by Piper Rayne
“Then it looks like you’ve been out of work for what… ten years?” she asks.
“Something like that.” I shrug. “I probably should have thought of that before agreeing to manage his parents medical supply business.”
“Probably… Maybe one day you’ll tell me why you don’t want to use them as references.” Ally makes a gasp face that could rival any horror movie actress. Okay, maybe just a B-movie but still… She could let up a little.
“I want to see what I can get on my own, without his family name.” I flick the metal tab on the soda can. “Fresh start, right?”
“That kind of gap in your job history can be tricky to get around in an interview.” Ally chews on the inside of her cheek. “I’m going to need to think about how to work around that.” She elbows me away from the sink faucet to wash her hands.
“You’re as bad as the kids.” I laugh and pass her the hand towel. “So, I have ten years of improving their sales and managing their employees. For what? No experience. If only I could…” What if I don’t have to get around it? It’s a brilliant idea. Most of my brilliant ideas eventually get us into trouble, but they work. For a while.
“I know that look.” Ally cocks her head and grabs the last piece of cheese bread then tosses the box in the trash. “What do you have in mind?”
“Well, I do have the experience.” I scrub the dish a little too hard and dishwater splashes me right in the face. Pfft. Gross.
Ally laughs and tosses me the entire roll of paper towels from the table. I’ll probably need every single one of them too.
“As I was saying…” I swipe one of the towels across my face and spit out the little fuzzies it leaves behind. “I have the experience. I just can’t put down any of my references; but I could put my sister’s name and number down. Since our names don’t match anymore, they’ll never know.” I flash my best cheesy fake smile and dab at the water spots scattered across my heather gray sweatshirt.
“I’m not married yet.” Ally frowns and snaps me on the arm with the hand towel. “I’m still a Woodward.” Her dark eyes flash with a look of mischief that I know all too well.
“They don’t have to know that.” I smile wider hoping that she’ll take me up on the offer instead of whatever plan she’s devising.
Ally rolls her eyes and shakes her head. “I don’t know the first thing—”
“I know.” I don’t give her the chance to finish that sentence. “I’ll give you my list of qualifications and all the keywords to use.” I clasp my hands together and drop to my knees in a praying gesture. “Please.”
Ally scowls as she tilts her head to the side. “Fine,” she sighs and finally gives in. “I won’t be the one to get nailed for lying on my resume. What do I have to lose?” She sticks her tongue out at me.
“Thank you!” I jump up clapping and squealing. I need this. “It’s not lying, it’s just omitting unnecessary details.” I wrap my sister in a bear hug and lift her off her feet. “I promise, I’ll pay you back.” Somehow.
“You don’t have to pay me back.” Ally looks like she did in fifth grade when I told her that our dog had really eaten her homework, which was due that day. “Don’t do this for me. Do it for you and the kids.”
“I know.” I nod and know that my sister is absolutely right. As much as I want to pay her back for everything, this has to be about my kids and giving them a strong foundation for our fresh start together. Ally never asks for anything in return, no matter how many times she steps up to help, but that won’t keep me from trying to pay her back. “But you know me, and you know that I will.” This is going to work. Hope. That’s something I haven’t felt in a long time.
“Fine. Let’s get to work.” Ally sinks into the cushions on the couch with her laptop while I sink the last dish into dishwater.
“What are you doing?” I try to crane my neck for a peek at the screen. No luck.
“Sprucing up your resume.” Ally’s fingers click away at the keyboard.
“What?” I lean further away from the sink. “How’d you know the password to my Cloud?” Am I really that predictable?
She wrinkles her nose at me. “You’ve had the same password since high school; and yes, I knew it then too.” Her fingers go back to flying across the keyboard.
“Oh.” I guess I am that predictable.
“Don’t stress. Predictability is a great thing, especially on a job application.” Ally’s eyes sparkle as her smile widens. “I think I’m almost done.”
“I don’t trust you right now.” I dry off my hands and snatch the laptop from my sister. She gasps as I scan the qualifications listed under my name.
