Finding Spring

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Finding Spring Page 2

by B. E. Baker


  “You can stay as long as you want,” I say. “No big rush on our end.”

  “I've got fifty million emails to wade through.” Mary sighs.

  “And I have to sign off on all the launch plan details.” Luke shakes his head. “I know you’re actively searching, but jobs are overrated.”

  “You might have a different opinion if you were in my shoes,” I say. “I've filled out eighty-six applications and not gotten one interview.”

  Mary's eyebrows draw together. “I wish you'd come work for me. I don't understand why you won't.”

  Mary has always been a genius, and laser focused on top of it. She put herself through college and took care of me at the same time. She found her own job right out of school and worked her way to the top by the age of thirty. She never had a leg up from anyone, so she doesn't get why I won't accept one when she's offering it.

  “I need to find a place myself,” I say.

  “Just apply for a position at LitUp Applied Science,” Luke says. “I won't even tell anyone to pick you, I swear.”

  I roll my eyes. “Sure you wouldn't. You guys are amazing, but I'm graduating in two months and I need to do this on my own.” Plus, there's no way I want to work at Luke's office, where he will awkwardly try to shove me at his little brother daily. Blech.

  “If you change your mind, just say the word,” Mary says. “Being the boss should have some perks, right?”

  A terrible thought occurs to me. What if they're offering me jobs because they're sick of me not contributing? Mary's too nice to complain, but the idea of her grumbling to Luke about how I'm such a freeloader when I could be earning something to pay them makes me dizzy.

  I bite my lip. “If I still can't find anything in the next two weeks, I'll apply for a job at both of your companies. I know I'm sponging off you right now so I shouldn't be too picky, but I'd really like to try and do this myself.”

  Mary puts her hand on my arm. Her voice is soft when she says, “Trudy, you are not sponging. You're caring for my beautiful nephew. You watch Chase and Amy all the time, and you're finishing up your degree. I don't even know how you'll find time to work between now and graduation.”

  “I watched my friend Pam's son Benson for free for two years while she was getting her beautician's license. She's too nauseated by the smell of hair products during her second pregnancy to work. Plus her husband got a promotion, and told her to take some time off. Troy and her son are the same age and they play beautifully, so she's going to watch Troy for free while things level off around here.”

  “What about school?” Luke asks. “You only had four classes between you and graduation, but that's still a full load.”

  “Yeah, I was so close. I was such an idiot not to finish. Luckily, the university has a new program that lets me take the computer classes mostly online, which means I could go at whatever pace I wanted. The reason I started looking for jobs is that I'm essentially done.”

  “How's that even possible?” Paisley has been wiping down the counters, and I almost forgot she was still here.

  “I've been working on them every single time Troy takes a nap, and after he goes to bed. I'm finished, other than taking my finals, which I can't do until the first week of May.”

  Paisley whistles. “Well folks, Mary and Trudy may not look an awful lot alike, but it turns out, Trudy's just as big of a nerd. Good luck living with a Wiggin girl, Luke, that's all I have to say.”

  “I can't wait.” Luke kisses Mary's forehead.

  Mary beans Paisley in the head with a grape.

  “Nice shot,” I say. “See? We're not too nerdy. We can still lob a grape well enough to leave a welt.”

  Luke's phone buzzes and he checks it. “That's Paul. He needs my feedback in the next hour on the supply chain revisions.” He slides his phone into his pocket. “Sorry we can't stay longer.”

  “If you guys are super busy, leave the kiddos,” I say. “They can spend the night.”

  Luke's head whips toward Mary's so fast, I worry about whiplash. “That's not a bad idea.”

  Mary shakes her head. “We can't, not tonight. They have dentist appointments in the morning, remember?”

  Luke grunts. “Fine, fine. Thanks for the offer, Trudy.”

  Once they've gathered all their things and extricated both kids, they head out the door. Luke turns back toward me before he heads down the steps. “I'm going to hold you to your promise,” Luke says. “Not because we care whether you're paying rent. We couldn't care less, I swear. But you're too great an asset to be wandering around undiscovered. You can keep sending resumes into slush piles for two more weeks, and if no one bites, then you're going to come work for me.”

