by Lynn Stevens
When the doors finally opened, Devon stood in my way alongside Marvin Acton. Their faces were relaxed and almost jovial. I stepped inside, hoping for a touch or comment from Devon. Anything to calm me down. For once in his life, he didn’t say a word to me. Neither of them did, but I could feel their eyes boring holes into the back of my neck. Each hair on my arms slowly rose to attention. I rubbed my skin to keep the chill from creeping in, but it was too late. Whatever I was going into would happen whether I liked it or not.
The doors opened on the next floor. Marvin and Devon stepped out. Before they closed again, Devon glanced over his shoulder and met my gaze. His smile couldn’t stop the dread filling every single cell in my body.
When the doors opened on the fourth floor, I almost stayed in the car. My feet felt like they were encased in concrete as I made my way out of the elevator. Each one sounded like a jackhammer on the plush beige carpet. Madeline Upton’s office occupied the corner of the northeast part of the building. The closer I got to it, the heavier my entire body weighed.
It felt like six weeks, when in reality it took about six seconds to get to the secretary’s desk outside Upton’s door. I didn’t even get a chance to tell the secretary who I was.
“She’s waiting for you,” the woman said. I’d never seen her before, so she obviously had been told to watch out for the terrified girl heading that way. She smiled, but there was that hint of pity in her face. I didn’t even know this woman and I could see it. All I wanted to do was turn and run the other way, preferably out of the building. Maybe I’d make a pit stop in the ladies on the way out first. So I could hurl.
I swallowed hard. Why was I even here? I had no clue what I’d done to get such a dreadful summons. Was it the file? Lawler grilled me about it, but the work was solid. There wasn’t any reason for the head of HR to call me in over that. The silver doorknob felt like ice as I pushed it down. The cold sprinted up my arm and into my chest. By the time I’d stepped into the office, my body shook with the chill and the dread. I wanted to curl up behind her plants and hibernate through the entire meeting.
Madeline Upton looked up from her glass-top desk where she’d been writing. A closed laptop sat to her left and her phone on her right. Other than the desk blotter, the rest of her desk was bare. Her office was immaculate in whites, grays, and chrome. It felt cold, unwelcoming. Or maybe that was just me.
Sitting on the light-gray loveseat with a tablet was Rex Anderson. He didn’t spare me a glance. The telltale sign was Philip Lawler’s presence. He stood near the floor to ceiling windows, staring out onto the roof of the plant behind the offices. When the door clicked quietly closed behind me, he turned. As always, his expression was unreadable.
“Ms. Dawson,” Madeline Upton said. She motioned to a white and chrome chair in front of her desk. I sat as instructed as Lawler took the matching chair beside me. Rex hadn’t moved. I could see him out of the corner of my eye tapping away on the tablet. “It’s come to our attention that you’ve violated one of the rules of your internship.”
My mouth dropped open. I wanted to scream how or why or what or fuck. I wasn’t sure which. The last seemed the most appropriate.
She pulled out the file from under her blotter. “Actually, more than one. Not only did you copy a confidential document, but you left the building with it. And you used an unsecured network to work on the project within this folder.”
I sat up straighter. That’s what this was all about. So what? I didn’t know I wasn’t supposed to do any of that. If I didn’t know, then I couldn’t be suspended, or worse, fired. “I didn’t—”
“Pay attention in orientation. Yes, that’s quite clear.” She handed the file toward Lawler, who leaned over the desk to reach for it. “Mr. Lawler will escort you to get your things. You’ll turn in your ID badge and parking key to Ally at the front desk.”
I opened my mouth to defend myself, but there wasn’t anything to say. I’d just been fired. From my dream internship, from the company I wanted to work for more than anything. It was over before it even had a chance to start.
“Ms. Dawson, I cannot stress how disappointed I am in this development.” Upton leaned on her elbows, clasping her fingers together. “I had high hopes for you. Despite Mr. Anderson’s desire not to bring you on, I offered you the internship anyway. You’re an intelligent young woman with a bright career ahead of you.” She paused and my heart sunk like a stone into the bottom of my stomach. “That future may not be with JenCar. If you choose to apply once you’ve graduated, we will, of course, take this incident into consideration. Regardless, you will not be offered another chance to intern here. The best I can do for you is this. Your internship will not be shown as a termination, but a resignation for personal reasons. In the future, please pay attention to every detail of your employment. I’d hate to see this happen to you again.” Her gaze turned to my mentor. Former mentor. “Philip, if you will.”
