A Brave Start Read online

  When Cassie returned home that evening she found Eleanor once again hunkered down in her room watching another romantic movie. Cassie knocked on the open door to get her attention.

  Eleanor glanced up briefly giving a weak “Hi Mom.”

  “Did everything work out at school? Cassie asked, worried that maybe Eleanor hadn’t left the house after all.

  “Yes, the film worked and I got the papers graded. Thanks for the suggestion.” She replied as she continued watching her TV screen.

  “Ellie, sweetheart, this can’t be helping you,” Cassie said with a worried look.

  Not looking away from the screen, “My love life might be in shambles, but at least these movies don’t disappoint. Colonel Brandon will always end up with Marianne, Elizabeth will always have Darcy, Jane will always find her way back to Rochester, and Wentworth will always forgive Anne. Trust me Mom. They help. They may be fiction but they give me hope.”

  Smiling thoughtfully, she grudgingly remarked, “Alright. If you say so. But how about you shut that off for now and come downstairs. I’ll help you put together your lesson plans for the last few classes of the semester so you won’t have to think about them later.”

  Sighing, Eleanor turned off the film and did as her mother suggested. They spent the rest of the evening putting together the lesson plans for her classes. With her mom’s help, Eleanor felt like she’d at least get through the teaching and grading left for the rest of the semester. She couldn’t wait for summer break to start even more now. She’d still have to work, but a break in the routine sounded good right now as she fought, for the millionth time since Friday, to push thoughts of Michael aside. It was just her luck that all of this was happening while both her best girlfriends Grace and Carly were both out of town. She needed all the friends and support she could get right now. Being able to vent and let out her thoughts with her friends would have helped, she thought. Although she knew her mom understood and supported her, friends were just easier to vent to.

  * * * * *

  The rest of the week went by in a haze. Eleanor only went to school and when she wasn’t there she would be home, lying in bed, watching movies and trying to avoid thinking about anything. Some days she missed Michael so much she thought her heart would burst, others she just felt completely numb. Saturday came and she had to go to work at the bookstore.

  While shelving some new books she couldn’t help thinking about the current state of her life. Just as she was placing new books on the shelf, she paused, realizing she also needed something new. She knew something needed to change. She couldn’t keep going on like this. She’d avoided making decisions for so long because of the life she thought she’d have with Michael. The tears burned as sadness and anger collided as she thought about how foolish she’d been, putting her own career on the side while just waiting for Michael to decide he wanted her. But she didn’t know what to do. The thought of doing a PhD just felt too daunting. She wanted to write, but even a three year MFA Creative Writing program felt like too much to attempt and what if she still couldn’t find a job? But something had to change. What?

  Returning home that evening, feeling exhausted both physically and mentally, she sat down at the kitchen breakfast bar and watched her mother finish cooking dinner. They shared the space for a while, in a comfortable silence. Eleanor could tell that Cassie was giving her some space to think, sensing that Cassie was waiting for Eleanor to begin.

  Finally Eleanor spoke. “I need a change. I can’t keep living my life as it is right now.”

  “What do you mean darling?” Cassie asked with concern. She’d known this was coming, she’d hoped that the breakup might finally prompt Eleanor to finally take some control over her life. Cassie loved and supported her daughter, who’d been through so much over the years, but she agreed that Eleanor needed a change. She sipped her coffee, bit her tongue, and held her breath, waiting for Eleanor to continue.

  “I mean, I’m not happy. I haven’t been for a while. What happened with Michael is disappointing but I’ve realized it’s not the only thing making me feel so miserable. I don’t know what I’m doing with my life. I love teaching but I wanted to be more than just an adjunct instructor, working for low pay and no benefits who has to work retail part time to earn extra money and still doesn’t earn enough to support herself!” Her voice rose with her frustration.

  Cassie cheered inwardly at her daughter’s words. She knew this had been bothering Eleanor for a while but every time Cassie tried to make a suggestion for a change Eleanor shot it down, partially due to her relationship with Michael.

  Slowly and cautiously Cassie spoke, “Eleanor I think you need to be honest with yourself and figure out what it is that you really want to do with your life. If it’s teaching, you need to go back to school. If it’s writing, you need to focus on that and look into creative writing programs or workshops if you don’t want to go back for another degree. What do you want to do Ellie?”

  Hesitating, afraid to voice her wants and desires out loud, Eleanor finally said, in a small voice, “I want to write. I mean, I could also teach writing one day, but yeah . . . I want to write.”

  “Eleanor, do you really want to teach writing one day?” Cassie said, raising an eyebrow.

  “Oh mom,” Eleanor said quietly but with an exhausted frustration in her voice. “I honestly don’t know what I want to do. I know what I should do. I should get a job that pays a living wage. I should probably go back to grad school in order to get that job. I should spend less time with my head in the clouds writing stories that only I will read—”

  Cassie cut off her daughter’s melodramatic tirade, “Eleanor, stop. You shouldn’t do any of those things unless you really want to. You don’t have to get a PhD and become a professor just because that’s what your dad and I did. And you absolutely don’t have to give up writing. But if you want to be a writer you need to share the material you are writing. Stop thinking about what you should do. What do you want to do?”

