Page 14 of The Chef

What if I embarrass myself?

What if I don’t get it?

What if I can’t find another job and therefore can’t make any money?

My future seems to me like a dark abyss that I’m going to fall into, something I can’t escape from.

I’m usually someone who doesn’t show their emotions, who hides behind a cheerful mask, but truth be told, right now I’m scared. I’m devastated about being rejected for the bank loan, and I’m worried about what’s going to happen to me, but most of all, I worry for my niece and nephew and what kind of world I’m helping to raise them into when their own aunt can’t even secure a job.

So much rests on this job interview.

What a crazy day this one’s turning into. I can’t believe this morning I actually threw water over someone. It still makes me chuckle. That’s one good thing to happen today, and getting rejected at the bank was the worst.

And I still have to do this job interview.

My brother, Fisher, unlocks the front door and steps inside. I stop applying makeup to glance over at him.

Those kids better be in bed now.

My brother is a tall guy. Broad and muscular. He works in construction, so he has to be. He moved to New Water nearly ten years ago with his wife, and now I live with him and the kids.

Since the passing of his wife, he’s been going through a tough patch but, like me, he doesn’t show it. He’s a strong man having to be even stronger because of his kids. He can’t show weakness around them, he can’t show how shattered his world is because of what happened with their mom. He has to be brave. Strong. But inside he’s hurting, I can tell. You can’t hide a lot of things from your sister, especially when we’re so alike. I know him too well to understand he’s really hurting inside.

And that’s why I’ve got to be here, to help carry his load, even though he would never admit it.

“Hi,” I greet from across the room. Fisher’s house is small, the only one he could afford on his meager builder’s salary.

“Evening,” he replies. He’s still wearing his construction uniform. It’s very dirty. It’s been a long hard day for him, just like many others. Fisher works overtime to make sure he can provide for his kids and for me. It’s another reason why I need this job tonight. “How was the bank?”

I roll my eyes to suggest exasperation. “Terrible.”

“That bad, huh?”

“Yeah.”

Fisher rips off his muddy boots and squeezes past me into the kitchen, collecting a bottle of cold beer from the fridge. He gulps it down like it’s the last drop of water in the Sahara. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asks.

“Not really,” I reply. “I have to get to this interview soon.”

“It’s the evening though, I’ve never heard of a job interview happening at night. You sure it’s happening now?”

“Yeah, it’s tonight. I double-checked the email.”

“So strange. You would think now would be the busiest time for a restaurant and that they won’t have time to even talk to you, let alone call you in for an interview.”

I shrug. “It’s the time on the email. I guess this means they’re desperate for staff and that’s only a good thing, right? I guess they’ll definitely need me.”

“Sure.”

I might not seem to care as much as Fisher, but I also find it odd that the interview’s happening at this time. I did do a double-take when I read their reply to my application. I did email the restaurant back and they confirmed it was tonight.

Weird.

“At least it’s an interview,” I say. “We need the money.”

Fisher places his beer bottle onto the kitchen counter and crosses his arms. “You know you don’t need to do this.”

“I do, though.”