Chapter 1
"...and that's why we'd like you to help lead this company project, Zarya," a fifty-something year-old man beamed at the thirty-five year old woman. She was stunned. Zarya had only been with the company for three years, but her boss was now asking her to help train some fresh faces at a competitive store that was being bought out by their own chain. She always put her heart into her work, but never imagined she would be leading a project this big--especially in just a couple years. But, the shift leader had proven her dedication and team work, so she had been recommended by her superiors to travel a couple hours away to a small store to help the manager there.
"I'm--honored," she carefully said, still in shock, but wanting to appear polite and grateful for the opportunity.
"So you'll do it? Great! I'll send you all the details to your e-mail, so you know where to go..." her boss, Randy, trailed off as her mind began to race. Would she fuck this up somehow? What would the people think of a competitor coming in and taking over their way of life?
She snapped to as Randy patted her arm and congratulated her. "I'm really proud of you!" While she didn't normally like being touched by others, her boss was an exception. He been a bit of a mentor to her as she climbed the corporate ladder, and he felt a bit like the fun uncle that made her feel comfortable, regardless of how stressful their work situations could become. Because she had spaced out, however, it still caught her off-guard. She smiled sheepishly and her pale cheeks filled with color.
"Thanks, Randy. I couldn't've done it without you, you know" she said quietly.
"Oh, now's not the time to be modest! Plus, you can always thank me later," he said with a wink and a chuckle.
Randy's laugh was infectious, and Zarya quickly found herself giggling along with him. Their conversation was cut short, however, when their assistant manager knocked on and cracked the office door to get the store manager's attention about an urgent matter.
"Well, duty calls! Like I said, I'll e-mail you the details, and of course you may reply there with any questions you have about it," he said as he rose and headed to the door. The office was merely a singularly shared space between managers and shift leaders, away from the public eye, so it was assumed Zarya would see herself out when she was ready to leave.
"Yes, I will," she smiled as the managers left the room together. It was unusual to have a shift leader help train this many new people at a time--normally it was an assistant manager's job, but the store Zarya would be helping was so small that the company didn't want to sacrifice any more money than necessary. Plus, this would be a good opportunity to establish loyalty at a more peer-friendly level, and give the young shift-lead a chance to show if she could handle more responsibility. This was, of course, on Zarya's mind as she stood up herself and headed out of the office, so the pressure was on.
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Chapter 2
After Zarya got home from work, she notified both her closest friend and her mother about the new responsibility she would have in just a couple weeks. It was not a lot of time to prepare, and after spending so much time chatting about it, she was feeling a bit overwhelmed about the situation. She decided to have some food delivered to the house, instead of cooking, so she could just unwind. It'll be fine... she thought to herself, trying to keep herself calm, despite feeling her anxiety spiking. Her heart rate was high, and she could feel that her cheeks were flushed.
She scrolled through the food app on her phone, and settled on her favorite--pancakes and bacon from a local mom and pop shop. "When all else fails, have breakfast for dinner," her dad used to say. It was always a good comfort food when she was feeling down. Ugh--the wait time is over an hour! Guess I should take a shower while I wait...
Once in the bathroom, Zarya undressed and let her shoulder-length brunette hair down. As she brushed her hair gently, she noted that she had more grey hairs creeping in, but she did not mind them too much. She felt that she was aging pretty gracefully, but the ruddy highlights of her hair were definitely fading fast the last couple of years. She was more insecure about her body shape than anything, but she knew she could not change who she was, and had been slowly learning to love herself--flaws and all. She was on the heavy side, and somewhere between "potato" (as she called it) and curvy, but she tried to focus on her positive traits. After all, what is a pretty face without empathy, for instance?
Suddenly there was a knock at the door, and she groaned while wrapping a towel around herself. Due to her waist size, there was rarely a towel she could find that wrapped around all of the way, and usually it left a slit of some sort at her side. Zarya did her best to cover up, though, and quickly walked to the door, and looked through the peephole. "Who is it?" she begrudgingly asked, noticing it was an older woman.
"Excuse me--" the muffled voice said, but Zarya could not make out the rest. She gave in, and cracked the door to find a woman who looked about eighty leaning over a cane and shaking slightly.
"I'm sorry. I couldn't hear you through my door. What is it that you needed?" Zarya inquired.
"Oh my! Well, I seem to be a bit lost, but it looks like I've caught you at a bad time, dear," croaked the old woman.
"No, no. It's ok!" The woman did look confused, and Zarya could not help but wonder if she had dementia or Alzheimer's. "Where are you supposed to be? Would you like me to call someone for you?"
"Oh, no, this is quite embarrassing. No need to call anyone. I just need to find my doctor's office, but this doesn't look like it from the inside," said the old woman insisted.
"Blame the architects," Zarya chuckled. "For some reason, when they designed the buildings in this neighborhood, they made them all look very similar, but I bet the doctor you're looking for is just next door!"
"Oh really?" she woman smiled with hope.
"Yes! What's the name of the office?"
After some discussion about which doctor Mrs. Robinson (as she soon told her) was seeing--and why--and how many grandkids she had--and what a nice doctor Mr. Benson was--Zarya decided it would be best to show the talkative (perhaps lonely) old woman where the office was exactly. "Listen, I need to take a shower soon, but I'll point you in the direction you need to go, ok?" she said gently as she headed towards the entrance of the apartments. Normally Zarya would not dream of stepping out of her apartment without being fully dressed, but the old woman was not going to leave on her own. Thankfully she lived on the first floor.
