“She’s new. I mean, she’s only a couple months old, sir.”
“I also don’t care that you have a kid.”
“Oh.” My heart sinks. I hug Laurel tighter, and all kinds of horrible thoughts fly through my head. If I have no home and I have no money, or I have to get a job at some nine-to-five place, like a grocery store or in the IT/Customer Service departmentof Tech Mart or A-Plus Mobile... Who will watch Laurel? I can’t leave her alone.
The reasons that people sacrifice the greatest thing in their lives, their whole worlds, the person they love most, suddenly loom larger than ever. I’d have to give her up. And I’d probably never get her back. I’m not legally her parent. I’m... I’m in so much trouble.
“Please, sir. I know I really screwed up, but this is a very temporary childcare snafu. You’ll see that it won’t happen again.”
“You know... You’re a good worker. That dairy-free menu disaster was fixed without any lawsuits—as far as we know.”
“That’s wonderful.” My chest loosens a little. My boss doesn’t sound angry. He sounds cold and calm, as if he’s calculating whether my career is going to live or die.
“We had an AI assistant from Raw Skillz tell a consumer that they could make chicken and pork tartar. It just gave the ‘eating undercooked foods may cause illness’ warning and proceeded to tell them to finely dice raw chicken and marinate for at least twelve hours before consuming.”
“That’s sickening, sir.”And so is this waiting.
“No one caught it until two girls in Los Angeles got salmonella and ended up in the hospital.”
“Oh, no.”
“That’s a human error that makes us look bad.”
“I would say it’s an AI error, sir.”
“It’s both!” he suddenly thunders, and Laurel wails.
That kid has really good hearing.
“But... Your work is good, and your timing is usually very good. You’re going to get a note in your employment record—but it’s going to explain the storm and power outage. Youwillneed to get a generator in your home so you can at least ensure thatyou contact someone up the chain to take the project and push it through.”
Will the company pay for that? I want to ask—but I don’t. I’m too busy realizing that my knees have turned to liquid. I can’t let this happen again.
“Congrats on the baby, Art.”
“Thank you!” I manage to sound happy.
“This is a job that’s flexible, great for parenting—as long as you get your work done. We told you that you’d work nights, long hours, weekends—and then there will be lulls between projects.”
“I know, sir, and I’m grateful. It’s been really helpful.”
“I’m glad you realize that. I hate firing guys with kids—especially before the holidays.”
The liquefaction of my knees has spread to my arms. My chest.
Is this a heart attack? I’m twenty-four, and I never even smoked!
“Are you there?”
“Yes! Right.” I gulp. “You won’t have to do that with me, sir. I’m going to make sure my daughter has the best first Christmas ever.”
I’m going to get her something I never had.
A mom.
YEAH, I’M SLEEP-DEPRIVED, currently over-caffeinated, and I have a baby with horns sleeping on my chest in one of those kangaroo pouches.
I’m doing something shady, but I’m doing it for my kid. I suddenly understand a lot of those movies where dads go stark raving loony to the point they will literally steal and kill.