  He hugs me, and I close the door behind him.

  Paisley's sweeping now. I cross the room and take the broom from her. “I didn't invite you over to be my maid.”

  “There were only six kids, right? How come it looks like a tornado went through the house?” she asks.

  “It looks almost this bad before I put Troy to bed every night.” He's watching Mickey Mouse on TV right now, but I glance at the clock. “Which I have to do in an hour or so, anyway.”

  “Maybe I'll stick around for a movie, then. Do you have time?” she asks.

  “You don't have other plans?” I'm giddy about having some girl time, but I feel bad keeping her here on a Sunday night. I'm sure she has more exciting options. “It's a weekend and you're single and flirty and fun.”

  Paisley laughs. “It's cute that you think I might have exciting plans. I had a horrible date on Friday. It was so bad I deleted the dating app from my phone.”

  “Whoa! No more internet dating for you?” I ask.

  She giggles. “Let’s not get too carried away. I have about ten other apps, but that particular one's toast.”

  “I don't even want to think about all that,” I say.

  “You never used apps before you married Chris?” Paisley asks.

  “I mean, they existed, but I met him through a friend. After that. . .”

  Paisley nods. “Yeah, Mary told me. He kind of took over your life.”

  I shrug. It's been so strange making decisions on my own, now that he’s finally been eliminated from my life. Strange, but also liberating. “Anyhow, I have a while before I need to worry about it.”

  She narrows her eyes at me. “Do you now?” She snatches my phone and starts poking at buttons.

  “Hey,” I say. “Give that back.”

  “I'm bringing you into the twenty-first century.”

  I snatch my phone back. “I'm not dating at all.”

  Paisley's jaw drops. “Why not?”

  I pull the crumpled list out of my pocket. “Last time I started dating someone and got excited, I got married and pregnant and didn't finish my last semester of college.”

  “Not everyone is Chris,” Paisley says. “In fact, most people aren’t anywhere near that narcissistic.”

  “Thank goodness for that,” I say, “but I need to worry about getting my ducks in a row. Besides, right now I don't even want to date.” I plop down onto one of the kitchen chairs. “I think my heart died.”

  “I didn't realize you were so upset over the divorce.” Paisley collapses next to me. “I'm sorry. I'm a lousy friend.”

  I shake my head. “It's not the divorce, or even Chris. My overwhelming feeling about that was just relief.”

  Paisley leans toward me. “Then what's with the vampire situation?”

  “Huh?” I ask.

  “Your undead heart?”

  Paisley's such a goober. “I don't know. I haven't wanted to watch rom coms, or any kind of love stories. I don't ever catch myself checking out hot guys. If my heart isn’t dead, it’s broken beyond repair. I don’t even think about all that stuff.”

  “When would you go see a movie if you wanted to? Do you ever leave the house anymore?”

  I whap her on the arm. “I leave the house.”

  “I’m not actually kidding. Oth
er than shipping your Etsy signs and like, grocery shopping, when do you go anywhere?”

  My cheeks heat up. “I don't have enough money to pay for a gym membership—I only have one because Mary added me to her account for a Christmas present.” My voice drops to a whisper. “I really do need a job.”

  Paisley's face crumples. “Oh Trudy, I'm sorry. I didn't even think about that. Look, the last year has been a rough one.”

  “Try the last five.”

  She slides her chair close and puts her arm around me. “This year is going to be your best yet, then.”

  A tear slides down my cheek. “Why would you think that? I haven't got a single lead for a job. Not one.”

  “That's how it works. When life gets horrible enough, we make changes. It takes time to course correct, but once we do, that's when things improve. I’ve been watching. You’re headed the right way again, so things will come around for you.”

  I hope she's right.

  “Hey what jobs are you applying for, anyway?” she asks.

  “What do you mean?”

  “You're graduating in computer science, right?”