“You might want to check the spacing now. I think you just made me hit the clear formatting button,” she says as she reaches for her cup.
“It’s fine.” I don’t know why I didn’t trust her to begin with. “You’re right. My resume looks so much better, with ‘manager of multi-unit teams’ on it. Ally!”
“I know.” She takes a sip of her soda. “You can thank me later.”
“I would totally hire me if I saw this come across my desk.” I scowl. “But none of this is even remotely close to accurate. Aren’t you the one that said something about getting in trouble for lying on my resume?” I let my eyes widen in feigned shock. “Quality control?” What the actual hell?
“Check and check.” Ally snorts from trying to hold back a laugh. “You are a bit of a control freak sometimes.”
“I…” Ugh. The stack of color-coded and organized papers on the table is mocking me as I speak. “I totally am. Thanks, Ally.” I stick out my tongue and scrunch up my nose. “But I haven’t done quality control for a business and I’m not sure that lying about my qualifications is exactly the same as just avoiding references who might rather see me in the welfare line.”
“Are you sure?” She stifles another laugh, with more success this time. “What’s next? Time management?”
“That might be a stretch.” Ugh. Ugh. Ugh. “It’ll be fine, right?”
“Sure. We all have to pad our qualifications a bit at some point.”
“Right.”
“Kind of like a first date.” Ally grins. “Now that’s something we need to really talk about. You can’t sit here pining away forever.”
“I have no intentions of pining away at all,” I sigh. What the hell have I gotten myself into? I’ve unleashed Ally—The Fixer—and I’m not sure I’m prepared for the sheer force of Ally on one of her missions. The last time she decided to fix someone up, they wound up married and are expecting their first child in the spring. I’m definitely not ready for that much of a fresh start. If Ally only knew the truth about why I left Ed, maybe she’d ease up a bit. I’ll tell her one day, but that day is not today. “But I have to find a job first.”
Ally’s face scrunches up in disapproval. “Are you sure you have to do that—first?” she drags out the last word for emphasis.
“No job means no dating. First things first.” I stick out my chin in defiance. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t lonely. The decision to leave Ed wasn’t easy and, when he found out what my plans were, it became even more difficult. I still can’t believe he stepped aside and let me pass through the door with our kids that night. It makes my stomach flip every time I think about it. I’m not sure why. Something just doesn’t feel right about it. I still want the fairy tale, even if fairy tales aren’t meant for small-town single moms. It doesn’t matter in the long run. I’ll dig in and find a job and give my kids the best life I possibly can, even if that means doing it on my own.
Ally lets out a super dramatic sigh. “Fine. There has to be at least one job that you qualify for. Tulsa is a pretty big city, and it’s close enough that the drive won’t be an issue.”
“Okay, there are jobs.”
“Then what’s the problem?” She looks genuinely confused.
“Nothing that will pay enough for me to take care of the kids.” My nose burns as I fight back tears.
They’re already stinging the corners of her eyes, again. “Plus, I really need to stay in Broken Arrow so I can be close to the kids.”
“Aw…” Ally slides from the couch onto the floor beside me and wraps her arms around me. “You know my job is helping people find their career match.” Her chin rests on top of my head.
“You’re a school guidance counselor.” I wonder if she can hear the scowl in my voice as my face is buried in her shoulder. “And I did not end up on the bestseller’s list like you predicted when I let you do my career assessment for your school project.”
“True.” She pats me on top of my head and pushes me up so she can grab the laptop. She scrolls through the want-ads pulled up in the browser’s second tab. “But you need some guidance right now.”
Ow. I think I just rolled my eyes so hard it made my brain hurt. “I’m not a kid.”
“Nope.” She shakes her head. “But you’re acting a little bit like one.”
“Thanks for the tough love, Sis.” I wipe my eyes on Ally’s bright white sleeve. Not even sorry. She is right though. I need to focus on the mission and not the past or the ‘what-ifs’. “Sorry about the eyeliner.” I wipe my hand across the black smudges on my sister’s sleeve.
