Don’t Make Me Turn This Life Around by Pagán, Camille (dar e dil novel online reading .txt) 📕

And instead of a cheerleader or watchman, they needed someone who would listen to them and be honest with them, even when the truth wasn’t pretty or palatable. They needed less hovering and more . . .

Well, more letting go.

“You’re right,” I told him.

Then I looked up. Above us, only the thinnest sliver of moon hung in the sky. After a few seconds my eyes adjusted, and the stars began to surface. They were fainter than they’d been in Puerto Rico, but I could make out a few of the constellations that Shiloh, who was something of an astronomy buff, had taught me. Though I couldn’t find Lyra, I easily located Aquila and Hercules. I’d just spotted Sagittarius, which made me smile—I wasn’t really into astrology, but I knew my father was a Sagittarius—when a shooting star shot clear through it.

The star wasn’t really a star; it was a meteor flaming out in the atmosphere. Though you could spend a whole evening stargazing without seeing one, they weren’t truly rare.

But my father had always said that everything was only ever what you made of it. And I knew what I’d just made of that shooting star.

“Did you see that?” asked Shiloh.

“Sure did,” I said, smiling up at the sky. “Call me crazy, but I’m going to take that as a sign that I’m on the right path.”

THIRTY-TWO

The following morning, I decided to walk the mile and a half to work instead of taking the F line two stops north as I usually did. I wanted a chance to gather my thoughts about the camp, and to consider whether there were other ways to bring excitement back to my job—and if not, whether it was time to hand over the reins to someone else. Because I knew the camp, however invigorating an idea, wasn’t going to be a silver bullet. It would not change the monotony of having to open and answer all those emails. It would not lessen the immense workload that I faced every single day.

But as I admired the brownstones I passed, the flower boxes hanging from their windows, and the fruit stands at the end of the street, I didn’t feel overwhelmed at what I was returning to. Because I had more agency than I’d given myself credit for, and maybe finally, the mental space to do something with that agency. I didn’t have to do it all on my own. Not anymore.

“Good morning,” I announced as I walked into the office.

“Libby, hi!” said Rupi, looking up from her computer. “How was your trip?”

“Oh my gosh, where to even start,” I said, making my way toward her desk. “I got stung by a jellyfish, stuck in a mud puddle, then stranded without electricity in Vieques during a tropical storm. My dear friend had a heart attack, and Charlotte’s insulin started to break down.”

“That sounds . . .” She cringed. “Horrible, actually.”

I laughed. “It was the worst. But believe me when I say that in the strangest way, it turned out to be what I needed. Hey—do you have a few minutes to talk?”

“Of course!” she said. “Here, or in your office?”

I looked around, and it occurred to me that it was okay if Kareem or Lauren, or anyone else for that matter, overheard our conversation. “Here is great,” I told her, pulling up a chair. “So . . . I thought a lot about what you said about the camp.”

She leaned forward, eyes wide with excitement. “I’m so glad. What do you think?”

“Well, first of all, I owe you an apology. I’ve been struggling to maintain excitement at work, and I glossed over that because I thought I had to lead by example.”

“That’s okay, Libby,” said Rupi kindly. “You’re our leader, sure. But you’re a human, too. I think you forget that sometimes.”

“You’re right, and I appreciate that more than you know,” I said, smiling at her. “With that in mind, I’m open to exploring the possibility of the camp. I think it’ll take four to six months to research, and if we decide to go forward, about two to three years to fund it and get it up and running. But here’s the catch.”

“I’m listening,” she said, leaning in even closer.

“I don’t want it to just be for kids who’ve lost a parent to cancer. I want to have some weeks designated for kids who are differently abled or who have medical conditions like diabetes—and I want their siblings to be able to join them. Maybe even their close friends. I haven’t figured it all out yet,” I said. “But I’m hoping you can help me with that.”

Rupi’s eyes were saucers. “Whoa. Really?”

I gave her a pained smile. “Terrible idea?”

She erupted into laughter. “How did you go from glossing over things to assuming the worst?”

I had to laugh, too. “I’m still figuring this all out. Bear with me.”

“Happy to. And to answer your question, it’s not a bad idea at all. In fact, I think it’s pretty darn amazing. Is it going to take a ton of work? Absolutely. But that’s not a reason not to do it. And we’re going to have to get buy-in from the rest of the team, though something tells me that won’t be hard to do.”

I beamed at her. “I was hoping you would say that. But I have to run one more thing by you.” I was right outside the foundation office that morning when I realized that there was a way for me to lighten my workload—and the minute I thought of it, I couldn’t believe I hadn’t earlier.

“Okay,” she said, nodding.

“I’d like to make you codirector, effective immediately. We’ll need to bring someone else on board to handle some of your current tasks—and mine,” I said. “There are parts of my job that are sapping my joy, and I’m sure you feel the same. I’d like to bring in someone new to help, so that you and I can focus on bigger initiatives. I’ve been so focused on keeping