Chapter One

A Reinvented Life

I can hardly hear myself think once the train roars off, speeding me toward the center of the city. I figure the racket is a blessing and thus, I zone out with the turbulent sound of the chugging, grinding, screeching wheels beneath me. I am curiously comforted. Perhaps it’s the gentle motion of the train car, the deep hum, and the vibration that rides inside my belly, warming it, that makes the trip inside this very ordinary railcar pleasant. The experience punctuates the beginning of my day—and the end, a sensuous redundancy that settles a host of anxious fears, which would otherwise rise up and clobber any composure I attempt to maintain. Everything in my life is so strangely new—from the wide-open fields of the Midwest to this grand city, with its hodgepodge of bungling architecture splashed across its cityscape. The language indigenous to this region, the smell of the streets, the lazy pace compared to the East Coast frenzy…I could go on with my observations, from things that matter to minute details that awaken me with surprise.

I love it all.

It’s new; nothing like the world I left to come here, with its airs and mannerisms, which for me was so filled with pitfalls and booby-traps that I stumbled over my own feet with every choice I made.

I landed a job with Riordan& McCall, Designers, two months ago and swept into my new world on a magic carpet ride of excitement. Those days were a wildly wonderful whir of enticements; temptations and spine-tingling thrills that kept me dazed for nearly two weeks. I suppose it’s a very good thing that my life has now settled down to a more reasonable pace.

My routine is set. I understand my job and do it well. I have a quaint but very functional apartment north of the city. I even have a few budding friendships and causal dinner dates that keep me from turning into a social outcast, as leery as I am of developing any close connections—just yet. All things considered, my ducks have lined up in perfect order and are moving me swimmingly into an easy, blissful sameness.

Not that I’m bored. Far from it. The job alone would keep me entertained without any further additions. And the city could keep my weekends occupied for months, shopping, sightseeing, dining in strange restaurants. Because of that fact, because the city will always be available to me, I often choose to stay home and relax on my days off curling up in my reading chair with some scintillating novel—so screams the vibrant book jacket in embossed gold lettering. After an excruciating beginning to adulthood, this is nirvana. I suppose all that I could ask for.

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