“No worries, sis.” Ally winks and sticks out her tongue. “It’s okay, you don’t have to say it. I know I’m right, too.”
If Ed really is up to something, then I need a job sooner rather than later. I don’t really have time to play moral dilemma games right now. “I’m looking for something in management, so I can hopefully get a salary.”
Ally nods. “That’s a good place to start looking.”
“I don’t want to have to wonder how many hours I’ll have each week or wonder what my check is going to be. I need to be able to count on it, so I can save up enough for a down payment, and…” Starting over sucks. “Furniture. Food. Toys for the kids.” This is not the time to start doubting myself.
“Whoa, one step at a time. Let’s just see what’s out there first.” Ally scrolls through the ‘Management’ section, while I dump a bag of popcorn into a bowl.
“What do we have first?”
“Management. That’s a plus.”
“Where?”
“It doesn’t say.” Ally’s eyes bounce back and forth as she scans the ad. “Fast paced. You’ve got three kids; you can handle fast-paced.”
“That’s definitely true.” I had become relatively accustomed to the fast-paced lifestyle with Ed. It was only one of the things I truly hated about being married to him… and his family. There was always a responsibility that I never asked for, but that never mattered. Another function to attend, or another problem to be held liable for if I couldn’t fix it fast enough.
“Uh, do you want to work at Arrow Medical?” Ally asks with one eye closed like she’s bracing herself for the pillow I want to throw at her head right now.
“Next.” I turn my nose up and shove an entire handful of popcorn in my mouth. I’d rather move than work for his family again.
“Did you have to marry someone whose family owns half of Tulsa?” Ally grumbles as she scans the next page, or three.
“It seemed like a good idea at the time. It’s funny how much can change between high school prom and three kids.”
Ad after ad scrolls across Ally’s screen. “Oh!” Ally jumps up and down in her seat.
I lean over her shoulder to see what was so exciting. “Did you find something?”
“Maybe.” Her smile widens. “Looks promising. It’s management, again.” She nods like she’s commending herself on a job-well-done as she scans the page. “The required skills are organization, team leadership, and problem-solving. You’ve got those covered.”
“That sounds perfect.” I can feel my eyebrows pulling together. “What’s the catch?”
“It says it’s 80-percent travel.” Ally grits her teeth.
“Nope.” Damn it.
Ally puts her hand up and pushes me away from the screen. “Just trust me. I can’t work with you breathing over my shoulder.”
“I do, but I can’t be away from the kids 80-percent of the time.” My tone is harsher than I intended. “Sorry. I’m just getting frustrated.”
“I know. I get it.” She shakes her head and flips through the rest of the ads. “I see what you were saying about there not being anything. I never knew it was this hard to find a decent job in this town.”
“This hard?” I laugh and offer her the bowl of popcorn. “You’ve only been at it ten-minutes.”
Ally shoves a handful of the extra butter popcorn in her mouth. “Well, it’s brutal.” She wrings her hands together, her signature brainstorming move.
“Your wheels are turning, aren’t they?” I’m not convinced that whatever she has in mind is in my best interests.
“Absolutely.” She smirks and fluffs the pillows beside her. “Enough of this.” She closes the laptop and places it on the coffee table. “Let’s watch a movie.”
“Tell me.” This is going to be bad.
“Nope.” Ally clamps her mouth shut and mimes throwing away the key.
Damn it. “Fine.” I know when I’m beaten. “Give me the popcorn.” I click over to Netflix. “Let’s try again tomorrow, after we get home from taking Grandpa to brunch.”
“He’s been doing better since the police brought him home Sunday.” Ally cringes. “Keeping him busy during the days seems to be helping.”
I chew on the inside of her cheek. “He has been doing better.” Getting a phone call that he was found wandering down a major highway at midnight—not cool. This is an example of a paragraph that does not have justified text. Please don’t do this. While the formatter can usually manage this with coding, it’s easier if what we send to him/her provides a clear example of how we expect the final copy to look. Now, if you look at the end row of this paragraph here >> you will notice that it’s not a clean line like the paragraphs above and below.
