by Alia Thomas
Swapping one handful of paper for the other, she read carefully. The vacancy for a lawyer needed to be filled urgently and the qualifications required all spelled her name. There was only a two day window for application and she felt moved to apply.
Picking up a tip for a vacancy in a garbage can wasn’t exactly the norm for Kimberly, but sometimes the most valuable things were found in the oddest of places. Tearing along the frame of the ad, she removed it and jogged to her apartment to try her luck with the treasure of the trash bin.
*****
The building was shinier than the law office Kimberly had worked at, and for some reason, she didn’t associate it with a furniture company. As she approached the reception area, she reminded herself that this wasn’t the industrial age, and that main offices and factories no longer had to share the same quarters.
She was definitely confused as to the type of furniture this company made because the lobby was beautifully decorated with pieces that looked antique, contrary to the plastic Lego like contraptions she thought it produced.
The response to her application was almost immediate. Sending off her particulars before washing away the sweat from yoga and her rummage in the bin, Kimberly remained optimistic that things may go in her favor. Seconds after emerging from the bathroom, her laptop alerted her to new mail. The interview would be at three in the afternoon to be precise and rushing to make it across the city prevented her from doing in depth research on her prospective employer.
Alvin Petterkin was the man who would determine her fate with this company, and even though she had no idea of the salary scale or what exactly they were offering, she had a positive feeling about her possible success.
Kimberly declined the coffee the secretary had prepared and sat, staring at the hallway in anticipation of getting the matter over with. A naturally confident woman, she still got butterflies when answering questions from strangers while they jotted notes on yellow legal pads.
A short African American man sauntered up to the receptionist and whispered in private tones, while a slender man of Hispanic decent walked past with his head dropped in disappointment. She could only assume he was unsuccessful.
Motioning in Kimberly’s direction, he summoned her to his side and the two shook hands vigorously as introductions were exchanged. Walking to the office in silence, Kimberly peeked through several open doors at employees who seemed content.
The office they entered looked a lot like the others and in courtesy, she was invited to have a seat in one of the chairs adjacent Mr. Peterkin while he assumed his position.Typical interview questions were wielded in her direction, and she was honest in her responses about ambition and career goals. Personally, admitting at twenty seven that she was childless and unattached to any man, was somewhat of a sore point for many reasons that were inappropriate to discuss in a business setting such as this.
Mr. Peterkin was asking about her time management skills and her strategy for managing stress. Considering the working conditions at Goldman & Parks, as well as her dramatic exit, she answered with a confident half truth.
Painting a story of a woman who was able to carry the entire legal load of a company with finesse and accuracy, Kimberly hoped her explanation was convincing enough.
As Kimberly finished her sentence, the heavy oak door, she had entered through cracked open, and footsteps silently moved in their direction. Not wanting to interrupt, a voice said, “Please continue Alvin, I am just here to observe.” And so they did.
Resisting the urge to look around at the visitor, Kimberly responded to the most recent question about her availability, stating jokingly, that she could move into her office immediately.
The deep voice behind her chuckled, and curiosity overtook her train of thought as she finally twisted in the chair to meet the deep blue eyes and bow tie mouth laughing at her comedic attempt. He sauntered forward to the Manager’s desk and authoritatively picked up her file.
Reading for what seemed like an eternity; the man nodded and made pensive sounds before he spoke again. There was something interesting about this person and she sensed he was higher ranked in the company than the man conducting the interview.
“Kimberly Walsh… that’s you, am I right? You seem pretty accomplished for a lady your age and I can see you are headed for greatness. I hope Alvin here doesn’t feel too horribly that I intruded on his interview, but I would like to offer you the position. If you like, we can go straight to your new office and I can brief you on the details. I trust you’ve been told of our generous remuneration package?”
Unintentionally foregoing professionalism by nodding her head, she communicated that she had been briefed on what the company had to offer but his eyes trapped her and she was rendered speechless. The Human Resources Manager cleared his throat and her head jerked around.
“Ms. Walsh? Do you want to accept the position? It seems it is yours after all!”
“Yes… yes… I would be more than pleased to accept your offer, thank you.”
The visitor, who was yet to introduce himself, shook her hand with vigor, welcoming her to the family of Tabletop Industries, and she grinned in circles while still contemplating what about this man was so magnetic.
Following his lead to the office in the corner, she reminded herself that it probably wasn’t best to view your new boss in an attractive light, and switched back to a business persona by the time they reached the door.
*****
Was he staring? Richard wondered this as he watched her lower half fill out the chair and taper into a neat waist. He didn’t mean to interject, but her smooth voice left him no option. He never conducted interviews, but in this instance, he felt drawn to interrupt Alvin’s process.
Why would he offer a job to a woman they didn’t even do a background check on? It was too late to consider these things now as he had already spoken out of turn and the company would have to live with any possible consequences.
Her palms were smooth as Richard closed his fingers around hers in a congratulatory handshake and he thought he saw the tiniest flame of interest in her eyes as she accepted her new position.
