“Oh.”
“Hadn’t even thought about that, had you?”
“Well, no.”
“Then there’s the fact that you planned to sell this house and send me ... where?”
“I don’t know.”
“Exactly.”
I looked at my laptop screen and pretended to concentrate even though I couldn’t. I was so upset that I accidentally deleted an email from Target. He kept staring at me with an anguished look I knew only too well. For half a second, I expected him to call the whole thing off.
And a part of me hoped he would, that we could just go back to what we were before. I could forgive a midlife peccadillo, couldn’t I? It wouldn’t be the easiest thing, but if it were just ... sex? Weweremarried, after all, and I had sworn ’til death do we part, too.
Can you ever trust him again?
No.
“Vivian, do you ever think ...?”
He didn’t finish the question, but something in my expression must’ve shown him the entire conversation I’d just had with myself.
“Never mind. I’m going for a run, but I’ll get everything out of the house soon.”
“Thank you,” I said.
I’d won.
But it didn’t feel very much like winning.
After lunch I started walking into establishments to look for a job. Everyone had gone to electronic applications, and managers seemedirritated to stop what they were doing to talk to me—if they saw me at all. Well, this was completely different from the last time I’d applied for jobs.
The whole thing was an exercise in eating humble pie, and I didn’t get to have it à la mode.
Two hours into my quest, I decided to drown my dejection with a latte at Starbucks. I looked at the green-and-white cup. I’d probably be doing well to make the cost of my coffee per hour. Most places told me they weren’t hiring. Target had had the audacity to tell me I was overqualified. I told the manager on duty, a tattooed muscular man named Joe, I wasn’t overqualified. Nay, nay, I’d been studying that store’s layout for years. They’d be lucky to have me.
Joe laughed and said he might call me back when they geared up for Christmas. I didn’t believe him, so I sweet-talked him into giving me his email address so I could check in about openings at the end of the month. He probably wouldn’t answer his emails.
Then again, it would be my luck to be working retail at Christmas.
I shuddered at the thought.
So far, I had looked at a daycare job, but the pay there was too dismal to deal with diapers and would barely cover the gas I’d need to drive there and back.
I had stopped at an establishment known for waffles and hash browns but then had a flashback to a high school job where I’d worked the breakfast shift at a fast-food restaurant and come home each day with a layer of grease on my arms. I’d almost been too afraid to put my uniform in the dryer for fear that I’d start a fire.
Of course, I could always look into real estate. Yet another way I could follow in Mom’s footsteps, a prospect that didn’t seem anywhere near as awful as it might have a month before.
My mind traveled back to the Starbucks where I was sitting at a high bar overlooking the espresso machine. The barista leisurely wiped down both machine and counters, everyone apparently served and chatting. I decided to take advantage of the lull.
“Are y’all hiring?” I asked.
He chuckled. “Not at the moment.”
Well, it was worth a try.
I’d just have to savor my coffee since it would be the last cup I’d be able to purchase for a while.
