Her Second Purpose

The air was thick with Amy’s irritation that morning, a suffocating anger that rolled through the room like smoke. She dropped a cup of coffee on the kitchen table in front of her husband, ignoring the clatter it made against the wood. He smiled, seemingly oblivious to her exasperation, and thanked her as she walked away. But she found his words tainted with insincerity and refused to meet his eyes when she gave a mumbled “you’re welcome” in reply. As she stood by the sink cleaning the dishes, she tried to quench the fire burning inside her. She scrubbed each plate roughly and tossed it into the washer a little more forcefully than she intended.

           She caught sight of her reflection in the microwave. Her hair was out of control, curling and frizzing in every direction. Even the messy bun couldn’t keep the stray pieces from finding their way out. It unnerved her. She couldn’t even get her hair to stay in order, let alone the rest of her life. Unmistakable were her puffy cheeks, the first sign of wrinkles starting to appear beneath her eyes. She thought about her college days, when she lived in the luxury of youth she swore would never end. Turns out she wouldn’t be “forever young” after all.

           She closed the dishwasher and turned the knob to Wash Cycle. The machine roared to life, dispersing the contents of the Tide pod she had placed inside. She went to work on a large pan, pouring a handful of Dawn on a brush and scrubbing at the dried food. Out of the corner of her eye, she peered at Leon, sipping his coffee and casually skimming through the morning paper.

           Noticing her stares, he cleared his throat. “So are you going to the coffee house this morning?” He studied her over his glasses, the newspaper held up like a shield. Amy frowned and returned her gaze to the pan. She knew exactly what he was doing. The coffee shop was where she went most mornings to write, a fact he knew well. What he was really trying to say was, “Are you actually going to keep working on your crazy pipe dream?”

           She resisted returning fire, taking a breath to calm herself. “Actually, I’m going to brunch with a friend this morning.”

           “Who with?” He was now hidden behind the paper entirely.

           “Just a friend.” Seeming to forget the subject all together, Leon didn’t respond, fixated on the sports section and results from last night’s Lakers game. She dried off the pan and placed it in the cupboard, reaching now for the dish towels that needed folding. Before long, Leon’s voice reached her again.

           “You know, there are a lot of interesting job openings listed in the newspaper today.” He laid the paper out before him, looking straight at her this time.  “There’s one for a newspaper columnist and even a magazine editor.” His tone sounded encouraging, but she couldn’t be fooled.

           “Leon, I already have a job, and I’m not looking for a different one.” She tried to keep her voice steady, focusing her eyes on the towel in her hands.

           “Come on, Amy.” His patience was wearing thin. She knew he was rolling his eyes at her. “You have to start being realistic. It’s time to think about the future. Our future.”

           Amy threw the cloth on the floor. “Leon! I don’t want to talk about this right now.” The room rang with her exclamation. They were both still for a moment before Leon turned his attention back to the paper and Amy picked up the towel she had dropped. The room stayed silent after that. Leon finished the last of his coffee and went to the sink to wash out his mug. He started to pack his things, putting on his coat and folding up the newspaper.

           He walked into the kitchen and waited for Amy to look at him. “Can you just promise me you’ll look at this?” He was holding the paper out, willing her to take it.

           She sighed and snatched it from his hand. “Fine.” Even though they’d been married for eight years, it was still hard for her to say no to him.

He checked the time on his phone. “I’ve got to go or I’ll be stuck in traffic.” He leaned over to kiss her on the cheek before walking out the door. She listened as the car was powered on and the buzz of the engine faded away.

           Resting her weight on the kitchen counter, her hand brushed against the folded paper. After some contemplation, she picked it up. He hadn’t been lying. There was an opening for a magazine editor. And with her education, she was surely qualified for a position like that. Maybe it was something to think about. Suddenly aware of her own thoughts, she became disgusted with herself. What was she doing? She was a creative writer. A fiction writer. She threw the newspaper back down on the counter and walked away.

           She checked the time. There were still 20 minutes until her reservation at the restaurant, but she knew she would have to walk to make it on time. No point getting stuck in morning rush hour if she could make it there quicker on foot. She slipped on her coat and walked out the door.

           Strolling down the sidewalk, Amy thought about her conversation with Leon. How he told her she needed to think about their future. It had been a point of contention for them for years, but recently, it filled the house with tension. Last night, the two finally had the argument that had been lingering around the house for months.

           “Amy, I think we should start to talk seriously about our plans.” They were both getting ready for bed, Leon brushing his teeth and Amy applying face lotion. He had brought up the topic seemingly out of the blue.

