I’ll Wait For You

Chapter 7

Success came with downfalls. On one hand, the words flowed from Elinor’s fingers, pulled out of her mind and woven into coherent song. She spent hours on them, listened in on band jamming sessions who started incorporating her lyrics, working in some melodies around them. Other songs, she formed the words because of the melody already in place, and she discovered those ones to be the most fluid. Words inspired by music, or music inspired by words.

On the other hand, the amount of extra time she had been pouring into this, delving into her passion, cost her time with her friends and family, and missed shifts at work.

Karen, for whatever reason, had turned from someone open and friendly to her to someone neutral and even disdainful of her. She instead gossiped to the other workers, and only paid Elinor the barest of attention. Elinor didn’t understand the change, and it hurt her. She had really liked Karen, and hoped to become better friends with her.

Karen, however, no longer shared that desire. When Elinor approached her about it, she claimed that it was because Elinor was clearly removing herself from the rest of them, thinking she was better because she “managed to obtain a new and fancy job.”

It didn’t help that she got called by Richard Strong, either, who voiced concerns about her low attendance rate.

“Elinor, you’ve been a good and faithful worker here for a long time, and I’ve always appreciated what you’ve done for us. But right now, you’ve missed almost one third of your shifts in the past month, even though you’ve been given reduced hours. As much as I like you, and want to keep you, if this continues, I will need to hire someone else to cover the loss of hours you’re giving us. We just can’t afford to lose that time, and put unfair pressure on the rest of the staff to cover. Do you understand?”

Elinor, who felt her heart plummeting at the announcement, merely nodded, squeezed between two contrasting desires; the desire to write and write until her fingers bled and her brain retired to bed, exhausted, and the desire to be the good, reliable worker at the café that had always been there for her.

Truthfully, she knew it wasn’t worth it to stay here, if her writing career with the band kicked off in style.

“Just be honest with me, Elinor. Will you be able to make up for what’s been lost?” Richard Strong seemed to implore her with his eyes and expression; he really didn’t want to lose such a good worker, someone who had been part of Velocity Café for seven years.

It hurt Elinor greatly to think over the matter. Seeing his hopeful, sad face made her guts twist in guilt. “I can,” she said. Instant pressure squished at her skull. “I can.”

In her heart, she panicked that she couldn’t. What she had just given her boss was a downright lie. Just because she didn’t want to see his face fall, or to let down the people at the café, even though Karen had inexplicably turned against her, and was slowly but surely infecting the rest of the newer staff.

Elinor tried cornering Karen over it when the woman went for a smoke break. She didn’t want to think that the woman had given up on her once and for all, and wanted to salvage the remnants of their once budding friendship.

“Hey, Karen, I want to talk to you for a moment. Please.”

“Fine,” Karen said, her left leg jigging on the spot.

The weather outside the café this time showed clear blue skies, without a wisp of cloud in sight, and a heat that made everyone comfortable in dismissing their jackets for walking outside, which was nice, considering some of the bitter cold winds that had gone through Chicago in earlier weeks, even though it was supposed to be summer. It seemed like centuries ago when Elinor had been cheered on by Karen and embraced by her for her performance in Velocity Café, between the red velvet curtains of the stage. The thought left Elinor sad.

“Why are you being so hostile to me? I thought we were starting to be good friends. You were happy for me when I sang, and you were happy that I got the contract. So why are you being like this now?”

“I don’t know what you mean. I haven’t changed, if that’s what you’re getting at,” Karen said. “I’m still same old Karen.”

“No, you’re not. You’re the ‘Karen who doesn’t like me anymore’ Karen. You know, I had George ask me if I really talked sh*t about him in the media. I haven’t even gone anywhere near the media. I asked him how he found out about that, and he said it was from you.”

“I’m not the one who has changed,” Karen reiterated. “You are.”

This statement irritated Elinor. “Now you’re trying to turn it on me like my ex-husband does. I don’t…” Elinor hesitated. She was about to say that she didn’t understand the hostility, but she stopped herself. That wasn’t entirely correct. She did understand. She just didn’t want to address it, because she wanted to try and solve things the nice, less abrasive way.

“I know why you’re like this.” Seeing Karen’s hurt and intrigued expression, Elinor pressed on, spitefully, “I never thought you had it in you. You’re jealous. And you want to drag me down because you can’t handle the idea of someone being more successful than you.”

“Fu*k you,” Karen spat, her hand shaking, causing cigarette smoke to tumble down. Her beautiful face had contorted into something ugly, showing a mean pettiness that hadn’t been there before. “I’m not jealous. You’ve been getting all high and mighty since you got that job, looking down on the rest of us. You’ve been skipping shifts and you act like you don’t care about what that does to us, all the overtime we’ve gotten because of you – so don’t you fu*king dare try and claim I’m jealous.”

“What? That doesn’t even make sense.”

“Have you or have you not been skipping shifts?”

“Yes, but –”

“Exactly,” Karen interrupted, infuriating Elinor further. Now Karen was deliberately and cold heartedly shutting her down.

“Look, stop interrupting me and let me actually finish what I’m saying.”

“It’s just going to be an excuse,” Karen said, rising to the challenge, “So why should I listen to your bullsh*t?”

 “You’re not even giving me a chance to speak now. You’re jumping to conclusions and trying to win this argument by ignoring what I’m saying.”

“Look, I don’t care what you think,” Karen said, her former innocence and demeanor gone. “I know exactly what you are, and I ain’t buying it. You can put the nice girl act in front of me and pretend to act all hurt and shocked that I’m being like this, but remember – you brought it upon yourself by treating the rest of us like sh*t.”

Elinor opened and closed her mouth, speechless. Karen was insane. There was literally no other way she could think about this unfolding conversation. She didn’t know how to react to it, only that a sinking feeling permeated her stomach, from the stark knowledge that no matter what she said or how persuasive she tried to be, Karen wouldn’t listen.

Karen didn’t want to listen. Because she wanted her viewpoint to be right.

Because Elinor didn’t feel satisfied leaving in silence, she gave out one last jab. “There’s not much I can do if you’re this determined to put me in the enemy camp, is there?”

“You put yourself there.”

Though disappointment surged inside, Elinor felt the bonds of her hopeful, once developing friendship with this woman evaporate. “You, Karen, are fu*king crazy. And it’s probably better I find out now then later.”

She turned her back on Karen, and began walking into the café.

“How the fu*k do you get I’m crazy from this?” Karen’s voice held a pitch of hysteria in it.