The Passion Agency Read Online Free PDF Page B

bear after that. Maybe this is the real lesson.
Who knows and who cares I guess?
     
    Tomorrow when I wake up I still have the same things
I am trying to break out of. I don’t know how to break free. If I
could live my dreams I might be way happier.
     
    I am not unhappy now but I might be able to do more
for Brea or even Chris. I don’t like being a failure but I think
life has swallowed me up. That’s why I felt way worse than like
jealousy or hurt over Chris and Brea.”
    ...
    Searching around her mom’s room and uncovering her
personal journal brought Brea closer to the reality of what it
meant to be an adult and far closer to her mother than she had been
at any point she could ever remember. She read the October 10 entry
a total of three times. Each time it made her sob.
     
    She sobbed because she didn’t know how much her mom
cared. Or maybe she sobbed because she felt truly loved when she
read what her mom wrote and that was a first for her.
     
    She sensed most how much of her mom’s life was tied
up in broken dreams and how badly she wanted to unbreak them. She
could see her mom wanted those dreams for not just herself but for
what the dreams could do for everyone else.
     
    Brea just had no concept of life outside her little
world. She was actually frightened by how far she had to go to be
as generous in spirit as her mom.
     
    Now she knew much much more about what made her mom
tick. Maybe things might align for them to have impact in each
other’s lives beyond any normal mother and daughter relationship.
Because they most certainly did not have normal or conventional.
That was assured when Donna climbed out from under her daughter’s
bed and saw what she saw.
     
     

     

Chapter 6--The Measure of Grit
     
    Donna hustled into her car and gunned it as fast as
she could over to Carson. An obvious downside of living anywhere in
Los Angeles was you were creating all kinds of problems if you were
trying to get to things timely when you were late starting out.
     
    She did what she could but was a solid ten minutes
late for the interview.
     
    At the interview, she did a super job in her view of
acting like she loved the idea of being a legal assistant and
really wanted the job.
     
    “Tell me what excites you about the law?” was one of
the questions from an old fat guy member of their three panelist
interview team. Donna thought the guy looked miserable but figured
he probably had made his money.
     
    He introduced himself as a “partner” and sure enough
Donna noticed his name was on the door.
     
    “I love standing up for my position and the position
of the people I work for,” she said with bubbling smile. “I think
our system is wonderful because it affords people the opportunity
to make that argument. That due process. (due process? She had been
watching coverage of a pro football player losing his job over a
bar fight he got into and heard everyone talking about it. It just
came out.) Being able to compete against other people in the
marketplace of ideas and find a way to win no matter what.”
     
    She was lying on everything she was saying, but it
sounded convincing. The truth was she hated arguing.
     
    But she was desperate. The babysitting job looked
like it was being curtailed because that family was cutting their
expenses in difficult times. The waitressing job didn’t pay enough
to make much of a difference. She needed this crap. She was fully
convinced of it.
     
    “Can you explain why you were late today?” one of the
older female attorneys asked. She was some wills and estates
specialist Donna would see with a big pull-out ad in the
newspaper.
     
    Donna was starting to get herself a splitting
headache just being here. It seemed like the same old, same old.
More begging for something she hated, just because she had no
choice. Why did life have to be so devoid of choices?
     
    This was what she asked herself as she answered the
question.
     
    “I misjudged traffic on the way over