Later that afternoon, while Serena was no doubt sound asleep, Maria was on her paddleboard in Masonboro Sound, a place that had long since become her favorite spot to spend a weekend afternoon. Masonboro Island was the largest barrier island along the southern coast of the state, and while she sometimes navigated to the Atlantic side of the island, most of the time she preferred the glassy waters of the marsh. As always, the wildlife was spectacular. In her first hour on the water, she’d seen ospreys, pelicans, and egrets and had taken what she thought were some pretty good photographs. In June, for her birthday, she’d treated herself to a high-quality waterproof camera, and though it had been a financial stretch and she was still paying off the credit card bill, she hadn’t yet regretted it. While they wouldn’t end up in
National Geographic
, a few of her photos
had
been good enough to hang on the walls of her condominium, which was a prudent decorating option since she could barely afford the condo, either.
But out here, it was easy to think about those things without necessarily worrying about them. Though she’d only taken up paddleboarding since she’d moved back to Wilmington, it had the same effect on her that dancing used to have. She’d reached the point where keeping her balance was effortless and the steady paddling rhythm melted the stress away. Usually, within a few minutes of being on the water she was left with the sensation that all was right with the world. It was a warm, relaxing glow that started in her neck and shoulders before spreading to the rest of her body, and by the time she was in the shower after returning home, she’d feel ready to face yet another week in the office. Serena was wrong about paddleboarding. It wasn’t boring; it was necessary these days for her mental health, and she had to admit it wasn’t half bad for her figure, either. In the last year, she’d become toned in places she didn’t even know could be toned, and she’d had to have her suits altered because they’d grown too loose in the waist and butt.
Not that it would matter. Serena might have been wrong about paddleboarding, but she had been right about Maria’s run of bad luck in her love life, starting with Luis. He was the first guy she’d ever been serious about, the first guy she’d ever really loved. They’d been friends for almost a year before they’d finally started going out, and on the surface, they had a lot in common. Like her, he was the child of Mexican immigrants and intended to become a lawyer; like her, he enjoyed dancing, and after they’d been dating for a couple of years, it had been easy for her to imagine a future with him. Luis, on the other hand, had made it clear that he was content to continue going out – and sleeping with her – as long as she never expected anything more than that. Even bringing up the subject of marriage had freaked him out, and while she’d initially tried to convince herself that it didn’t really matter, she’d known deep down that it did.
Still, in the end, the breakup had been a surprise; he’d simply called one evening and told her it was over. She’d eventually tried to console herself with the facts that they wanted different things in life and Luis simply wasn’t ready for the kind of commitment she knew she wanted. But then? Just a little over a year later, right after she’d taken the bar exam, she’d learned that he was engaged. She’d spent the next six weeks in a funk, trying to figure out why the other girl had been good enough to marry while he hadn’t even been able to discuss the subject with her. Where had she gone wrong? Had she been too pushy? Too boring? Or too… something else? Looking back, she had no idea. Of course, the whole experience would have been easier if she’d met someone else after Luis, but with every passing year she found herself wondering more and more where all the good guys had gone. Or even if there really was such a thing anymore. Where were the guys who didn’t expect you to sleep with them after only a date or two? Or guys who believed that picking up the check on a first date was a classy thing to do? Or even a guy with a somewhat decent job and plans for the future? God knows, after she and Luis had broken up, she’d put herself out there. Despite the long hours she spent studying in law school and then later, working in Charlotte, she’d gone out regularly with friends on the weekends, but had anyone halfway decent asked her out?
She momentarily broke off her paddling, allowing the board to glide as she straightened up, stretching her back. Well, actually, they probably had, she thought. But back then, she’d tended to focus first on their appearance, and she could remember saying no to a few guys who hadn’t been quite cute enough. And maybe that had been the problem. Maybe she’d turned down Mr. Right because he hadn’t been tall enough or whatever, and now – because he was Mr. Right – he was already off the market. These days, it seemed like Mr. Rights tended to fly off the shelves, perhaps because they were as rare as California condors.
Most of the time, it didn’t bother her. She was different from her mom, who believed that a woman’s relationship status defined her. She had her own life, she could come and go as she pleased, and while she didn’t have anyone to take care of her, she didn’t have to take care of anyone else, either. Yet in the past couple of years – as she began inching closer to thirty – there had been moments when she thought that it might be nice to have someone to go dancing with, or who would join her while she paddleboarded, or even someone willing to listen to her complain after a bad day at work. Having a wide circle of friends, like Serena did, might have filled that void, but most of Maria’s friends lived in either the Raleigh or Charlotte areas, and getting together with them almost always meant a road trip and sleeping on someone’s couch. Aside from her immediate family, relatives, Jill, and a few other coworkers – and, yes, even Paul, despite the other night – the only people she knew here were those she’d gone to high school with, and because she’d been away for years, they’d drifted apart. She supposed that she could try to reestablish contact, but by the time she finished up at work, all she usually wanted to do was unwind in the bathtub with a glass of wine and a good book. Or, if she felt energetic, maybe hit the water on the paddleboard. Even friendships took energy, and lately she didn’t have enough to go around. While that meant her life wasn’t all that exciting, it was also the kind of low-key predictability she needed. Her last year in Charlotte had been traumatic, and…
She shook her head, forcing away the memory of that final year. Taking a calming breath, she told herself firmly to focus on the positive, as she’d trained herself to do. There were a lot of good things in her life. She had her family, her own place, and a job she enjoyed…
Are you sure about that?
, the little voice inside her suddenly asked.
Because you know that’s not quite true.
