The Life List by Lori Nelson Spielman Read Free Book Online Page B

fourteen-year-old doesn’t want a horse? What little girl doesn’t want to be a schoolteacher and have babies and a dog and a beautiful house?”
    Shelley wiggles her outstretched fingers. “Let’s see that list again.” I pass it to her, and she mumbles as she peruses it. “S TAY FRIENDS WITH C ARRIE N EWSOME , FALL IN LOVE , HAVE A RELATIONSHIP WITH MY DAD. ” She looks up. “These are a cinch.”
    I narrow my eyes. “My father’s dead, Shelley.”
    “She obviously wants you to make peace with him. You know, visit his grave site, plant some flowers. And look, you’ve alreadyaccomplished number seventeen, fall in love. You’re in love with Andrew, right?”
    I nod, though for some reason my insides freeze up. I can’t remember the last time we actually spoke the words I love you . But that’s perfectly natural. After four years, it’s implied.
    “Then go to Mr. Midar’s office and tell him. And tonight, look up this Carrie Newsome chick on Facebook. Send a few messages. Reconnect. Bingo! Another score.”
    My breath catches. I haven’t spoken to Carrie since she left my house, hurt and humiliated, nearly nineteen years ago. “What about number twelve, help poor people? That’s not so hard. I’ll donate to Unicef or something.” I look to my friends for reassurance. “Don’t you think?”
    “Absolutely,” Megan says. “You’ll finish quicker than a horny frat boy.”
    “But that damn baby,” I say, pinching the bridge of my nose. “And the live performance and the teaching job. I swore I’d never again set foot on a stage or in a classroom.”
    Megan grips her wrist and pulls, an annoying habit she thinks will lengthen her arms. “Forget about a teaching job. Just sub for a few days, maybe a week or two. You get through it, and voilà! That one’s in the bag.”
    I mull it over. “A substitute teacher? My mom never said I had to have my own classroom.” A slow smile makes its way across my face. I lift my latte. “Here’s to you, girls. On Monday afternoon, martinis are on me. By then I’ll have an envelope or two from Mr. Midar.”

CHAPTER FIVE

    I stop at the florist Monday morning and pick up a bouquet of wildflowers before heading straight to Mr. Midar’s office. I figure I’ll treat myself each time I accomplish one of that girl’s life goals. On impulse, I pick up a bouquet for Midar, too.
    As the elevator rises to the thirty-second floor, a mixture of anticipation and excitement bubbles up inside me. I can’t wait to see his face when I tell him what I’ve accomplished. But when I burst into the swanky office and stride up to Claire’s desk, she looks at me as if I’m insane.
    “You want to see him now? Absolutely not. He’s working on a huge case.”
    As I turn to leave, Midar shoots from his office like a jack-rabbit from its hole. He searches the waiting room and breaks into an adorable grin when he spots me. “Ms. Bohlinger! I thought I heard your voice! Come in.”
    Claire looks on with her mouth agape as Mr. Midar waves me into his office. I hand him the wildflowers as I pass in front of him.
    “For me?”
    “I’m feeling generous.”
    He chuckles. “Thank you. Decided not to splurge on a vase, though, huh?”
    I fight back a smile. “You’re on your own. I’m unemployed, as you probably know.”
    He searches the office until he lands on a ceramic urn of silk flowers. “Yeah, that’s a bummer about the job. Your mother plays hardball.” He yanks out the artificial flowers and tosses them into his wastebasket. “Gotta get some water. Be right back.”
    He takes the urn with him and I’m left alone in his office, giving me a chance to check out his digs. I pass by the floor-to-ceiling window, admiring a southern view that spans from Millennium Park all the way to the Adler Planetarium. I slow when I near his massive walnut desk, littered with three substantial sets of files, his computer, and a coffee-stained mug. I search for framed pictures of the