Child support would have bailed me out in a time like this, something I tried not to think about as I prepped breakfast for Mia in our tiny but lush kitchen.I took a deep breath as I ran my fingers across the rosemary plant on my countertop, letting its lovely fragrance calm my nerves.The bodega down the street from my apartment said they could use someone to slice meat part-time, but it was minimum wage and wouldn't even cover half my rent.The temp agency had a few openings for data entry, but they could only promise part-time for the first six months.I briefly thought I could take both positions to cobble together rent money, until I found out their schedules overlapped and went past the child care window of Little Sprouts.
I was running out of options, and my rent wasn’t going to pay itself.I took another whiff of the rosemary.
"Mommy, we have pancakes?"Mia asked from her spot at our tiny kitchen table, coloring in the princess book I'd bought her from the dollar store.
"Not today, baby.How about cereal?"
She wrinkled her nose but didn't complain.At three years old, she already knew well enough that disappointment was part of life.Today it was only getting cereal when she wanted pancakes, but for the past three years it had been wanting her father and getting absolutely nothing from him.The thought made my chest ache.
My phone buzzed with a text from Zoey, my best friend and current lifeline.
ZOEY:Any luck with the job hunt?
CLARA: Absolutely not.Everyone either pays 1991 wages or has never heard of adults who pay rent.
ZOEY: Want me to watch Mia this evening so you can hit more places?Maybe try the bartender route.
I glanced at my daughter, who was happily humming while she colored.Zoey had already done so much for us—watching Mia when I had interviews, bringing us groceries when she knew money was tight, never once making me feel like the charity case I'd become.
CLARA: Thanks but I think I'm going to try something different today.Going back to Elite Events.Maybe I can convince them to give me another shot.
Even as I typed it, I knew it was a bad idea.Brenda had made it clear that I was persona non grata.But I was way past being picky and becoming desperate enough to try anything.Anything except take Mr.Grossface from the Nightingale event up on his offer.
ZOEY: Are you sure???They fired you for getting groped, remember?
CLARA: They fired me for leaving to pick up Mia from school when she was sick.But maybe if I talk to the owner directly instead of Brenda...
My correction felt a bit like splitting hairs, but I was out of ideas at this point.Zoey’s idea to try the bartender route wasn’t a horrible one, but I wanted to actually see my daughter during the evenings.Desperation began to swirl inside me, making my limbs feel weak.
ZOEY: Girl, you deserve better than groveling to people who treated you like garbage.
CLARA: I deserve a lot of things.But right now I need a paycheck.
After dropping Mia off at daycare—and praying my account wouldn't overdraw when they processed the weekly fee—I took the subway to Midtown.Elite Events and Catering was located in a narrow building on West 38thStreet, squeezed between a dry cleaner and a deli, the kind of place that looked sketchy from the outside but somehow managed to exclusively cater events for Manhattan's high flyers.
The receptionist, Jessica, looked up from her phone when I walked in.Her eyes widened slightly."What are you doing here?”
"I'm here to see Mr.Castellanos.About getting my job back."
She looked confused."Do you have an appointment?"
"No, but I just need a moment.Can you let me see him?"
"He’s with someone else right now," Jessica said, frowning.“But maybe you and Brenda can figure something out…” She turned toward the hallway and I leapt forward.
“No!Don’t let Brenda know I’m here.”I heard the desperation in my voice and straightened, trying to compose myself.“I don’t need to talk toher.I need to talk to Mr.Castellanos.I’ll wait for him.”
But Jessica looked doubtful.“I still think Brenda can help…”
Footsteps sounded down the hallway, and then Brenda appeared, as though the mere mention of her name in the building had summoned her from whatever circles of hell she typically called home.Her face fell when she spotted me.
"Are you kidding me right now?"she said, her voice dripping with disbelief.“What on earth areyoudoing here?”
"I’m not here to cause trouble,” I stammered, “I just need five minutes with Mr.Castellanos—"
"He's in a meeting.And even if he wasn't, there's no way in hell we'd need anything from you.We’d never rehire someone who walked out on a job."
Exasperation finally overrode my attempt at humility."Brenda.I had a family emergency.My daughter was sick."
