When she graduated school, my parents and brother were prepared to give her a supporting role at the company and call it a day. But unbeknownst to them, Al had been taking clients outside of work. Working with businesses to grow their social media, marketing, and outreach. I’m not sure how much my family knows of it, but from what she told me, it is something she works really hard at. Something way more challenging than the throw away busy work our family thought she should be doing.
It was surprising to see her like that. I never expected her to be so ambitious, and I don’t know if my family had yet to notice the full extent of it but if and when they did, I imagine they’d be just as stunned as me.
When I was little, I remember seeing how they treated Alta. Seeing all the things they told her shecouldn’t dobecause “she would hurt herself” or because “that’s too rough for you Alta, go play with the flowers instead” and I remember making the conscious three year old decision that I wouldn’t be treated like that. I hated being told I couldn’t do something back then just like I hated it now.
Then and there, I decided I’d be as rough as possible. That I wouldn’t care if I fell, even if it hurt. That I wouldn’t cry if I was sad, I’d make them even sadder. That I wouldn’t be something that was controlled by what others thought I should be.
That early stand of independence was probably what I had to thank for who I was today.
It was also probably what was digging my current grave. Because here I was still with my righteous independence but nothing else to show for it. Meanwhile, there Al was, just as independent and even more than that, she was the badass that I’d always wanted to be, at least when it came to taking control of her life, and she’d done it in a way of less turbulence. It was admirable and enviable.Everyonewas further than I was it seems.
We spent the day zipping around town to Al’s clients. A cupcake company that swore by our sister-in-law's cookbooks, a tattoo parlor that revealed my sweet sister had a tattoo courtesy of the large, tattooed owner named Gus, and a cotton candy cart located on the tourist beaches that sold massive head-sized cones of cotton candy with funky flavors.
We talked with each client about marketing strategy, what’s been working for them lately and what trends they wanted to experiment with next and taking photos.
It was all very boring and yet…Alta was amazing.
She was normally adorable with her half up half down hairstyles and frilly blouses. But even as she looked like a schoolteacher or something, she acted like an executive. Telling people where to go, what to do, what will work and what they should forego all with complete and undeniable confidence.
Alta smiles at everyone, but when she smiled at her clients there was something else in her eyes. Respect, I assume for their craft. Protectiveness for what she promised she’d do for them. Just like I had never seen Mattí so serious the other day, I think it was safe to say I had never seen my sister like this either.
And while witnessing it gave me this rising sense of pride, I could feel something else rising in me as well. It was ugly, and it was not gracious to myself, and it wanted nothing more than to send me home to wallow in myself doubts.
It was also the truth.
That truth being, I was playing at something I had no chance at. I was playing, period. Sure, I had worked a few days and sure I was playing along with my parents’ request to try to figure myself out, but the truth of it was, I had no place here. Not with Mattí and his ventures, not with Lis and her hard work philosophy, and not with Al in her soft determination. And I knew there would be no place with Ox and his effortless perfection when I was so…me.
So what was I even doing here? Pretending like this was me? Like I belonged anywhere near business investments or clients or any of the dozens of uninteresting concepts my siblings seemed to be obsessed with.
Try. Connor's voice said from the corner of my mind.
A happy corner where I was warm and safe and I wouldn't care if I failed because at least there would be a friend there to make fun of me when I was down. All while being the first to help me back up.
Someone who doesn’t mind picking you up if you fall... I think were his words.
I heaved a deep breath.
Okay. I could do this. I wasn't a quitter, and I told him I would give trying a shot. So I would give it a fair one.
“Ceci, are you alright? You’ve been pretty quiet today,” Al asked as we pulled up to our final destination for the day.
We would have already been done, but Al had insisted on visiting one of her newest clients that were opening in a few weeks. This apparently meant a ramp up in marketing and advertising. I had wanted to complain until she agreed to take pity on me and take me home, but there was something about the puppy dog look in her eye that had me reluctantly telling her to "let’s just get this over with". That was until we got to our next destination.
I almost growled. Because the place we just pulled up to was the last place I expected to be back so soon.
The fucking wine shop.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I mumbled. Like a bad movie, I smushed my face against the glass and peered up to the little brick store.
The Seaside market district was on a cobblestoned street located near enough to the tourist beaches to be considered a site seeing destination, but close enough to the wealthy edges of Seaside to be considered upscale. Quaint private restaurants and specialty boutiques lined the pretty old world streets. Flowers hung in high baskets along the street poles and around stone walls giving the feeling that we were in a different place altogether. Like Paulo’s Italian shoppe didn’t seem so out of place.
I hadn’t noticed before, but Paulo’s shop was beautiful. Stone lined street, huge glass front window that was framed with long vines and the deepest red flowers. Wine stacked artistically on crates and in a weird sort of hay grass stuff that made the shop window look both rustic and luxurious all at the same time. You could feel the passion from the sidewalk.
I glared out Al’s car window. So much so that I hardly noticed her get out and round the car to my side until my door was opening and she was reaching in to take my hand. “Come on little sister, let me show you my newest client! Mattí introduced us and he is the nicest man.”
I must have looked at her like she was crazy because she laughed as she dragged me toward the store. “Do we really have to go in here, Al?”
“Yes!” She laughed again as if me digging my heels into the ground was all a part of some crazy game we were playing. “What is up with you? It’s not like you to be so shy, Ceci.”
