The Do-Over(2)
Author: Suzanne Park
She took my wrist and checked my pulse. “Hmmm. Did anything happen that might spike your blood pressure and heart rate?” Clicking around in my health records, she looked at me and said, “Do we need to change your medications?”
“No,” I answered definitively as she removed the Velcro cuff from my arm. “No need. It’s nothing to worry about. Only a one-time, minor inconvenience that will get straightened out soon.”
She offered me a reassuring smile. “Okay then. The doctor will be here shortly.”
* * *
I MADE SEVERAL calls to the registrar’s office that afternoon, and no one picked up the phone. The on-hold message encouraged me to chat with “Carly” on the college website, Carlthorpe’s online virtual assistant beta, but the she-bot couldn’t help me because my transcripts were ten years old, past the earliest year in the drop-down menu. Apparently I’d reached the cutoff mark when alumni were “archived.” My transcript request would require manual assistance.
Carlthorpe was a leisurely four-and-a-half-hour drive from New York City, or just over three hours if you were driving like a bat out of hell, so relatively close. The train was about the same, but it also required travel to and from the train station. After my fourth attempt to call and speak with a live person, I made a decision to go to campus the next day before the morning rush hour to ask for my paperwork in person. If everything went smoothly, I could be home by dinnertime.
The 7:15 A.M. departure from Grand Central went without a hitch and the train ride was great for my work productivity. I’d managed to organize my notes and had even written a few pages of an outline by the time the train rolled into the station. I checked my watch: 10:45 A.M. Plenty of time to spare.
When my Uber pulled up to the front gates of the campus, an email notification buzzed my phone just as I exited the car. It was a note from Katherine Goodwin, the patient editor of my long-overdue book.
Good afternoon, Lily,
I was thinking more about titles this week, and maybe this new book should have a simple title, like your last one. I loved HOW TO BE A WORK SUPERNOVA, so what do you think about HOW TO LAND YOUR DREAM JOB—it’s easy to remember and straightforward, right?
How’s the research going? Last we spoke you’d been interviewing at some really hot companies and had great insight into researching dream employers. Let me know if you need to run anything by me in the meantime—always open to read any chapters you’ve written.
Also, some good news! I’ve been promoted to editorial director. I’ve cc’d Amanda Phillips, our newest team member, who will be working with me as an editorial assistant on your next book. She came over from the contracts department and is a whiz with edits and meticulous with sales and forecast numbers. We’re both excited to see what you have for us next!
All best,
K
I let out a long sigh. I’ll get back to you soon, Katherine, once I officially have my job offer in hand.
Immediately, my notifications buzzed.
Nice to meet you, Lily!
As Katherine mentioned, I’ll be working with you on your next project. Excited to get started! I took a look at your contract, and it looks like your manuscript is due. Let me know if I can be of any assistance. In the meantime, I’m updating all our authors’ bio pages on our website and retail sites. Could you please take a look at your “About the Author” page and let me know if there are any updates to your bio? Also, I see you attended Carlthorpe too! Nice to meet a fellow Carlthorpian!
All best,
Amanda
I clicked the link and it redirected to my author page on my publisher’s website that hadn’t been updated in years. Beneath my headshot was a list of my professional and academic credentials. I replied to Amanda’s email, mirroring her enthusiasm, giving her the green light to keep my author blurb the same, adding that I had an exciting new career development and would need another update sometime soon. After clearing up this clerical error with my alma mater, I could include my next position with Swain & Wallace in the marketing materials for my new book. For the author website though, it would have to wait a little bit longer.
I closed the car door and quickly checked my top-half reflection in the passenger-side window before the car pulled away. No flyaway hairs flapping in the wind. A barely wrinkled ivory silk blouse. Smudge-resistant eyeliner still resisting. A presentable, respectable alumna. Lily Lee, business consultant and author of How to Be a Work Supernova and the forthcoming second book in the series How to Land Your Dream Job, was coming back to where it all started. Carlthorpe College.
In peep-toe heels, I strode along the cobblestone walkway and through the ivy-covered, wrought iron gates of the main campus entrance, where the stationed security guard smiled and nodded at me. The registrar was the first building on the right, which I’d remembered after all these years but was validated by the campus map I’d saved on my phone. I hoped that late morning would be a good time: it was right before the lunch rush and left plenty of time for an administrator to assist me in finding my student file. This didn’t leave room for a fun, leisurely day in this quaint college town though. There would be no nostalgic strolls through the courtyard. No casual dining at the cute cafés on Main Street or partaking of the all-afternoon happy hour at the Carlthorpe Tavern. Sadly, not even a visit to the campus bookstore. My plan was to get the transcript and head right back home before the business day ended. I had more résumés to send out, interviews to prepare for, and a book that wasn’t going to write itself. My walk down memory lane would have to be another day, under happier, more forgiving circumstances.
The timeworn wooden door leading to the registrar’s office gave little resistance to my light push, and I was delighted to see I was the only person in line. It made sense: there wasn’t a ton of academic activity during the summer, and fall registration hadn’t started yet. Evidence of a birthday celebration lay behind the Plexiglas divider: large catered aluminum trays once filled with fruit salad, home fries, and pasta were now mostly empty. A small wedge of confetti cake sat in a large pink pastry box. Seeing all this food laid out triggered my mouth to water, an involuntary reminder that I needed to eat lunch. Maybe a quick meal at a dining spot on campus would be a nice treat before taking the train back to the city.
The woman at the window pushed her glasses up to the bridge of her nose with her index finger. “Student ID number please.” Her fingers were perched above her keyboard, ready to descend and peck.
“I—I’m not a student. I’m an alum.” I had to admit, it was somewhat flattering that she thought I could be enrolled here.