CHAPTER 1
FAITH
To the discordant symphony of car horns honking my own personal New York City soundtrack, I hurried along a rainy Madison Avenue. The soggy sock on one foot squished uncomfortably in my holey Doc Martens. I couldn’t bear to part with my favorite shoes, even though they were falling apart, like the rest of my life. They made me feel a bit like a badass, and I needed that support today. My last job-hunting stop, some fifty city blocks south of 72ndand Broadway where I started, was just down the block and around the corner. Which was timely since I needed to pee. Fingers crossed they had a bathroom, or I was in trouble.
At twenty-eight, I was supposed to be climbing the corporate ladder in marketing, but the universe had other ideas, or at least my ex-boyfriend—we’d dated for six months— and his new girlfriend did. Mark had been my boss until I’d caught his pasty ass balls-deep in his boss, the CEO of Piranha Advertising, Amanda,on his office desk. She’d promptly told me what a loser I was and fired me, and he hadn’t even apologized or bothered to remove his penis from her while she did it. Rude.
I’d had to suck it up and take it. I wasn’t sure which sucking was worse—the sucking she’d have to do to Mark from now on or the sucking up I’d endured that day. In any case, shutting up and taking it was getting old.
So here I was, about to hand out my twenty-fifth résumé for the day. I was avoiding marketing because they’d refused to give me a reference letter, as if it were my fault I’d caught them going at it. Not that I was ready for corporate life again. It was best I swam with other goldfish in a smaller pond for a while until I learned how to grow my own shark teeth.
Shutting out the pain in my aching legs, I imagined the cup of hot chocolate waiting for me in Café Nero… and the little girl’s room. Sure, I was short on money, but I deserved a treat for the effort I put in today. Paying for one hot chocolate and a donut wasn’t going to make any difference to whether I ended up having to retreat to my hometown with my tail between my legs or not.
A strong gust of chilly springtime wind buffeted me, turning my umbrella inside out, ruining my sweet musings. My hair whipped in my face as I wrestled the umbrella under control and flipped it the right way.Success! I held it at an angle to the wind. Now my face was protected, but my back was getting wet. The day that kept on giving.
I was almost at the café when my phone rang. I dodged a woman walking her dog and stopped under a maroon awning, pulling my cell from my handbag.Argh, it’s theMomster. Just what I needed at the end of a painful day—more torture. “Hey, Mom.”
“Hello, Faith, dear. I hope you’ve been job hunting.”
Not “how are you” or “how has your day been.” I pulled the phone away from my mouth and sighed, lest she hear and give mea lecture on respect and manners. I returned the phone to my ear. “Yes. I’m about to hand out my last résumé.”
“Where have you applied? I hope you haven’t been shooting too high. You don’t want to waste time.” Ever my supporter. Ha. If only.
“Two dry cleaners, three pharmacies, ten cafés, two Gristedes, a dog-walking place, and six restaurants. I have one café left.”
“Well, that’s something. Are you wearing a skirt?”
“No. It’s freezing. I’m wearing pants.”
“How many times have I told you—you’re seen as more employable if you wear a skirt. Brandy never has trouble getting a job.” Argh, double whammy—Momster wholeheartedly embracing patriarchal ideals and reminding me that my younger “stepsister” was better than me in every way.
I sucked up my angst—defending myself never ended well. If I wanted to stave off another lecture, I’d have to pacify her. “I’ll wear one next time. Promise.” I placated myself by rolling my eyes.
“You do that, and let me know how you go. Surely you’ll hear back from one of them, even if you were wearing pants. Honestly, Faith, the number of times we’ve been through this.” She sighed—a sigh I was more entitled to than her.
I didn’t tell her that I’d visited another twelve places yesterday—in my don’t-employ-me trousers—and they all said they had no openings right now. Today had been much of the same, except one of the restaurants said they might need a server, and they’d let me know within the week. Maybe this last place would be the one that said yes from the get-go. A girl could dream.
Actually, that was a lie.
According to my mother, my last boss, two of my previous boyfriends, and the rich father who rejected me and Mom before I was even born, I wasn’t good enough to dream big—there was no way I was capable or deserving. I was Miss Realistic Shoot for theKneecaps Not the Stars. I had a T-shirt made. I wasn’t even kidding.
Nevertheless, I was going to find a job if it was the last thing I ever did. I couldn’t go back home and live with Mom and her long-term partner, Bob, in Mom’s two-bedroom cottage. He loved to swan around with no shirt, his bulbous, hairy beer belly out and proud. And sometimes, he didn’t even bother with shorts. I shuddered just thinking about him in his tighty-whities. The other reason I avoided the place was that his twenty-four-year-old daughter, Brandy, lived with them. She wasn’t my biggest fan. I had no idea why, because I was always nice to her. The second bedroom, the one that used to be mine, was now hers, and she didn’t share.
I was basically on my own, except for Amy, my best friend. I’d been staying with her for the past month after Mom’s got too hairy and stepsisterish.
“Faith, are you there? Hello? Did you hang up on me again?”
“No, sorry. Just thinking. Anyway, gotta go. I’ll call you….”In a month or two.
“Okay. Chat soon. Keep your chin up, but remember—aim low, and you won’t be disappointed. You and I aren’t made for great things, darling. Love you.”
I sighed quietly—she never said that to Brandy. I hated living small, but whenever I tried to break out of that mindset, shit went south, and Mom got to say “I told you so.”
“Bye, Mom.”
I took a deep breath and tried to slip the phone back into my tote, but instead of sliding into the bag, it clipped the edge and clattered onto the pavement, face down. The clunk it made wasn’t a good clunk. Why was I so clumsy?Idiot, Faith. Be more careful.
I bent, picked it up, and turned it over, hoping for the best. Positive was my middle name.
