were worried I just wanted to have Jamie and my job back.

I didn’t feel numb anymore. I was angry and remorseful as I was crouched over on the floor and screaming as I cried with my head in my hands. I don’t recall what happened after that, but I woke up to a bright light making me shield my eyes. Or tried to, but I found my wrist stopped as painful pressure was felt the more I wanted to lift it. I turned and saw that both my hands were cuffed to the side of a bed.