What was it about her? Her hair was in a neat braid behind her head and though he was no expert, she didn’t seem to wear much make up. Her round face and full lips were pretty without any alteration and he secretly approved of this.
Kimberly’s dress was a bit more flamboyant than the other female employees usually wore, and he was intrigued by the prospect of adding a splash of color to the pale landscape of Tabletop Industries. It wouldn’t be appropriate for a new boss to stare at new employees’ breasts so he chose to focus on her sparkling brown eyes, keeping the pert globes in his peripheral vision.
Casing open the door of the recently cleaned and dusted office, Richard stepped aside, allowing her to admire the envied view of the skyline, while he enjoyed looking at her without interruption. She was speaking and he had to put his carnal thoughts in his pocket to focus on her conversation.
“Thank you so much for the opportunity sir. I assure you; you made a good decision in hiring me. You never told me your name though.”
“We are glad to have you here Ms. Walsh, my name is Richard and I’m the CEO.”
Another slow handshake followed as boss and employee assessed each other, both keeping thoughts that had nothing to do with business to themselves.
Chapter 2
The matter of Mr. Swindley’s disappearance was troubling, even though he had been replaced. Why would a man who had been with the organization, almost from inception, suddenly up and leave? Richard pondered this as he nibbled at the stale bagel on his counter. Jasmine was with her mom this week and the cook was given the day off. The fridge was full of options, but since the divorce, the smell of bacon in the morning gave him bad memories and hence it was no longer prepared in his family kitchen.
Thoughts drifted from his business to his family life, or lack thereof and then back to business. The lawsuit they were facin
g would not put Tabletop in financial ruin, but it certainly would dent the company image. Products were still being churned out at the factory and flying off shelves, but when all the details were revealed in open court it would surely impact their steady following of economy customers who relied on them for affordable furnishings.
Tabletop produced plastic and resin furniture that resembled the finest of hand carved wooden tables, chairs and any other item usually made of hardwood. The pieces usually snapped and locked together like children’s blocks, but with much more security. Patents filed in the US and most developed countries, secured their leadership position in the marketplace and also satisfied the company mandate to save trees with every furniture piece produced.
Richard gazed at the clock on the wall, monogrammed with the company seal of an oak tree with a chair carved into its trunk. The motto engraved along the bottom said ‘Sitting in the present and standing for the future.’ As he considered the timepiece also made of Eco friendly resin from his factory, he wondered how long the pending case would loom for. Fatigue from worrying about every aspect of his life was becoming overwhelming and he was exhausted from the weight.
There was a flutter in the kitchen, distracting Richard from his depressing thoughts and his head snapped around, a blue jay had gotten lost en route to his destination and after circling the kitchen several times he settled for a perch on the stack of fruit near one of the many open windows. Cocking his head to a side as if inspecting Richard, the bird sang and cooed while his human audience looked on. As Richard observed the small creature, it took flight, drifting to the window sill glancing back before floating into the breeze that would take it to his destination-if there was any. For a moment, Richard wished he could join the bird on his adventures where he would no longer have to worry about menial things like money and law suits. He knew he couldn’t fly, but if he died, at least he wouldn’t have to think about such earthly matters again.
*****
The sleek, black entertainment cabinet was flung open and the iPod connected. A selection of the loudest and most abrasive music was chosen and Kimberly hosted a private party for one. A fourth glass of wine down, she held no reservation in pouring another. Celebratory drinks were in order and she would be the one to both celebrate and drink on this momentous occasion.
The quest of finding the ever elusive dream job was over and she was the one with the prize. The package Tabletop offered her was one hundred percent better than her last job and if the Human Resources Manager and CEO were any indication of company culture, she would be joining a warm corporate family.
Speaking of family, Kimberly needed to call her aunt. Yes, she was an independent modern woman in many ways, but the traditions of family and upbringing dictated that she check in at least once a week with her. An older woman, Audrey was still very active and appeared combative to most who met her.
It was this warrior spirit that helped her survive the civil unrests in the south and then discrimination in New Jersey, where she now resided with her youngest daughter, Maya and regal cat, Ebony.
This was Aunt Audrey’s hundredth cat and each one bore the same name. They were the Albino looking variety with pink eyes and almost transparent skin. Maya hated it and paused mid cuss word to answer the phone.
“Hey Maya, what’s up? It’s Kimberly.”
“Yo Cuz, what’s good in the high rise? How are the folk treating you over there?”
“Everything is great! I got a new job today, where is your mom?”
Maya didn’t like people to know Audrey was her mother because she was conceived late in life by a pastor delivering words of comfort after the passing of Audrey’s husband-or so it was rumored. The neighborhood was rife with gossip after Maya was born and as she grew up, she was haunted by questions about her questionable paternity. Audrey abruptly put a stop to all queries after she bitch slapped the nosy neighbor who dared utter in public that the girl was a bastard and ill conceived. The street brawl turned violent when plant pots and garden fixtures were thrown and the neighbor left the battle missing a few teeth.
