Seven years ago: Houston, Texas.
Valerie Stewart tossed the bag of popcorn into the microwave and pushed the cracked, plastic start button. Staring into the drab living room, she watched her husband, Rod, his wavy brown hair brushing the collar of his shirt, his shoulders rippling underneath. He held the TV remote, searching through streaming platforms, a simple, contented grin on his face.
Her arms were folded across her chest as a grimace crossed her face. He makes life so simple—sit down, pick a show, kick back, enjoy. Rinse and repeat.
She envied the ease, the lack of yearning, his contentment with the status quo. Surveying the dingy apartment filled her heart with disdain. Faux linoleum countertops, sheet vinyl flooring warped in the corners, and a broken dishwasher greeted her tepid gaze.
This is the dream? I don't think so.
Unlike Rod, restlessness gnawed at her soul. She was tired of waiting for her life to begin; if anything was going to get them out of this rut, out of this apartment, it would be up to her to make it happen. She'd planned this quiet evening together for this very reason: to maneuver them into a conversation Rod wouldn't be able to shrug off.
The microwave dinged, and she pulled out the steaming bag by the top corner, dropping it onto the countertop. Using the kitchen mitts, she ripped open the bag and poured the steaming contents into a large bowl. Adding salt, because you can't have too much salt on popcorn, she shook it up. Scooping up the bowl, she drifted toward the sofa, nibbling as she went.
They had chosen to binge one of their favorite shows, Dexter, about a serial killer with a heart of gold; they had both already seen the entire series but decided it was time to watch it again.
Hesitant, she knew from past experience that if she didn't approach this conversation the right way, he'd just zone out.
As Rod navigated to the streaming service, Valerie shook her long blonde hair, letting it fall across her shoulders in the way she knew he loved. She cleared her throat and sat her six-foot, slightly overweight frame close to Rod, their thighs touching. "You know, honey, I've been thinking. We should be doing a lot better."
Not breaking his focus, Rod replied, "What do you mean?"
Valerie pulled her legs under her, balancing the bowl of popcorn on their conjoined thighs. "I mean, we're doing okay, I guess, but I really want to get a house, and maybe we can talk about a kid or two? You know, like real grown-ups. I've been on the pill since I was 18; I don't even remember what not being on it is like."
"Shit," Rod guffawed. "You know what a house costs these days? No way we can afford it, and kids are even worse." He found Dexter and started the first episode. Sitting back on the couch, Rod grabbed the bowl and plopped it onto his lap, munching as the familiar, eerie theme music set the mood.
Valerie pursed her lips and tried again. "It's just...we've been married for six years now and in this apartment for three. Remember, this was only supposed to be until we could get a house. We haven't really saved anything. We gotta do that;
I don't want to be here forever."
Rod grumbled. "Look, we'll do it when we can. In the meantime, let's enjoy the things we have. Our life isn't so bad. We both have trucks; we have the boat. With our jobs, we make our own schedule, take time off when we want. I think it's pretty great." He sat back, ready to watch. "Speaking of which, Mark and I are heading to the lake tomorrow. He wants to try out his new ski, and I told him I'd take him out."
And I wonder why we can't save a down payment—that stupid boat.
"Yeah, whatever. We're paying for it; we may as well get what we can out of it." Shifting her hip, she reached out and set her hand on his thigh. "Still... I was thinking," enthusiasm bubbled into her inflection, "I know you're trying to start your own construction company, and I totally support that, but in the meantime, what if I went back to school? I always wanted to be a CPA. I could get my accounting degree; it would bring in a lot more money. If I did it online, I could still keep slinging drinks at CJ's; I mean, the tips are great if nothing else."
Hitting the pause button, Rod turned to her, bewildered. "Go back to school?
Jesus, Val, you're thirty-two. You're too old to go back to school."
Valerie bristled. "I am not. Lots of people go back to school in their 30s."
Rod's face scrunched up. "That's just crazy. Go back to school. What the hell? There's no reason anyway. I got this big job lined up, and when it happens, we'll be rolling in dough. It'll be the start of Rockstar Construction. I'm talking to the guy tomorrow. You'll see."
Didn't you just say you were going to the lake?
"You know, I do a lot more at CJ's than just serve drinks," she tried a different tack. "Since Billy made me co-manager, I handle end-of-night reconciliations and Z-Reports. I run payroll. I do all of the tax withholding. Geez, who do you think opened and organized their entire QuickBooks account? I have a knack for numbers, you know. I could get a degree; this is something I can do."
Rod squirmed in his seat. "Sweetheart, I'm right on the verge. Gimme a damn chance, okay?" His face pinched again, and his voice reeked of annoyance. "Do we have to talk about this now? I mean... Dexter?" He pointed to the TV. Hoping her zeal would rub off on him, Valerie leaned in. "I've been looking at online classes, and I can do it pretty easily. I just don't see our situation ever changing unless we do something to change it."
Rod pushed her hand off his thigh and stood up. Crossing into the kitchen, she could tell from his expression that he had something to say. He grabbed a cold beer and turned to her. "College is really hard. You never went, but I did. If I hadn't wrecked my knee, I could've kept my golf scholarship and maybe would've finished. But it wasn't in the cards." He popped open the beer bottle and took a deep swig. Looking at her, he dropped his head, conveying a gesture of regret tinged with deep-felt honesty. "Look, don't take this the wrong way, but let's be honest—do you really think you can do college? All you've ever been is a cocktail waitress." Whoa!