It had started off well enough, but wasn’t that always the case? Martenson, Hertzberg & Holdman was a midsize firm, and she worked principally for the primary litigator, Barney Holdman, doing insurance defense work. Barney was in his early sixties and a rainmaker for the firm, a legal genius who wore seersucker suits and spoke with a slow, heavy drawl straight from the mountains of North Carolina. To both clients and juries, he came across as the friendly grandfather type, but beneath the surface, he was hard-driving, prepared for everything, and demanding of associates. In working for him, she had the privilege of time, expertise, and money to prepare her cases, all of which was a far cry from her work as a prosecutor.
Jill was a bonus. As the only women in the office aside from secretaries and paralegals, who had their own cliques, Jill and Maria had hit it off right away, even though they worked in different departments. They had lunch together three or four times a week, and Jill often dropped by Maria’s office just to visit for a few minutes. She was quick-witted and made Maria laugh, but had an incisive legal mind and was one of the firm’s key assets. Why she hadn’t been made partner yet was a mystery. Maria sometimes wondered whether Jill was long for the firm, though she’d said nothing directly about it.
The real problem was Ken Martenson, the managing partner of the firm, who seemed to hire paralegals based on their attractiveness as opposed to their qualifications and spent too much time hovering around their desks. That part didn’t necessarily bother Maria, nor did it bother her to see Ken fraternizing with one paralegal or another in a manner that sometimes seemed less than entirely professional. Jill had filled her in on Ken’s reputation during Maria’s first week on the job, especially his interest in attractive paralegals, but Maria had shrugged it off. That is, until Ken began to set his sights on her. It wasn’t a good development, and lately the situation was getting even more complicated. It was one thing to try to avoid Ken at the office, where there were always other people around, but the conference in Winston-Salem they’d attended last week had amplified her fears that things might get worse. Though Ken hadn’t gone so far as to walk her to her hotel room door – thank God for small favors – he
had
pressured her into joining him for dinner both nights. And then? He’d given her the whole
my wife just doesn’t appreciate me
spiel while continually asking whether she wanted another glass of wine, despite the fact that she’d barely touched the first one. He’d talked about his place at the beach and how quiet and relaxing it was and noted more than once that it was usually empty. If she ever wanted to use it, all she had to do was ask. And had he mentioned how rare it was to work with someone who was both intelligent
and
beautiful?
Could the man have been more obvious? Nevertheless, when he’d hinted at what he wanted, she’d played dumb and then steered the subject back to the issues discussed at the conference. And it had worked, for the most part, but she hadn’t been lying to Serena when she’d said it was complicated. Sometimes she wished that someone would have told her before she applied to law school that being an attorney wasn’t quite the job guarantee she’d always imagined it would be. In the past few years, firms of all sizes had been cutting back, salaries were dropping, and right now there were too many lawyers chasing too few positions. After she’d left the district attorney’s office, it had taken her nearly five months to land this job, and as far as she knew, none of the other firms in town were hiring. If she even mumbled the words
sexual harassment
or vaguely hinted about filing a lawsuit, she probably wouldn’t be able to find another job in the entire state. Lawyers hated no one more than other lawyers who might sue them.
For the time being, she was stuck. She’d made it through the conference but vowed not to put herself in that kind of situation again. She’d avoid the break room and be a bit more cautious about working late, especially when she knew Ken would be there. For now, that was all she could do, aside from pray that he turned his sights back on one of the paralegals.
It was yet another example of the ways in which life had turned out to be more difficult than she’d imagined it would. When she’d started her first real job, she’d been idealistic; life had seemed more like an adventure. She’d fully believed that she had a meaningful role to play in keeping the streets safe and in giving victims a way to seek justice and redress. But over time, she’d begun to grow jaded about the entire process. It had become evident that even dangerous criminals often went free, the clogged wheels of the system turned impossibly slowly, and her caseload was never-ending. Now she was living again in the city where she’d grown up and practicing a kind of law vastly different from what she’d known as an assistant DA. While she’d been certain that things would be better once she was settled in, she’d slowly come to realize that job stress simply came in different flavors, and this one wasn’t much better tasting than the one before it.
She’d been surprised by that, but then, she’d been surprised by almost everything in the last seven years. The world might view her as a young, home-owning professional, but there were moments when she felt like she was faking the whole thing. Part of it was financial – after paying her bills at the end of the month, she had less spending money than she’d had as a teenager – but the other part was that most of her friends from college were already married, and some of them already had kids. When she talked to them, most came across as completely content, as though their lives were unfolding exactly as they’d planned, while she, on the other hand, had a sex-crazed boss, a condo she could barely afford, and a younger sister who seemed simultaneously wiser and more carefree than Maria was. If this was adulthood, she wondered now why she’d been in such a rush to grow up in the first place.
For the next hour, she pulled steadily at the paddle, the board gliding forward as she did her best to enjoy her surroundings. She noted the slowly shifting clouds and the trees reflected in the water. She concentrated on the salty fresh scent of the breeze and basked in the warmth of the sun on her arms and shoulders. Every now and then she snapped a photograph, including a good one of an osprey clasping a fish in its talons as it rose from the water. It was too shadowed in the viewfinder and a little too distant, but with enough work in Photoshop, it might be something worth keeping.
When she finally returned home, she showered and poured herself a glass of wine, then sat in a rocking chair she’d placed in the small confines of her rear porch. She watched people as they walked along Market Street, idly wondering what their lives were like. She liked to invent stories about them—
That one’s probably visiting from New York
, or
I’ll bet that mom is taking her kids out for ice cream.
It was a harmless, relaxing capstone to a weekend that had its share of both highs and lows.
Like the blown tire. Which reminded her that she’d have to run out tomorrow to get it replaced. But when? She knew that while she’d been out of the office at the conference, Barney had filled her inbox with work. They also had two important meetings in the afternoon, which wasn’t going to make it easy. Nor did she have any idea what Ken’s next move would be.