“Grandpa, no.” I tried to whisper hoping the other Cherry Street Grill guests couldn't hear me, but apparently Grandpa couldn’t hear me either.
“Why can't I get a beer in this rat hole?” His fist slams against the tabletop making the silverware rattle like an earthquake just hit.
I actually jumped in my seat. There may have been a squeal. I can’t confirm or deny that. “Probably because it’s only ten a.m., Grandpa.” I can’t help it; I try to fight back a laugh and snort instead. Great. The Woodward curse strikes again. At least the couple in the next booth have the decency to pretend they aren't staring at our little sideshow over here. “Besides Grandpa, they can’t serve liquor on Sunday.”
“They could just ask someone to run next door to the gas station. I’m sure they have a beer sitting ice cold in the fridge over there. Don't you have any manners anymore, Taryn?” He wags his finger at me.
“Sorry, Grandpa.” I can’t help but wonder which version of me he’s seeing right now. Am I “me” or am I a kid again and one that he thinks is sassing him out in public? I guess since he is currently scolding me like a toddler that’s probably exactly how I look to him right now. “I didn't know there was a code of manners required in a rat hole.” I decide to just roll with it. What the hell, right?
“Ahem.” A tall-dark-and-handsome clears his throat while standing at the end of the table.
Great. We must have gotten a complaint for being too loud.
“I mean…” He smirks and glances around the dining area. “Our restaurant isn't in the middle of the Blue Dome District, but I don't know if I'd call it a rat hole.”
My face burns and I think I can feel the blush creeping across my skin. My face must be just as red as tall-dark-and-handsome’s necktie. “I'm sorry. I was just trying to—”
“Hey, don't worry about it.” His smile softens. “I'm James, let me know if you need anything.” He nods toward Peyton and Aiden, who are doing an excellent job of distracting Grandpa with their latest coloring creations. “Those are some amazin
g pieces of artwork.”
“You know, he's right.” Grandpa's voice cracks and I think he might be coming back to the present time with us. “I can't wait to hang these up on my wall at home.” When he smiles like that it almost feels like the grandpa I grew up knowing is back. It makes my heart happy.
Peyton’s face beams with pride. “Thank you.” She scribbles something on a napkin and hands it to tall-dark-and-handsome. “Here.”
“Oh!” His eyebrows pinch together. “This is amazing.”
He’s trying so hard to figure it out, maybe I should throw the guy a bone. “Peyton, did you sign the unicorn before you gave it to him?”
She gasps and shakes her head as she grabs for the picture. “I almost forgot!”
“Every artist needs to autograph their work, but especially on such a beautiful unicorn.” He mouths ‘Thank you’ to me as he slides the napkin back across the table to Peyton.
Her smile widens as she carefully writes each letter in her name. P-E-Y-T-O-N
“I'm not sure that's a unicorn.” Aiden giggles.
The purple crayon thumps against the wooden table as Peyton throws herself back in the seat. “It is too!”
And here we go. Round two.
“Careful,” James snickers. “I have a sister and I think I see steam coming from your sister’s ears. Brother to brother, that’s not a good sign. How about I give you all free ice cream?”
“Can I get a beer instead?” Grandpa wraps his hand around the poor guy's arm. “When I was in the Navy…”
James’s espresso colored eyes glimmer with amusement as Grandpa tells him about life on a submarine. He’s handling it pretty well, most people would have been thoroughly annoyed by now.
“Grandpa, I'm sure he's very busy. I'll stop on the way home and we can pick up whatever you need from the store.”
“Fine.” Grandpa rolls his eyes. “If you'll excuse me...” The legs of his chair screech across the floor as he stands up on unsteady legs. “I'll meet you in the car.” Peyton and Aiden each grab on to one of his arms to help balance him.
