Fallen Woman

Chapter 2

Never in my life could I have imagined interviewing for a minimum-wage job as a mail clerk in one of the high-rises downtown. With a college degree, I'd believed a good-paying job was a guarantee. But here I was nonetheless, getting ready for an appointment and praying I'd get the job that would do nothing more than feed my children, hopefully, keep them clothed, and possibly afford Emmy the medical care she needed. Every time I dressed for one of these interviews, I remembered a time when I could afford the finer things, and I wondered if my wardrobe was what kept me from getting job after job. But surely, if someone recognized the designer, they would have the knowledge that not only was I not wearing this year's fashion, but rather five seasons ago. Pre-baby clothes, pre-recession clothes, pre-catastrophe clothes. They were merely a shell of a former life, but they were all I had.

As I put the final touches on my makeup-which I now solely reserved for interviews to conserve what little I had-I called to my two oldest. "Megan, Trace...come here, please."

The patter of feet down the hall made me smile. While my kids were my greatest stress these days, they were also the only things that brought me any joy. The twins were incredible, mature beyond their age, which was a godsend but unfair to them. At four, they shouldn't have this kind of responsibility, but I was out of options. I squatted down to make eye contact with my oldest daughter and only son. "Mommy has to go to an interview. I won't be long, I promise. Can you guys take good care of Emmy until I get home?"

They both eagerly nodded their heads-not because they cared about watching their sister, but because they were hopeful a job would change our circumstances.

"Remember the rules?" I asked, knowing they'd recite them.

Trace piped up first. "Don't answer the door. And don't leave the house."

Megan followed, "No jumping, climbing, or running. And no playing rough with the girls, Trace." Her large brown eyes stared accusingly at her brother. "And be nice to Sissy; she hurts today."

"Where's Emmy?" I asked my brunette babies. Megan pointed out the door, and I assumed that meant she was in the living room. "Okay. You guys stay with her. Remember...she's only three, and she needs you when Mommy isn't home." I hated this. I couldn't stand it. Five years ago, if anyone had told me I'd be leaving my four-year-old twins to watch their sick three-year-old sister, I would have laughed in their face and told them to call child services if it happened. Now, I prayed no one would ever find out.

Desperation was a crazy motivator.

Settling the kids on the couch with a DVD in the player, I promised I'd be back before their movie was over. I closed the apartment door behind me, locked it, checked the lock-multiple times-and dashed off to my interview. Luckily, the bus was on time. I had cut it close, but with no other mode of transportation, it was either risk it or spend an extra hour walking, which meant another hour my children were home alone, and I couldn't risk leaving them that long.

When I arrived at my stop, I stood on the sidewalk, mentally preparing myself. With my game face on, I stepped into the reception area of the Faston Building. My heels clicked on the marble floors, the noise echoing around the deserted lobby. I followed the sign to the Human Resources Department located on the second floor, hopeful this would be the one. The moment I pulled open the door, my heart sank. At least ten other people seemed to be waiting on interviews as well, for what I assumed was one available opening.

No sooner had I taken a seat among the other desperate souls, an older lady popped her head out from behind a closed door and called my name. She looked me up and down before opening the door wide enough for me to pass. Without so much as a hello, she pointed to the empty chair in front of her cluttered desk and then sat down opposite me. I smiled graciously, hoping she'd soften up a bit, but no such luck.

"You do know this job is for a mail clerk, right?" she sneered at me as though she couldn't fathom why I was sitting across from her.

"Yes, ma'am."

Taking her glasses off, she laid them down on the desk to clasp her hands in front of her, leaning on her forearms to get closer to me. She really shouldn't have had onions with her lunch-her breath was unbearable. "Why on Earth do you want this job? You have a college degree from Dartmouth for the love of God. I mean, I realize you haven't worked in a while, but still-this is scraping the bottom of the barrel for a girl like you." Her brow rose in question, waiting for my response.

I took a deep breath, and on my exhale, released all the pretentious crap I would normally spew, and instead, I opted for brutal honesty-almost. "I'm a widow with three children-four-year-old twins and a three-year-old. My family lost everything in the recession, and when I lost my husband, things went further than just south. They became dismal. I'm living in low-income housing and don't get enough food stamps for us all to eat. I have no car and depend on public transportation." I stared her straight in the eye, pausing for just a moment. "I'm desperate, and jobs are scarce. Every single person sitting out there"-I motioned to the lobby I just came from-"is desperate, too. I'm just hoping someone will recognize I might be a valuable asset down the road and take the chance today." I didn't move...didn't even blink. I'd managed to hold on to my most valuable secret, but the most critical to my finding employment-Emmy. I held her stare until she broke it.

"You're going to hate this place," she blurted at me before casting her gaze down to her drawer. "And I bet you don't make it two weeks." She mumbled the words to herself more so than to me. Then she pulled out a folder. The Faston logo was embossed in gold on the shiny black cover. I stared intently at those shimmering foil letters, praying it contained the keys to a paycheck. "Complete all this before your orientation on Monday. Bring it back with you and be here at ten am. After that, the hours are nine am to five pm. I don't put up with being absent or tardy, so make sure you have your bases covered." Instead of releasing the folder when I reached for it, she held my stare. "Don't make me regret this."

"I promise you won't. Thank you."

She handed over the paperwork, and I let out the breath I didn't realize I'd been holding before she shooed me away and out her door. I left the building as quickly as possible to keep the nameless woman from changing her mind. Finally secured in the elevator, I watched the smile spread across my face in the mirrored doors. I knew this wasn't a six-figure salary-hell, it wouldn't even pay the bills-but I'd be able to pay my rent, buy groceries, and get Emmy what she needed...and that felt pretty dang good.

The elevator opened into the lobby, and I stepped out. For just a moment, I allowed myself to dance a little jig once the doors closed behind me. My heels clicked on the marble like a maraca. I had foolishly believed I was alone until I saw the man snickering by the door. His face filled with humor as though my happy dance had made his day. Embarrassed, my cheeks flushed, and he opened the large glass door, motioning for me to go through. There was nothing special about his attire, he didn't even say hello, but he had the most haunting gray eyes I ever had the privilege of staring into, even if it was only for a split second. And his quirky smile warmed me from the inside out. Once out of the building, I chanced a glance over my shoulder only to find him still rooted in the same spot, holding the door for no one. He gave me a quick wave, and I tossed my long, dark hair back and kept walking. Maybe I wasn't dead after all.

Reaching my front door, I unlocked the deadbolts and scurried inside to find my kids still sitting exactly where I'd left them. Their little heads turned to the door, startled when I came in, and when they saw the joy on my face, they rushed to me, knowing I had good news. Swarmed in baby hugs, I told them, "Mommy got a job!"