Carol Johnson's Normal Day

Word Count: 988

"I'm an orphan. I cannot believe that at 37 years old, both of my parents decided to die." I took a sip of the mimosa that had been placed in front of me by the waiter. Father had always taught that ladies wait until after noon to drink but if I couldn't then to disguise my drink with something else, thus my mimosa. Champagne hidden behind orange juice was a fabulous idea, whoever created it must have been a genius. And a really classy lady. "How will I support myself? There is no one around to take care of me."

"Carol, your father left you 500 million dollars. I am pretty sure that you are going to be just fine." My best friend Jeff Smart said in a voice that told me he was irritated. I didn't what he had to be so upset about, not only was he a man but both of his parents were still alive. He was taken care of. I, on the other hand, was single and daddy had warned me before he died that I should get married. I was too focused on making Mommy proud though. Unconsciously I rubbed my hands together and made a mental note to find out where the lotion that I had used came from because my hands were as smooth as a baby's bottom and I liked the way that felt.

"He didn't leave me 500 million, he only left me 475 million. I am basically destitute. How does one live on such a small amount of money?" Jeff's face contorted into some sort of weird shape, I couldn't tell if he was going to help me figure out how to survive or if he was going to do a mercy killing and let me out of this life. "Maybe once I become President, I won't have to worry as much."

"Do you know how much I make? I make 75,000 a year and I am grateful for every dime of it. There are many people out there who make less than that. People who have to choose between keep a roof over their heads or eating dinner." I tuned Jeff out and looked at the waiter, he had blond hair and a butt that nearly burst the seams of his black dress pants. For a while I forgot that Jeff was even there, his poor talk threatened to bring down my buzz. Finally though I decided that I needed to stop staring at the waiter, at some point it was rude. "... Running for President isn't some kind of joke, this is serious business."

"What? Oh I can't believe that you are so poor. Here," I dug into my purse and found the wad of cash that Accountant had gotten for me the previous night. Jeff looked at me with a mix of anger and confusion. "I can't have one of my best friends near the poverty level. Sure I might only be middle class but I can certainly help out my friend."

He waved the waiter over and asked for the check. My face flushed hot with embarrassment as he gave me a sly smile, it was as if he knew that I had been checking him out. There was no way I would be able to speak again until after we had left the restaurant, so I lifted my mimosa to my lips and let the liquid fill my mouth. The beautiful way the flavors blended together made me think about opening a diner where I only served the breakfast drink. Jeff spoke again, trying to keep his voice steady, "Do you realize how offensive you are? You think with that high pitched voice that you can get away with anything but people will hold you accountable for the things that you say and do, especially if you do run for President."

"What? Oh honey, my Daddy used to tell me that there's nothing money can't buy. Even votes, you know that my Mommy almost won the election because Daddy spent a lot of money on her campaign. Everyone says that if that inconvenient shooting hadn't happened, then she would have been President. She would have been Hillary before there was a Hillary." I pulled out my phone and turned on the camera to see if I had anything in my teeth. My dark brown hair was still pulled into the pony tail that I had put it in before I left the house. My makeup was flawless as always, Daddy insisted that not only did I learn how to put it on but also what the best brands were. He taught me that you never knew when or where I would meet my future husband. The only part of my look that I wasn't happy with was the stupid business suit that my advisers had suggested I wear. It was black pants and a blazer, paired with a white, silk blouse. I was dying to get into some color like what my Mommy used to wear but everyone thought that was a bad look. "Do you want to go shopping? This outfit is bringing me down, and I want to be happy for my interview later with that hot little stud muffin, Ronan Farrow."

"You're being interviewed by Ronan Farrow? When did this happen and why wasn't I invited?" Jeff perked up. I knew he would want to come with me, once he heard that I was going to be talking to his celebrity crush. "Maybe I should come with you, you know in order to help you avoid embarrassing yourself."

"Whatever honey. I just want a cute new outfit, and maybe some new perfume." I pulled out the bottle of Vanilla body spray that I had taken from my Mother's room after her funeral. I spritzed some on and thought about all the times that we had shared. They weren't many, since she died when I was only 14, but I cherished each memory. Pushing those thoughts out of my mind, I put on a smile and said , "Let's go! We only have a little bit of time before Ronan!"