Note: Thanks to A.Boleyn for beta-ing, or Alpha-ing, or Gamma-ing and kicking my behindtill Iposted here, and to everyone at the DannyLindsayChem forum for their kind comments.
It sat there, unanswered, on her desk, like some cruel form of torture. It was, she mused, a bit like an invitation to a party which wasn't really your scene but was hosted by a good friend, so you felt obligated to go.
"Dear Ms Monroe, Thank you for your application to join New York's Crime Scene Investigation department. You have been selected for an interview. Please report to…"
Lindsay thought back to hearing about the vacancy last month. Her supervisor had silently handed her the sheet of A4, and said it had been faxed to him directly from New York. Her name had been on it, at the top, in bold letters. Someone in New York had been enquiring about sleepy old Montana's crime lab and liked what they'd heard. To think that someone out there was prepared to take a chance on a stranger from the other side of the country made her heart beat faster, and the adrenaline course through her veins. This would be the biggest opportunity ever. And the most terrifying.
Sure, she'd often complained to her family about her quiet Montana colleagues in the past, and boasted of her plans to get out there to one of the great cities and prove herself, and she'd even made a show of circling the job vacancies in the break room. At lunchtime, she ate at either famous restaurant chains or exclusive diners, because that's what city folk did. She ditched her local clothes store and started buying glossy magazines to find out what city girls wore. It was always above her Montana salary, so in the evenings, she'd scour the internet, snapping up designer copies or eBay bargains. It looked a bit out of place in Bozeman, but she didn't care.
At the weekends, she'd still meet up with her friends and they'd see a movie or go out for dinner. As they talked, she'd find herself wondering about the new friends she would make in her new life. She wondered what they'd look like, whether they were young or old, shy or outgoing, whether they'd have much in common. Look out, city people, she laughed to herself. Her Montana friends only seemed interested in Montana; growing up there, marrying a nice Montana boy, raising their kids in Montana, RV holidays and buying a boat to sail on the lakes. Wyoming was about as far-flung as they wanted to go. That kind of restriction stifled her, a bit like being shut in a cage.
Her family were her rock, and she found herself biting back tears at the thought of leaving them. They had supported her and provided her with everything she had ever needed. Holidays meant that the entire extended family descended, young kids in tow. She smiled, remembering how excited the youngest children were when she'd taken them outside to build snowmen whilst all the other adults stayed around the table talking about the mountains. She would miss hearing the kids yell "Cousin Lindsay!" as they charged through the front door.
If she woke up during the night, she'd listen to the owls hooting, the wind rustling the leaves, the small animals padding through the undergrowth. It was all so quiet. She wondered if the hum of all night traffic in the big cities was something you ever got used to. No way could she imagine being able to sleep in the city, the bright lights meant there was always someplace exciting to go. You would only have to open your window and there'd be a new adventure waiting for you.
If there was a quiet period at work or home, she'd log onto the internet and listen to some radio stations from New York. She liked the New York accent. She wondered whether she'd pick up an accent once she'd relocated. She wondered what it would sound like to hear someone say her name in this new accent. Maybe a man. Maybe someone she would be close to. Maybe someone she would wake up next to in a few months. She sighed and closed her eyes and contemplated the men of New York she'd seen in her magazines. They wore expensive suits and crisp white shirts, and were charming and old fashioned. She bet they held the doors open for you and still called ladies "Ma'am". She couldn't wait to meet a guy like that.
A phone rang at the front desk, waking her from her daydream. Her now-open eyes flew to the interview invitation and she could feel worry setting in. It would be awfully expensive to fly to New York. A six hour flight, a stopover in Minneapolis or Chicago. $600, at least. Plus accommodation, food, and entertainment. It wouldn't be difficult to run up a thousand dollars on her credit card, just for a couple of days. The sensible part of her told her to shred the letter and check the real estate guides and use the $1000 to put a deposit a nice little townhouse in Bozeman. Her adventurous side told her that she'd been wanting to go to New York since she was a little girl, and she could see all the sights whilst wearing her beloved City Girl clothes. Outside her window, she saw a girl from her small High School class pushing a stroller and trying to stop the escape of both a Labrador puppy and six bags of groceries. Realising that it could have been her, giving up her career to be a home maker, made her panic. She wasn't ready for that. It was about then that Lindsay picked up the phone and called New York to confirm that she'd be attending the interview. This was something she knew she was finally ready for.