When the Fairytale Ends by Dwan Abrams Page B

minutes in a meditative state. She needed clarity of thought and hoped that meditation would give her some insight.
    She felt bad for Greg, yet she didn’t think he had a need to worry. With his job performance, she was convinced he’d be one of the last people to go. Even if he did get downsized, Shania had a difficult time understanding why Greg was acting like that would be the worst thing that could happen to him. She could understand Greg’s anxiety better if he didn’t have any marketable skills, but he did. She also thought it would be a good time for him to pray and ask God to reveal his life’s purpose. Rather than wallowing in self-pity, she wanted Greg to walk in faith and live his destiny.
    Maybe if they had a baby, Greg wouldn’t be so worried about his job situation, because he’d have someone else to focus on and give his energy to. She marveled at the thought of having a little one around the house. She wouldn’t mind having Greg as a stay-at-home dad. Lots of men were doing that these days, especially with corporate downsizing. Just the thought of Greg changing diapers and getting up in the middle of the night for feedings made her chuckle. To Shania, having her husband as the primary caregiver would be better than leaving her baby with a nanny or day-care provider, especially since she had no interest in giving up her career.
    She pulled the sheets up to her neck and stared at the cathedral ceiling. Knowing she could’ve stayed in bed an extra thirty minutes, she forced herself to get up, get dressed, and finally dial the governor’s secretary.
    She greeted the secretary in a professional manner on the first ring.
    â€œHi,” Shania began. “This is Shania Crinkle, owner of Eat Your Heart Out Cakes and Catering. I got your letter in the mail a few days ago, but I’ve been a bit busy, so I apologize for my tardy response.”
    â€œOh, it’s no problem at all.” The secretary went on to explain the induction ceremony and how they would have a head count of two hundred people. She informed Shania that she was one of the five candidates who the governor had decided to include in their catering pool. Whoever had the most appetizing menu and the most appealing—rich in quality samples—would be the chosen one to cater the event. The governor gave no specifics, except for the fact that he wanted finger foods—hearty finger foods that exhibited fine Southern cooking at its best. “Do you think you could have a sample menu and samples ready for taste testing by this Saturday?”
    The wedding was this Saturday, and though she hated to add this extra stress to her already hectic schedule, there was no way she could pass up this opportunity. If she was selected—no, when she was selected—only God knew what doors this induction ceremony could open for her business.
    Jittery with excitement, Shania promised the woman that she would have something ready by Saturday. She hung up and called her assistant to tell her that she’d need her to set up for the wedding while Shania met with the governor. She then went into the basement and scanned her shelves of cookbooks, pulling out every book that dealt with Southern cooking. She spent the next few hours marking potential recipes in her cookbooks and restructuring certain recipes to turn the final product into something that would constitute a finger food.
    After she had a handful of recipes in tow, she began looking through the cabinets, the pantry, the deep freezer and refrigerator for the ingredients. After she gathered everything she’d need to complete the first two recipes, she tied her apron around her waist and washed her hands.
    While working, she thought about Greg and his possible predicament. For her, she couldn’t imagine working for someone else; she never had the desire to work in corporate America. She liked being an entrepreneur. Her father had always told her