He stood from his chair beside me. I followed suit, trailing him like a lost puppy into the hall. My mind was blank. I tried to think, but there was nothing there. My body moved on autopilot toward the elevator. Lawler had the file clasped firmly in his hands. He wouldn’t even look at me as we descended. When the doors opened on the first floor, I wanted to race out before I started crying. Tears threatened, but I forced them back. There was no way this man was going to see me cry.
Especially after he sold me out. How else would she have known? It wasn’t like I sold secrets to the Koreans or a competitor. I did what I was asked. Lawler never even gave me any real directive when he handed over the files other than to fix them. And I fucking did that.
In my cube, I gathered my things, which wasn’t much. Just my purse, coat, and a mug I brought in to drink tea. I continued my true walk of shame toward the front of the building. For once I was glad I didn’t see Devon. I didn’t need his pity or comfort or anything. All I needed was to curl up in a ball and cry.
Lawler stopped with his hand on the door to the lobby.
“Liv, I’m sorry I had to tell Madeline.” His hand fell away and he turned to face me, leaning against the door to block my escape. “If this had been something I’d worked on, you could’ve been prosecuted for theft. Marvin Acton’s a son-in-law of Roger McPherson and a complete idiot. He has some great ideas, but he cannot execute a damn thing. That’s why those files were in the corner of my office. Anderson dumped everything in my lap. He made it part of my job to toss out the useless junk and keep the good. On top of everything else I have to do on a daily basis.”
I couldn’t talk, so I nodded. My throat had dried out in Upton’s office.
“And I shouldn’t even be telling you this except I looked at the modifications you made to the rudder design. It’s very good work. And so you know, I fought Rex and Madeline on this. You screwed up, but it would’ve been my preference to keep you on. And to have had the chance to be a better mentor. I’m sorry that I failed you there, too.” He pushed off the door and put his hand on my shoulder. “Don’t let this bring you down too far, Liv. Madeline’s right. You have a bright career ahead of you.”
I wanted to thank him, but he was part of the reason I’d just lost my job. He opened the door but didn’t step through with me. Ally’s kind demeanor was gone as I stopped at her desk and handed over everything. She took them and shredded my ID right in front of me. Might as well have been my heart. I’d never been fired before. Not even when I babysat for Mrs. Lakebrink’s baby and accidentally fed him the wrong bottle. Mrs. Lakebrink was pissed, but she called me a week later to sit again. I declined. Babies were not my thing.
Ally stood, coming around the desk, and took my arm not too gently. Her perfect manicure was sharper than it looked.
“I’m sorry for this, Ms. Dawson,” she said as she escorted me to the parking garage. “But it’s my job to make sure you leave the premises immediately. I’ll let you find your car, but if you haven’t exited the garage in three minutes, I’ll call the police and have you
forcibly removed.”
“I’m on the roof,” I said.
“Three minutes.”
I ran up the stairs to my truck and started it before I even had the driver’s door closed. My seat belt banged against the plastic interior as I drove down the ramp. Three minutes wasn’t a lot of time. Ally tapped her foot, glancing at her watch. As soon as the truck cleared the gate, she turned on her heel and marched back inside the building. I waited until JenCar was no longer in sight before I pulled over.
But nothing happened. I didn’t break down like I wanted to. I didn’t cry a single tear. I just sat there staring down the street with nowhere to go and nothing to do.
I was a failure.
I was off the path I’d constructed.
And I was empty.
I slipped the truck into gear and drove to the one place I knew I belonged. Home.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Traffic in Des Moines gave me an extra hour to think about everything at JenCar. My phone dinged text messages, but I didn’t stop to look at them. I didn’t stop at all. By the time I arrived on the outskirts of Kerns, my gas gauge dipped under the E. I needed to make it two more blocks and I’d be at Larry’s GasUp. I could already see the red and white sign, the four pumps, and the crowd at the attached cafe. Larry’s was a meeting place. One stop shopping so to speak, get business done, have a cup of coffee, gas up, and pick up the milk you forgot at the grocery store. There wasn’t much else to see in Kerns before or after.
The town always looked like it was on the verge of death, not unlike a lot of Midwestern small towns. The few businesses still alive were places like the gas station, Dad’s repair shop, the local florist, and the pharmacy. Even the grocery stores were national chains these days. The old brick buildings waited for occupancy, standing tall on the outside while crumpling on the inside. I loved coming home, but it always reminded me why I left, too. There wasn’t anything for me here. Except for my family.