  Eleanor rolled her eyes, “It’s not that simple mom.”

  “Yes, it is Eleanor. It really is that simple. When I was your age I knew I wanted to work in higher education, as a professor and also as an administrator one day. I knew I wanted to marry your father and have you. And while things with your dad didn’t work out, I have you and you are everything I have ever wanted. Now I just want you to be happy Eleanor. So stop trying to please everybody but yourself. What do you want to do?”

  Eleanor paused and thought about it. Her mother rarely asked her such direct questions. But the more she thought about it, the more impossible her answer seemed.

  “I…I want to write mom. I want to be a writer. And if that means I keep teaching as an adjunct instructor and working in the bookshop until something happens, then I guess that’s what I’ll do.” Saying it out loud still didn’t make Eleanor feel like it was the right answer. She still didn’t feel like a big decision had been made.

  “Then write Eleanor. You’re good at it. But you’re not going to get anywhere if all you do is write in coffee shops and don’t let anyone see it or try to get it in front of an agent or go the self-publishing route. Teaching and working part time in the bookshop are not your only choices for work while you write. You have options, you can make it work if you want it bad enough.”

  “I guess,” Eleanor said with a frown.

  Cassie took a deep breath about to speak and then stopped. Eleanor looked up at her mother curiously.

  “What?” She prompted her mom.

  “I spoke with your Aunt Victoria today.”

  “You talked to Aunt Vickie? When?” Eleanor asked, trying to follow this sudden change of direction in the conversation. She thought her mom was going to continue with advice not talk about her favorite, okay, only Aunt, she smiled thinking of her Aunt Vickie.

  “While you were at the bookshop,” Cassie said, trying to sound casual.

  “Oh really? What did she have to say?”

  Cassie
paused.

  “Mom? What did Aunt Vickie say? Is she alright?”

  “Oh yes, darling, she’s fine. But she told me something interesting and I think I should share it with you. She told me partly so I could pass the information along to my students because there’s an undergraduate level opportunity, but I also told her about you—“

  Eleanor interrupted, “Mom, what are you talking about?”

  Cassie walked to the den to the side of the kitchen and brought back a stack of computer printouts and handed them to Eleanor. Eleanor stared at them trying to process what she was looking at.

  London

  Creative Writing Intensive MFA

  One Year Program

  “Get your work seen by top UK literary agents!”

  The words stared back at her from the various pages. Looking back up at her mom Eleanor asked quietly, “What is all this?”

  “Your aunt was telling me about it today. We both agreed it might be good for you.” Seeing her daughter still looked confused Cassie took another deep breath and explained, “It’s a one year, intensive MFA program in creative writing. It would be a terminal degree that could help you get a full-time teaching position somewhere. But its publishing rates of former students is impressive, as are its placement rates in publishing and related industry jobs. The program is renowned and your aunt and I think it might be a good fit for you. It wouldn’t be like going back to grad school at a U.S. university, but it would still help you professionally both as a teacher and as a writer.

  “They offer it every year as a twelve-month program. They don’t follow the usual academic calendar in the UK, so you’d start this August and be done by the end of next July. They have short workshops that focus on creative writing, editing, getting an agent, working in publishing, and so on, and Aunt Victoria knows some people on the admissions panel and is willing to put in a good word for you. There’s no guarantee that you’ll get in, but with your CV, your teaching background, your portfolio, and your connections we think you stand a really good chance.”

  Still staring at the computer printouts Eleanor suddenly noticed the price tag of this intriguing program, “How on earth would I afford it? I mean, not just the program, which is expensive enough but to move there for the year, to live, where would I stay, how would I afford rent?!”

  Taking a deep breath, Cassie replied, “Your aunt already owns a flat in central London for your cousin Jonathan, while he’s studying at London School of Economics. It’s a two bedroom but his current flatmate is about to graduate and move out. Victoria says you can stay there for free as her contribution to our plan. As for the rest, I have some money saved up, I can cover the tuition and you can pay me back as and when you’re able. Victoria said with a student visa you’d be able to get a part time job, which should help you cover your food, transit, and other daily expenses.”

  “Mom, I can’t take your savings! Not to go live in London for a year! This is my mess. You and Aunt Vickie shouldn’t be paying to get me out of it.”

  Putting her hand over her daughters, and looking in her eyes, “Honey, you’ve been miserable for ages. Your aunt, cousin Jonathan, we’ve all noticed. Part of the money I’ve saved up was specifically for something like this. I’d hoped you’d eventually find something you’d want to do and I didn’t want you held back because of money. I can afford this sweetie, and I want to do it, for you. And don’t worry, it’s not my retirement savings or investments, it’s totally separate from that,” Cassie said with a smile before continuing with a wink, “But when you’re a famous writer living in London, you can buy a place for both of us when I retire.”