           She stared at him, confused. “Our plans?”

           Leon rolled his eyes. “Yes. Our plans. I mean, neither of us are getting any younger, and honestly, I don’t know what we’re waiting for anymore.” Amy knew exactly what he was talking about, but she stayed quiet, her hands starting to shake. “Amy, I want to have a baby.”

           And there it was. The subject of the disagreement that had haunted them since they got married. Leon had always been determined to follow the conventional life plan: start a career, get married, have children. But Amy told him from the start that she wanted more, that before her life was taken over by a baby, she wanted to achieve what she had set out to do since she was a girl: to write and publish a novel.

           She’d been defying the odds ever since high school, attending a college with a prestigious English program, getting accepted to graduate school to get her master’s degree in creative writing, and even graduating with honors. Since then, she had been tirelessly working on her manuscripts with no luck. Although she had sold a few short stories here and there, no publisher would buy her longer works, writings she had labored over for years. Each time she thought she had broken through, she came up short. After her most recent rejection, she had started to lose hope, but her dream stuck in her mind, forbidding her from giving up.

           She reminded Leon of this, but he lost his temper, tossing his toothbrush on the bathroom counter. “You’ve been trying to get published for 10 years! You keep saying this book is the one, but then it isn’t, and I have to wait another three years for you to write another one.”

           Amy stared at him with her mouth agape. “I’ve been doing my best! You know how hard I’ve worked on my manuscripts!”

           “Well, maybe your best isn’t good enough!” As soon as he spoke, he bit his lip, the words like a blade slipping out of his hands.

           Amy was speechless. The pain in her eyes turned to tears that she tried and failed to hold in.

           “You’ve been at this for so long.” His voice was softer as he tried to regain control. “We can’t hold off this family forever. It’s time to start thinking about what’s best for us.” She said nothing, only staring at him with an ache in her stomach. “Maybe…” He hesitated. “Maybe you weren’t meant to be an author after all.”

Amy threw her lotion down on the table and stormed off, unable to listen to another word. He had been her biggest supporter, her only one left, and he had finally given up on her too.

           She had been firmly opposed then, unwilling to even consider his point. But now she thought about the job listings he had found in the paper. She knew he wouldn’t mind her being a stay-at-home mom, but she would always want more, something that would drive her. Getting a nine-to-five job would replace her writing devotion, preoccupy her restless mind, and open up new possibilities for her family. Maybe she was being selfish. She was putting Leon’s wishes aside so she could follow her own dreams, ones she had to admit were starting to look uncertain. Although writing had been her passion her entire life, was it all worth it? Maybe her time was up. Maybe it was time to move on.

           Before she knew it, Amy had arrived at the restaurant, her thoughts distracting her from her walk. She entered and was immediately captivated by the shiny décor. It was a cute little café with a glass chandelier covering the ceiling, a silver carpet lying beneath each table, and pink and white tablecloths scattered around the room. The waiter seated her immediately at a table for two beside a circular window, letting in the morning sun and making the seats glow. The menu used a fancy, cursive font that made the entrées almost impossible to read. Amy picked it up and held it close to her face, trying to decipher what seemed like hieroglyphics. Straining her eyes, she dropped the menu in front of her and was surprised to see a woman sitting in the seat across from her.

           “Alex! You made it!” Her eyes brightened, the familiar face subduing her worries.

           “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Alex’s voice was calm, a harmony bringing music to her ears.

           “You look great!” Amy looked in wonder at Alex’s features: perfectly clear skin, devoid of any wrinkles; thick curly hair falling down her back; and green eyes that perfectly matched her own.

           Alex grinned. “Well, it helps when you don’t age anymore.”

           “Oh, of course.” Amy chuckled awkwardly, her cheeks going pink before she regained her composure. “So how’s it going?”

           Alex sighed. “You know, I can’t complain. Life in Paradise with the Big Man. It’s all nice flying around everywhere playing the harp, but to be honest, I sometimes miss all the excitement on Earth, like car chases and hockey fights.”

           Amy laughed, shaking her head. That was her sister, alright. Hungry for more even in the kingdom of Heaven. She should have known such a peaceful life would never satisfy her.

Alex rested her elbows on the table, holding her head in her hands. “So what’s going on?”

           Amy sighed. “Is it that obvious?” She stared, transfixed on her sister. The outline of her body seemed to be glistening, and Amy wasn’t sure if it was from the bright chandelier or her celestial glow.

           Alex tilted her head. “Well, I am always watching over you.”

