Janel's...Naturally: Three

The first week was as exhausting as Janel expected.  Fine tuning, lots of fine tuning.  And dealing with the myriad of suggestions from customers.  She had once been a suggester, too.  She was more than embarrassed about it now. 

“Oh if I only knew then,” she thought.

As she climbed under her comforter, she thought more about how she handled things in the past.  Wanting to be more soft while still being direct, just tempering it. And now she was in her café.  The boss, the indebted one, hoping to find that soft spot that could also manage a successful business.

The phone rang. 

“How are you? Robert asked.

“Exhausted, happy,” Janel replied.

“How about you.  A new editor.  I am so excited for you.  No surprise, either,” she said.

“A lot on my plate now.  Lots of re-organize to do.  Oh, and the dead weight.  Whew.”

“Well, the good news is, Lumpy doesn’t want to do a thing.  He’ll put in his hours, buy his beer and start it all over the next day,” Janel said.

Robert laughed.

“So true.”

“Just wanted to check in with you.  I’ll pop in sometime tomorrow.  We both need to remember, Roman wasn’t built in a day,” he laughed.

“True. At least now, I am so busy, I don’t have time to think so much,” she laughed.

Tomorrow came soon enough.

“Just wanted to check in with you.  I’ll pop in sometime tomorrow.  We both need to remember, Rome wasn’t built in a day,” he laughed.

“True. At least now, I am so busy, I don’t have time to think so much” she laughed.

Tomorrow came soon enough.

But the tomorrow’s always bring yesterday and today.  Unless you are fully present. Janel understood that although she often forgot it. 

She was at the café long before the seven o’clock opening time. Tammy, her new assistant walked in behind her.

Tammy, was Janel’s age.  Single, too.  She also left a long term marriage after raising her twin daughters. She looked a lot like Emmy Lou Harris with her stunning gray hair.

“Boss, the organic coffee, scones and latte are all done.   I need to run to the rest room to tie up this hair. I have a question for you.”

“Sure, give me a minute until I get the rest of the muffins in the oven,” Janel said.

“Ever feel now that your children are on their own, single and in your sixties, that you are invisible to everyone?  I mean, it has been written about ad infinitum.  I never gave it much thought until a friend talked about it last night,” Tammy said.

“I do.  I can even remember my mother saying that to me.  She also said that she ‘had no purpose.’  I guess I was in my early forties at the time.  I understood exactly what she meant.  She felt invisible and unneeded. It’s a horrible thing this culture does to us.”

“Well, I am not adopting that notion.  I matter as do all people.  Society is just a mess.  Why would anyone adopt their standards, their rules?” Janel said.

It was precisely that moment  that Janel defined herself better. 

“The culture, this educational, socio-economical and political system in this country tries to define us.  It also has.”

“When I was nineteen, my then boyfriend, who later became my husband, and I were stepping out for New Year’s Eve.  I was wearing a gorgeous red velvet dress.  I had worn it in my sister-in-law’s wedding in Minnesota.  The year was 1969.  I thought I looked sharp.

Then I asked my boyfriend’s mother, who wasn’t particularly on Bill Black’s Best Dressed List, what she thought of my brand new shoes.  Now understand, I didn’t make much money at the time.  I had just bought these cute patent leather shoes.  Black.”

“The woman told me she didn’t like the shoes with the dress.”

“Too light.  You need something heavier,” the soon to be mother-in law said.

“Only years later would I learn she would set up a competition between me and her daughter.  Are ya still following me?”

“Of course.  We’re females,” Tammy laughed.  

“We’re a friggin rule book,” Janel said.

“Maybe that is what the real coming of age is about about.  Screw the rules.”