  I nod. “I'm applying for IT jobs, if that's what you're asking. But they all require experience. I don't know how I'm supposed to get any, since none of them will take me without it.”

  She taps her lip and stands up. “You should search for jobs where the company is looking for an assistant and an IT person.”

  I tilt my head. “Why, exactly?”

  “First of all, you have experience as an assistant and you have a reference, too. You've helped with Sub-for-Santa several times. You list that and then you put me down as a reference. I'll give you a glowing recommendation.”

  “But I don't want to be an assistant,” I say. “No offense.” I still have no idea what Paisley likes about being Mary's go-fer.

  She rolls her eyes. “You might like it once you try it, but even if you don't, it would get your foot in the door, Trudy. Once they meet you and see how smart you are, you'll be a shoo-in for their IT position.”

  Sly like a fox. My kind of plan.

  With Paisley's help, I add to my resume. When she wants me to change Trudy to ‘Gertrude,’ I balk. “It makes me sound a hundred years old.”

  “You’re applying for assistant jobs. The older, the more competent, right?”

  I suppose she would know. We work on applications until Troy gets sick of Mickey, which is about eleven applications in. Frankly, I was surprised to even find that many places looking for both assistants, and IT personnel.

  “An assistant spy,” I say. “I like it.”

  She grins and helps me put Troy to bed. Afterward, she insists on watching Kate and Leopold. I almost enjoy it.

  The next day, I check my email after my morning walk with Troy. I definitely enjoy seeing not one, not two, but three emails from companies interested in interviewing me. Maybe Paisley’s right and things are turning around for me. I’m smiling when I call them one-by-one and set up interviews.

  2

  Paul

  My door is always open at work, but a knock on my doorframe alerts me to someone's presence. I look up and into the face of my older brother.

  Luke smiles at me. “Got a second?”

  “Sure,” I say. “Come on in.”

  He sets a large box on my desk. “I brought the packaging sample.”

  “It’s here sooner than I expected.” I reach for it, but Luke leans against the desk, blocking my hand. He clearly has an agenda this morning.

  “Did you have a good weekend?” Luke asks, a little too casually.

  “If working all day Saturday and all day Sunday and still not catching up on everything qualifies as good, then sure. It was fantastic. You?”

  “Mine was okay. I didn't catch up either.” He smirks. “So what are you doing this weekend? Hopefully it won't be as pathetic.”

  “I know what I'm not doing,” I say.

  “What's that?”

  “Meeting you and Mary for a double date.”

  Luke opens his mouth and then closes it, his teeth clicking together.

  “I've said this before, but it didn't seem to take,” I say. “I don't want to be set up with Mary's loser little sister.”

  Luke scowls. “She's not a loser, and since you've never even seen her, I'm surprised to hear you say that. You're usually not so boorish. And I thought you liked Mary.”

  I really stepped into that one. “I do. Mary's great.” Maybe too great. “That's not the point. Look, the more someone tries to sell me on how great beachfront property is, the more I suspect it’s not even near the water.”

  “I’m overselling her.”

  “Yes. And also, I don't need your help finding someone to date.”

  “I know you don’t,” Luke says. “You're smart, and funny and kind, and you do great with the ladies. Which is exactly why I want to introduce you to Trudy. She doesn’t need our help either, and she’s pushing back as hard as you are.”

  I frown at him. “Wait, she doesn’t want to meet me?”

  He takes that as encouragement, apparently. “It would be low key, I swear.”

  “Right, I can see it now. You and Mary would meet us at the restaurant. Your fiancé would walk in arm-in-arm with her mini-me, and you’d be dragging me by the scruff of my neck. We'd get appetizers and chat politics. We'd swap old family stories during the main course, and by the time dessert arrives, Mary and her sister would be clipping pages out of bridal magazines together.”

  “Oh please,” Luke says. “We don't even—”

  I cut him off. “Thanks, but no thanks. I know you've found an amazing wife not once, but twice now. I know you're more than qualified to judge whether a woman is quality, and I've proven that I can't always tell. Even so, I don't need you to set me up at all. With anyone, ever.”

