Celia popped out of bed early the next morning, ready to vanquish the daunting tasks that lay ahead. Checking her face in the bathroom mirror, she saw a slight bruise forming under her right eye. The swelling had subsided, so a little makeup covered the bruise.
A little makeup to cover a bruise. What the hell? Earl has to die!
Checking the chart on her laptop, she chose the most pressing action item and, picking up her phone, began the search for future employment.
With Dog out of the picture, she hoped these positions would be easier to find.
Her first call was to Luna Velasco. As she waited for her to answer, Celia thought about her seven years at the TDLR. Sadly, Luna had been her friend before she started there, and she was the only friend she had when she left. Yet another example of how shitty her life had been.
Luna picked up.
"Hello, Luna Velasco, can I help you?" the congenial voice answered. "Hi, Luna," Celia said, expecting her to have heard that she quit. "Valerie! Oh my God! Are you okay? I heard about what happened. I hope that wasn't my fault? I was thinking that maybe I shouldn't have told you."
"Oh no, you definitely needed to tell me. I can't thank you enough."
"That's good." Her attitude changed. "Because you are one crazy bitch!" She laughed out loud. "I heard you put on quite a show! You're a star in that building right now! People are so pissed that no one video'd it!"
Celia laughed back, surprised. Word of her exploits had traveled fast. "A gal can only take so much and then, bang, you gotta explode. Screw that asshole. He isn't going to stand in my way ever again."
Still laughing, Luna said, "I think they're gonna put up a statue of you mooning. They'll call it, Take This Job and Shove It!"
"If they do, I hope it's right outside Dog's office window."
"Oh mija, you make me laugh so hard." Luna's attitude transitioned again. "But seriously, what's next?"
Celia responded, "Two things, obviously. I'm looking for work. Since Dog can't stop me anymore, I thought I might have a shot at some position in the company. I'm checking everywhere, of course, but I thought you might be able to help. Do you have any inside info on job openings? I've got the degree, I've got government experience, I've got the music in me. Who could ask for anything more?"
Luna laughed. "Let me check around and see what's open. I'll make a few calls and get back to ya."
"And could you get the paperwork going for my termination? I don't know what the procedure is, but I want to get it done."
Luna took in a deep breath. "Yeah, sure, of course. I'll list your last day as today so you can get the extra pay. We prorate this pay period, and then I'll see what vacation/sick days you've accrued. It'll go out with the next pay period."
"I have a new bank account; I'll send you the info." Celia heard Luna's name called in the background.
"Hey, sorry, I gotta go. I'll ask around and see what I can hunt up." Before she hung up, she said, "And I'm proud of ya. You deserve to be happy." Luna hung up.
Good. One last paycheck with vaca days. That'll help.
Her name change became the next most immediate item on her agenda. She did an online search and found the requirements and procedure. But as she began the process, she started having second thoughts.
Making that decision had been a rash, spur-of-the-moment declaration. It was meant to be dramatic and bold. But it had also been impulsive and careless. She took a second to contemplate this choice. And, it turned out, a second was all she needed. When she thought of herself as Valerie, boom, Rod's hand was sweeping across her face. That name would forever be associated with a battered, broken woman. Refusing to let her past define her future, she returned to the application and continued the process of becoming Cordelia 'Celia' Barlow.
Filling out the application was a no-brainer. Dealing with government red tape was her specialty. She hadn't previously considered changing her name; it all happened so fast, but she discovered that, in as little as three weeks, it would be official.
That's great news!
While she filled out the name change forms, a question popped up asking whether she had a passport.
When would I have ever needed a passport? We never went anywhere.
Rod had been scared to death of Mexico, let alone somewhere they spoke a foreign language. Hell, she'd fought him for months just to get him to go to an RV park forty miles away. She didn't need a passport at the moment, but getting one went onto her C-O-R-D-E-L-I-A agenda as a subheading under "Become Cordelia Barlow."
She made a note to update her résumé, LinkedIn profile, Facebook, etc., with her new name.
Wait, think this through.
Do I really want Rod to know any of this? With a new name, it would be a hell of a lot harder to find me.
He can't spell LinkedIn, so that'd be okay, but no Facebook or Insta. Create
new accounts.
Celia opened her Facebook account and deleted it; the same with Instagram. Proof of the existence of someone named Valerie Stewart disappeared along with them. It brought with it a weird feeling of dissociation. She had no online presence for the first time in years.
Okay, then. Onward.
Now, she faced the most exciting task: finding an apartment. It had been ten years since she had moved, and from what she had heard from the other, younger people at the office, this would be a very different experience.
It had been ages since she had even looked at anything else because Rod wouldn't consider moving, "Too much damn lifting," he would say. A flash of anger pulsed through her, and her fist slammed onto the island.
I gotta get him out of my head. Add that to the agenda.
Refocusing, she started the online search to see how to begin this process. Several apartment search apps popped up.
This is exciting!
It astounded her how much the apartment-hunting process had evolved over the past ten years. No endless driving, just pick an app. Celia chose a site at random that had an attractive home page.
She began by completing a questionnaire detailing her preferences and desired amenities. The first question thrilled her the most: Name: Cordelia Barlow.
That felt good. I like it.
After that, most questions were standard; one particular question surprised her.
Will the occupant be the sole resident?
She had lived with her parents until after high school, when she got married the first time. After the breakup, there had been a parade of roommates, and then she married Rod. Thirteen wasted years later, and now finally on her own.
She had never considered living alone. Goosebumps broke out on her arms and neck at the idea of watching TV without someone changing the channel because what she was watching was 'fucking stupid.'
Full of spite, she grasped her newfound freedom and checked 'solo' on the application. That simple act filled her with pride and excitement.
I'm gonna like it here.
Ignoring the fear that resided in the back of her mind, a deluge of elation spilled over her. For the first time since high school graduation, the concept of a future filled with happiness, opportunity, and hope elated her.
Celia spent the next several hours searching the Houston area, researching price differences, amenities, and locations. She had a plethora of options, and knowing that lowered her anxiety level considerably.
As exciting as these tasks had become, one item on the master to-do list remained daunting: "L" — Leave Rod forever: D-I-V-O-R-C-E. (Thank you, Tammy Wynette.)
Another online search and she found the cheapest and easiest way to get it done. For about $160, she could file an uncontested divorce and, if she could get Rod to agree, the divorce could be final in 60 to 90 days.
Holy shit! Gotta love Texas.
"I can get a name change and a divorce here in less time than it would take to get a concealed-carry license in some other states."
Getting Rod to agree would be the real challenge. And getting him to agree without seeing him presented an even bigger challenge.
There's no way I'm seeing him face-to-face, not after yesterday.
Maybe she could get a process server to help her out? Looking at the clock, she decided those issues were for another day. With a determined smile, she figured that she had accomplished enough for one day, and it was time to reward herself.
It's 5 o'clock somewhere, right?
Celia opened the fridge, squirted red wine into a glass, and sat out on the balcony. She stared into the empty void that hovered over the parking lot. She threw an arbitrary middle-finger flip to the universe, hoping it would find its way to Rod, and it made her smile.
"I feel like celebrating. Who wants to party?" she shouted to the empty parking lot.
Almost on cue, the phone rang. Taking a sip of her wine, she looked at the call. It was Tommi, and Celia couldn't wait to tell her all about the past two days.