Page 49 of Last Letters to Ara
“Yes, Dad. I’m dressed.”
“Okay, good.” He lets out a breath. “I wanted to show you something.”
He makes his way into my room, holding two rectangular passes in his hand.
“I know that you’ve had a difficult year, and you’re a bit worried about the future.” I’m quiet because he’s right, and I don’t need to tell him so. “I took the day off work so we could go check this out. It’s the last day, and I thought it might be a good way to get your mind off things.”
He hands me the passes, which are two entry tickets to a massive fashion expo here in Tampa. It’s being held at the fairgrounds and will have all kinds of things to check out. I’d actually seen a flier for it but never thought I’d get to go.
“What about school?”
Dad looks at me a bit mischievously. “Surely your throat feels a tad dry?”
This makes me smile. “I’ll get dressed.”
“I’ll make breakfast.”
The fashion expo is more amazing than I could have ever imagined.
There are textiles everywhere, of all different patterns and thickness. People have little shops set up to feature their own designs and crafts. Everywhere I turn, there is something beautiful to investigate.
Dad is mostly quiet, but I think he’s just happy to see me smiling and interested in something again.
Before long, I find this one booth that renders me speechless. Each material is something out of a fairytale, and each one is covered in different sorts of glitter. Some are two-toned sparkles, changing color in the light. Some are a beautiful sheer material, with only a hint of shimmer. Some are covered in crystals.
Then I see it.
A beautiful silver tulle, so glittery that it looks like it’s made of diamonds.
I can only imagine the kind of dress I could make with that.
Dad offers to buy it for me, but I only take a little bit at first, not wanting to waste something so beautiful, but by the time I’ve made my second round of the expo, I know exactly what I’d use it for.
Dad buys me the entire roll.
Present - Ara
IT’S CHILLY FORa March morning in Florida. I wish I could say I’ve made any sort of progress on my state of unemployment, but besides becoming a Starbucks regular with my new friend Lou, I’ve accomplished nothing, and I feel even further away from knowing what I’m going to do with my life.
Every morning I wake up, grab my laptop and go to the Starbucks down the street, spending the first half of the day searching and applying for jobs online.
My new ritual has two purposes.
The first is obvious: I need a job. I’ve only allocated enough funds from my savings to support myself for two weeks until I find another job. The second reason behind it is that I’m still trying to figure out what I want to do long term and I’m hoping that some listing will jump out at me, slap me in the face, and I’ll have found my calling.
So far, both searches have been fruitless.
For the second half of my day, I spend it on the Internet researching all different kinds of careers. I’ve been learning that doing anything creative is risky, and never has a guaranteed paycheck, which is thereforenotan option. I’ve also learned that I have absolutely no interest in careers whichdohave guaranteed paychecks. More often than not, I’m missing the qualifications required for those anyway.
What did I expect to happen after dropping out of college? Did I think I was just going to trip and fall into a six-figure salary? Obviously not. I just wanted to find something I didn’t hate, but that something is seeming less and less possible.
Admittedly, it’s been nice to have time to bond with Lou. We grab coffee pretty much every morning where I listen to her complain about Karen, whom she agrees is the literal devil, and she listens to me complain about not being able to find a single job that I would remotely enjoy. Then we drown our sorrows in caramel macchiatos and sweets.
I told her this morning that I would have to skip our Starbucks run, knowing another one of Dad’s letters is due any day now. I’m pleading with the universe and Dad, wherever he is, that there will be something inside this letter to steer me in the right direction.
There’s finally a knock on my door and I exhale with relief. Grabbing the donuts I bought for Dave, I open my door and he’s as smiley as ever. I hold out the donuts in offering, making him light up even more, and I can’t help but grin in answer.
Old people have always put me at ease. Somehow, I get the idea that they have seen so much of life, that even if I manage to royally embarrass myself, they’ve already seen it before. Plus, who would they tell? You don’t see any of them uploading embarrassing content to their social media accounts. It keeps the usual fears which stop me from interacting at bay, and I find myself enjoying their company and doing nice things for them.