           Amy rolled her eyes before taking a deep breath. “I think maybe I should give up writing.” She cringed, waiting for her sister to protest, but instead, Alex stayed calm.

           “Why’s that?” Her full attention was on Amy, her eyes warm and kind.

           And then Amy told her sister everything. How she’s been struggling to publish her writings, how her husband is impatient for a baby, how it seems like no one believes in her anymore. “Maybe I haven’t been realistic. Maybe I was never meant to be a writer, like Leon said. What do you think? Is it time for me to put this dream away and focus on my family?”

           Alex was quiet for a second, her face thoughtful but comforting. “Amy, do you remember when you were in high school and you told me you wanted to quit writing?”

           Amy nodded. She had been in her bedroom, weeping into her pillow. All of her stories were being rejected everywhere she sent them. Not even the school journal would take her work, her teacher saying they “just weren’t right for them”.

“And do you remember what I told you?” Alex had found her and was quick to comfort her, sitting beside her on the bed and wiping away her tears.

“You told me that giving up would mean throwing away everything I’d worked for.”

“And.” Alex’s eyes were piercing, the power of her words penetrating her soul. “I told you that quitting would hurt more than the rejection. That it would stab at you for the rest of your life.”

Amy lost herself in the memory. Alex’s pep talk had been vital when she was at her lowest. Her sister had stood up from the bed and walked over to Amy’s desk, pulling out a sheet of paper and a pencil. She had told her to write down the reasons she wrote, what her dreams were and why she wanted to accomplish them. In bolded letters, she wrote that she wanted to be a bestselling author and prove everyone wrong. Alex had told her to always keep the paper, to look at it when she felt discouraged and remember her purpose. A few years later, when the cancer was starting to take more out of her sister than she thought possible, Amy had added another reason, writing it directly beneath the first: for Alex.

Suddenly, Alex pulled out the paper from under the table, seemingly out of thin air. Amy had lost the paper years before but recognized it in a heartbeat. She took it, looking at the words she had scrawled so long ago. At the bottom was her second purpose, underlined and smudged by her fingertips. Tears filled Amy’s eyes. She and Alex had had so many adventures together, ones she turned into stories for her everyone to read. Alex had read each one, giving her helpful feedback and telling her how talented she was. Even when she had to stay in the hospital, she had asked for Amy’s stories, and when she was too sick to read, Amy would read them to her.

It had torn Amy apart to leave her sister when she started college. She wanted to wait or go to the community college down the street. But Alex refused. She would not allow her to put her talents to waste, and she pushed her to go somewhere she could grow and bloom. Even while she was gone, Amy would send her stories back for Alex to read, always getting a note or call in return. And it was a bittersweet moment when she was accepted into an advanced creative writing program, one of the best in the country, just a few months after Alex died. She would have done anything to have her sister there, by her side like she had always been. Her success then and always was attributed to Alex, the one who believed in her from the beginning.

Alex reached across the table to wipe a tear from Amy’s cheek. “Tell me honestly, Amy. What is your dream? Right now?”

Amy sniffled and wiped her eyes with her sleeve. “I want to write.” It was true. She could feel it in her heart. When she started dedicating her works to Alex, writing became something different. It was how she connected to her sister even when she was gone. It was how she kept her alive, her spirit living on in Amy’s stories. It was, even today, what drove her to write, doing what she loved as Alex would’ve wanted.

Alex lifted Amy’s chin with her hand, focusing her gaze on her own. “Then do it. Go for it. You will never be happy knowing you gave up on your passion. Eventually, you will break through. I know you will.”

“But what about Leon? He wants a baby, and he doesn’t believe in me anymore.” Amy stared into Alex’s sparkling eyes, willing them to provide a solution.

“Go prove him wrong.” The corner of her mouth rose in a side smile. “There will be time for all of that, I promise you. But it’s right here, right now, that you will never get back. You have to control your own destiny, Amy.”

Amy understood. She loved Leon and wanted him to be happy, but she would never forgive herself if she gave up. She had made a promise to herself not to quit until she succeeded, but in her heart, it was a promise to Alex, one she could never break.

She looked back down at the paper, the words of her childhood dreams burning back onto her heart. She closed her eyes and smiled. She was refilled with her passion, her destiny yet again lying before her.

“Thank you.” She reached out across the table to take her sister’s hand. But when she looked up, Alex was gone. The chair was empty, and her sister and the paper had disappeared. She knew Alex had said everything she needed to say and that it was time for Amy to go.

On her way home, she reached back to check for what she knew was already there: the paper tucked snugly in her back pocket.