  “Fine, I get it this time. You're serious.” Luke points at the mock up for the packaging. “Feel like yelling about this now? Or are you done?”

  I chuckle as I turn the box over in my hands. Our four point six pound car battery's biggest selling point is that it's lightweight. Which means we need the packaging for the battery to be light as air and showcase its size, while still protecting it in transit and attracting attention. “No, this actually looks great. Did we get price quotes?”

  Luke shakes his head. “We can't shop for quotes until we have an approved sample. If you think this is alright, I'll move ahead on the bids.”

  “Yeah, I think we're ready for that.”

  Luke mock bows. “Yes, boss.”

  The irony of him calling me that, even in jest, stings a little. “I only own forty-nine percent, as you well know. I should be calling you boss.”

  “As far as I'm concerned, we're even partners. We only did what the lawyer suggested, and it was only to eliminate conflict if we ever disagreed. You insisted that I be assigned the fifty-one percent instead of the forty-nine because I ponied up the start-up capital.”

  True enough. Luke's a benevolent overlord and always has been. It still irritates me. I stand up and grab my bag. “Get out of my office so I can, too.”

  Luke lifts his eyebrows. “You working from home every afternoon now?”

  I drop my bag on the desk. “I'm sorry. Do I need to check in with you on where I work? Because you were the one who completely abandoned the company for years to drive around in an RV with your kids, playing at being a simple project electrician.”

  Luke stiffens, and I immediately regret saying anything. Luke's wife died delivering their second child, leaving him to deal with the grief of losing her and the care a toddler and a newborn at the same time. I'd probably have gone insane and spent the next three years talking to a football I named Myrtle.

  “I didn't mean—”

  Luke cuts me off. “I am a project electrician, and I get all my best ideas from work in the field.”

  Most of our innovations came from things Luke realized the industry needed while working an actu
al gig. Whenever we ran dry on ideas, I’d send him back out. But I didn’t send him out after Beth, and he kept at those jobs for years, unable to come home and face that Beth wasn't coming back. I don't even begrudge him his sabbatical. He worked from where he was and sent a dozen ideas my direction.

  “I know you do, and I’m sorry I said anything.” I really am sorry I brought it up, but it still annoys me that he's giving me a hard time for leaving the office. “During your working sabbatical, I discovered that I’m more productive during the afternoon at home, where there aren't a hundred and fifty people dropping in to ask me questions.”

  “Fair enough,” Luke says.

  I start to walk past him, but he grabs my shoulder and forces me to meet his eyes. “Are we okay Paul? You seem off lately, and I can't pinpoint how. I don't want to badger you, but I need to make sure we're okay.”

  Luke's the best brother in the history of the world. Seriously. People joke all the time about us being the better Manning brothers, since Peyton and Eli Manning are so famous, but honestly. Luke dropped his life and immigrated to the States with me when I got into Harvard. He worked to pay for my school expenses. I didn't realize the extent of what he’d sacrificed for me by going straight into a job after secondary school until he told me he was enrolling too.

  Up until the day I found out Luke got into Harvard, it had never occurred to me that he might be smart. My family always talked about how Luke had common sense, and I was the smart one. I never even considered that he might be smart enough for a US college, much less an Ivy League one. He never hogged the limelight, but he was smarter than me all along. And better looking, and harder working.

  I didn't want to let his frat boy, trust-baby friend bankroll out first venture, but Luke insisted and it paid off. Then he met the most amazing girl ever, married her and had two gorgeous kids. It sucked when she died, I mean, I really do feel awful about that. But now he's found someone even more spectacular.

  I kind of hate him for it.

  Not really. I mean, I'm happy for him and of course I love him, but I'm jealous too. I want a perfect wife. I want to be the one with the ideas, instead of the grunt who hunches over a microscope figuring out how to make the brilliant concepts work. I want to sacrifice for him for once so he can pursue his dreams. I thought I was doing it while he traveled around the world with his kids in an RV, but he came up with the idea that made this dumb battery possible on that hiatus, so again.

 

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