It was after that they moved to New Jersey and subsequently all fights, street brawls and brash behavior were put to one side and seventy five year old Audrey finally became a lady.
Her voice could be mistaken for a man’s but Kimberly knew well it was her when a gruff voice barked hello into the phone.
“Aunt Audrey! How are you, it’s Kimberly.”
“Hey darlin, this is the second time you called this week, is everything ok?”
“More than ok auntie, I got a new job today.”
“I didn’t know you were looking! Congrats honey. Any word on a husband? This one here isn’t giving me any grand babies and my time in the world is measured. Y’all gonna let me die without seeing the next generation?”
Kimberly had anticipated the question, or demand as it often sounded and the same answer was there, ready to fire back at the old woman.
“I am not ready yet auntie, I can’t be tied down to a man and children right now. I have a career and that’s all I wanna focus on right now. But soon auntie, real soon.”
“Been hearing that same song for years now girl. Don’t be distracted from the things that really matter in life child. When poor Ali passed it was the most devastating thing, but I would never have made it without hearing him and seeing him every day. Love is important sweetheart. Don’t you lose sight of that when you are raking in the money. You hear me girl?”
Aunt Audrey’s tone was more solemn than usual and this concerned Kimberly a great deal. Watching her toes wiggle in the strands of the colorful modern carpet, she waited in silence to be sure the old woman was done with her words of wisdom. A raspy cough punctuated Audrey’s words and she rested for a while before continuing.
“Anyway, enough rambling from someone old enough to remember Nixon. Where is this new job and are they paying you better than the last place?”
She was old and this allowed Audrey to ask questions that would be considered rude by the average person.
“Yes ma’am, they are good people and the benefits are decent. I think it’s a good fit for me. I start in the morning.”
“Well best of luck to you and I hope you are blessed with every good thing that you desire. Keep your eyes out for a good God fearing man. I want to see you happy Kim. We love you.”
“I love you guys too auntie. Look out for the wire transfer on Monday.”
“Alright honey. Bye.”
The line went dead in Kimberley’s ear as she ran the conversation through her head. When the screeching tone pounded in her ear, she clicked the off button but didn’t move.
So much pressure all around to be married and have children. She didn’t mind the husband so much, but was apprehensive of the children that came along with the institution of marriage. Her mother was horrible. Even though Kimberly was raised by other women who were strong and mostly morally upright, the fear that she would end up treating any children she bore the way her mother did her, haunted Kimberly’s thoughts every time the subject came up.
Crack and booze were the staples that held the loose fabric of Camilla’s life together. Yes, she needed to mind Kimberly but the pimp didn’t care if one had children or not- money had to be made. Prostitution was conducted in the daytime at many elite places in America, but Camilla’s trade was plied at night on the dark dangerous streets and often, Kimberly was left alone.
Her mother didn’t prepare dinner and with a tummy growling, an ambitious Kimberly decided to cook the one box of Mac and cheese in the otherwise empty cupboard. The salt shaker on the counter sang as she added the salt and after the artificial orange cheese was stirred into the soupy pasta, she was satisfied that she had done an excellent job.
Jeopardy was on. The show intrigued Kimberly because there were a few black people who had made it to the finals and this proved to her that not all of her kind were as stupid as the media made them out to be.
The smoke wa
s faint at first, but then billowed through the small door of the greasy kitchen door and drifted into the dining room, enveloping the ugly, floral Formica chairs. On her last forkful, Kimberly lifted her head to see the curls of smoke enveloping her head and instantly went into a panic. Should she call 911? Should she try to turn off the stove? Where was the door?
As it turns out, all options would be closed to young Kimberly as the room became more filled with white and gray clouds. It ended up on the ten o’clock news. The fire fighters descending from a tenth story window of semi neglected apartment building, a rag of a girl flopped over his shoulder.
Six months would elapse before Granny Jenna would gain custody of her and try to fix what Kimberly’s cracked out mother had permanently damaged. It would be another six months before Camilla would commit suicide committing Granny Jenna to a lifetime of remorse. She had failed in her mission to raise a good child.
The law was laid down for Kimberly and she followed it to the letter. Granny was not going to let another one slip through the cracks of the ghetto and her grandmother was more proud than Kimberly when she was called to The Bar. Young, black and a lawyer. Surely Jenna had raised a rose among the thorns of the streets. Redeemed, she died a happy woman.
*****
Jasmine was home. She was happy because her mother had gotten her a new easel for her painting and it was her priority to check it out. Her kiss to her father was customary, but somewhat more abrupt than usual as she rushed up the stairs, following the butler who had gone before her.
Richard stared after his daughter with a hint of sadness in his eye. His little girl was growing up and soon thoughts of boys and parties would fill her head. What would her old lonely father do all by himself when she went off? Stop it Richard, he though. Life is not over. You act like the world is coming to an end. Sufficiently chastised, his hands drifted over the paper where he tried to concentrate on his writing.