  Eleanor paused for a moment. The fact that her mom and her aunt had been talking about this, had been worried about her meant a lot. Other thoughts flooded the heartache from her brain and as she thought about the possibilities a new excitement filled her. This program; what it could mean for her future. The idea of moving to London. Finally, she began to speak slowly, “I hardly know what to think. It’s all so sudden. London? My London? And creative writing? As much as I want to be a writer is that really the responsible thing to do?”

  “Eleanor, I’m sorry, but screw being responsible. You’ve been doing the responsible thing for your whole life, and I’m very proud of you. I’m tired of seeing you so miserable. You used to like teaching but now it seems like it’s just something you do. You can’t be an adjunct for the rest of your life. Number one it doesn’t work financially. Number two, it will slowly kill your soul to not be treated with the academic respect you deserve. You’ve worked too hard up to now to settle for being part-time and not earn the salary you deserve. A program like this will at least help give you the extra bonus to your CV to make you stand out when applying for teaching positions. And if you do well, you probably won’t even need to return to teaching! You could go into publishing, be an editor. Or you could be a writer full time, and finally get paid to do it!”

  “You really think I should do this?”

  “Ellie, you have been wanting to write and desperate to live in London. This is your chance to do that, even if only for a year. Things have ended with Michael, the semester is almost over, and you have nothing really to tie you down in Phoenix.” She held up her hand as Eleanor started to object. “OK, other than me.”

  She laughed knowing her daughter was going to miss being with her and she would miss her. “But we can keep in touch through our messaging apps. So, yes, I think you should do this. You need a new start. London would be perfect.”

  Eleanor slowly began to smile and when she finally looked up and into her mother’s eyes Eleanor’s whole face had lit up. Cassie immediately said a silent prayer of thanks, it was the happiest she’d seen Eleanor in months, if not more than a year.

  They spent the rest of the evening excitedly working out the details and filling out the online application, with Eleanor carefully choosing the few short pieces to submit as her writing samples. The more she thought about it the more desperately she began to hope that she would be accepted.

  The next few weeks seemed to drag on. Eleanor went to work at the school and the bookshop and checked her email and mailbox incessantly, waiting for confirmation that she’d been either rejected or accepted. It seemed like she would have to wait forever.

  The semester came to an end and summer began. Eleanor began to lose hope and Cassie watched as Eleanor grew despondent at the thought of beginning another year of teaching as an adjunct.

  Finally, while sitting in her favorite spot at the coffee shop after a day of working at the bookstore, Eleanor’s iPhone alerted her that a new email had arrived. Opening up the email Eleanor could only stare in dumbfounded silence as her brain slowly processed the words that seemed to jump off the small screen.

  “We are very pleased to extend an offer of acceptance to this year’s 12-month intensive Creative Writing program...”

  Eleanor didn’t even realize she had begun to cry until a tear fell from her cheek and splashed off the screen of her phone. The tears began to fall more freely as Eleanor felt relief and excitement spread throughout her entire body.

  * * * * *

  Eleanor came down the stairs to the kitchen, wearing a simple sundress and flats, and looked around at all the people currently filling her house. Her mother had invited just about everyone they knew, friends, neighbors, colleagues at work. Everyone had arrived to say goodbye to Eleanor before she left the next day. The last several weeks had been a blur of activity as she gave her notice at the bookstore and the community college and began sorting out what she would take with her to London and getting her student visa in order, thankfully the school helped handle a lot of that. Back upstairs her room was packed with two suitcases, two carry-on bags, and two boxes that she and her mom would drop off at the post office the next day on their way to the airport. They had already shipped two boxes of stuff Eleanor would need when she arrived.

  Eleanor made her way around the kitchen and family room, saying hell
o to friends, accepting their good wishes and listening to their recommendations of places to visit and things to do. Eleanor had agreed to the farewell party and she knew her mother just wanted to make a big fuss and share her excitement with their friends and family, but with Eleanor’s departure now less than 24 hours way all Eleanor wanted to do was spend one last quiet evening at home. Still, Eleanor headed out to the back patio and spent the next few hours chatting excitedly with Grace and Carly, and enjoyed the time she had left with them.

  The next morning came early. Though Eleanor’s flight wasn’t until later that evening she couldn’t sleep, she was so excited. Jumping out of bed she quickly changed into some sweatpants and a t-shirt and grabbed her hydration pack, heading out for a short hike. If she was going to spend all night on an airplane she thought stretching her legs this morning would be a good idea. It was only 8 o’clock in the morning but it was already over 100°.

  When she got home she quickly got ready and spent the rest of the afternoon sitting on the couch and chatting with her mom. When the time came they loaded everything into Cassie’s car and swung by the post office to mail the two boxes of items Eleanor would need over the next year. They continued the drive to the airport chatting casually and talking about London. When they arrived, Cassie parked in the garage and walked Eleanor all the way to the security check point. At last they couldn’t delay the goodbye any longer.

  “You take care of yourself. Watch out for strangers and don’t forget to look right instead of left first when you cross the street.”

  “Yes, Mom” Eleanor replied giggling. “Didn’t you tell me they have which way to look printed on the pavement?”

  “Yes, they do, and don’t laugh,” Cassie said with a slight frown. “Now that it’s time to let you go I can’t help but worry. London’s a long way away.”