Valerie fell back into the sofa as if she'd been shot in the chest. The word cocktail landed like a label stamped across her forehead, as though it explained everything about her and excused him from taking her seriously.
"Is that what you think of me?" she stuttered.
"I'm not saying you're stupid or anything; I'm just saying you haven't ever done anything else."
Crossing back, Rod hit play, and the eerie opening sequence of Dexter, season 1, episode 1 began.
There was no shame in waitressing. She worked hard, paid the bills that kept them afloat. Rod's plans ran on empty promises. There was a bigger version of her life waiting somewhere; there had to be. A life where she didn't apologize for wanting stability, or education, or a future.
Thirty-two years old, and we've got nothing. Not even close to where I
thought I'd be.
"But maybe I could just try..."
"Look, I said there's no reason to do it, okay? Enough." He shouted her down every time.
"I just thought it'd be worth a try," she whispered.
Rod smirked and shook his head. "Whatever."
But her frustration couldn't mask the doubt Rod's words had brought with them.
"All you've ever been is a cocktail waitress."
What if I fail? What if he's right? What if I'm not smart enough?
Her stomach rolled over... along with her determination. She swallowed hard.
Valerie had hoped Rod would support her in this decision, but of course, he hadn't. And there was no arguing with him.
Dead topic. I'll have to think of something else.
Two weeks later, Valerie sat at their kitchen island scrolling through job sites. An opening had popped up at the Texas Department of Licensing and Registration office: Assistant to the Director. She read through the job requirements and, with a little fudging, realized she could fulfill most of them.
Luna works there. Maybe she could help?
Luna Velasco, her friend from the gym, worked in HR at the TDLR. They had lunch a few times a month and had developed a nice friendship.
On a whim, she filled out the application, attached the resume she doctored to include her computer and accounting experience, along with the co-manager title, and submitted it. Then, she sent a quick text to Luna telling her what she had done.
Three days later... Valerie again sat at the kitchen counter, a bottle of beer in hand, beaming. Her head shook in disbelief.
Funny how things work. Life is stepping all over you, and then, out of nowhere, a ray of sunshine breaks through.
Mere hours after Val submitted her application, her phone rang. HR at the Texas Department of Licensing and Registration was on the line. Luna had lined up an in-person interview. She'd gone in that morning—one interview, and bang, she was hired on the spot. By the time the shock wore off, Val was the Assistant to the Director. An amazing opportunity. The sense of achievement that came with the hiring put her in very unfamiliar territory: the lead role in a success story.
The front door opened, and Rod walked in.
"Hey, hon, I'm home," he shouted. The second he saw her face, he knew something was up. "Well, you look nice, all dressed up. What's with the shiteating grin? Did Billy G finally give you a raise?"
Valerie could hardly contain herself. "Way better," her voice sounded like a lottery winner. "Matter of fact, I gave CJ's my notice."
"You did what? What the hell, Val?" Panic raced across his eyes.
"A few days ago, on a lark, I filled out an application for a real job. They called me in this morning, and after the interview, which I guess went really well, they hired me. You're looking at the new Assistant to the Director of the Texas Department of Licensing and Registration! Ha, say that three times fast." Rod's eyes opened wide, and his face filled with disbelief. "Holy hell, how'd that happen?"
"I don't know, I just went in and talked with the guy. He's real nice, used to be a state senator. I think Luna might have greased the wheels. They were really impressed with all the extra work I do at CJ's, including the accounting and computer stuff." She emphasized her additional talents. "I start next week." She tilted her head and studied Rod's expression. He was not a guy who took to change easily.
After a moment, he spoke. "What's it pay? It better be more than CJ's."
Valerie smiled, "Actually, it's a salaried position, an actual 9-to-5er. Plus, I get benefits, you know, like insurance, and dental, and everything. And you're covered too. So, at the end of the day, I'm making way more than at CJ's, and it's steady; no shifting schedule, no nights; we'll get to spend more time together. It'll be great. Plus, there's room for advancement. I may have just started a real career! It's damn amazing, babe." Valerie jumped up, hugged Rod, wrapped her arms around him, and lifted him off the ground.
Once she released him from her death grip of joy, he stepped back. "You know, without the tips, we're going to have to declare all this income on our taxes. It may turn out to be less money in our pockets."
Valerie stared at Rod. "What? Who cares about the taxes? It's a new job that can lead to a career and, for once, some financial security. I'm totally thrilled." She threw her arms in the air and twirled. "When have we ever even had insurance? You can get your cracked tooth fixed... finally. This is great news, and you need to be happy for me." She playfully poked him in the chest to emphasize each word.
Rod wavered, "No, of course, I'm happy for you; it's just a big adjustment.
I'm not used to buying my own beer, you know." The whimper of disapproval slithered out of his mouth.
"We can afford to buy our own beer. This'll be fantastic. Just wait and see."
Valerie skipped over to Rod, leaned down, Rod being three inches shorter, and kissed him on the forehead, then ran into the bedroom. As she was leaving, she shouted over her shoulder, "I gotta get some new clothes."