The station was crowded for eight on a Tuesday night. I stepped out of the truck and into the frigid air. My boots crunched against freshly fallen snow. The five-hour drive turned the weather from threatening spring to holding onto winter. It was amazing what a few hours either way could do.
“Gonna get colder tonight,” someone said at a nearby pump.
“Heard we’re getting another shot of snow. ’Bout six inches or so,” someone else said.
I hurried around the backend of the truck to pop the gas cap. Coach Williams, the football coach, and Mr. Adams, a local farmer, chatted about the weather like long-lost friends. The truth was the coach hated this town and constantly applied for positions elsewhere. His sub five-hundred record assured him no one would hire him without a winning season. And he wasn’t likely to get that here. Football wasn’t as important as basketball, basketball wasn’t as important as baseball, and track was not as important as anything else—even band ranked higher.
Mr. Adams was a former Kerns football star who went on to play at Iowa State, although he never made it past third string. Adams wanted Williams fired. Williams wanted Adams to back off. So they talked about the weather like old chums. Such was life in Kerns. The enemy of my enemy was my friend, but my enemy could fake being my friend all he wanted.
I filled up, using my credit card reluctantly. The money I’d hoped to ease my finances with was gone. Tears welled in my eyes, but they still didn’t break free. All I could think about was my failure.
There wasn’t room in the driveway for my truck. Dad had a car on blocks covered with a bright-blue tarp. Inside the garage was another one. His SUV took up most of the drive, and Jacob’s two door Chevy Cavalier sat behind the work in progress. One of the doors was primed still. He had talked for months about painting it. Either he didn’t have the money or he didn’t want to spend the money. Dad made it clear when Jake got his license that his car repairs wouldn’t be free.
I parked on the street, pulling slightly onto the grass. Our house was on the edge of town where sidewalks weren’t needed and gutters weren’t made of concrete. The ranch house hadn’t changed much in my lifetime. Except for losing Mom. Then it felt empty. Dad did whatever he could to keep it the way Mom liked it. He kept the same TV, fixing it until there weren’t any original parts. He kept Mom’s chair, although it sat in the corner of his bedroom instead of the living room. He kept the color scheme the same, despite how it made the house feel like it was stuck in the nineties.
The pale-yellow siding seemed brighter against the fresh snow. The curtains were drawn over the picture window in the living room and the lights gave it an eerie glow. A silhouette of someone walked by like a ghost. It could’ve been Dad or Jacob. Definitely not Bradley. He hadn’t hit his Dawson height yet. The rest of my brothers topped six feet. Bradley and I were around five-seven. It could’ve been Trevor. He had his own place across town, but he was at the house a couple times a week.
My stalling wasn’t going to change the inevitable. I couldn’t sit outside forever. The cold would kill me faster than Dad learning I’d lost my virginity to a senior my freshman year in high school.
I opened the driver’s door and climbed out. The door slammed shut, the noise echoing down the quiet street. My phone vibrated against my leg. Once I got settled inside, I’d check the messages. Right now, I couldn’t face them. I just wanted to curl up in my old twin bed, tuck my pillow under my chin, and plan the next step. Preferably with one of the many stuffed animals that still littered my room as company.
The doorbell hadn’t worked in four years. Knowing that my father kept his pistol too close to his chair was enough to not just open the door and shout “I’m home.” I hadn’t warned him I was coming a few days early. And he was a good shot. I rapped against the white metal door.
Jacob yelled inside, “Get the door, loser.”
“You get it. You’re closer,” Bradley shot back.
I wanted to laugh at my little brothers but I was barely holding myself together. They argued over one another and a dog yipped. Wait, when did they get a dog? I’d begged for years for a puppy. Dad always told me no. I even went so far as to take photos of puppies at the pound and show him how cute they were. He’d look me dead in the eye and say no.
“Shut it,” Dad yelled. My brothers quieted down, so did the puppy. “You two bicker like an old married couple.”
The floor creaked as someone walked toward the door. I could almost imagine the puppy dancing around Dad’s feet. Tears filled my eyes. It was totally irrational. It was just a dog, just a pet.
When the door open, I burst into tears. “You never let me have a puppy,” I said between sobs.
“Munchkin?” Dad’s shock reverberated in his voice. “What’re you doing home?”
A little terrier sat beside my father and stared at me with big eyes. His shiny black hair had patches of coppery brown and white. I’d never seen a puppy so damn cute. I reached down to pet him but he darted back into the house. It only made me sob more. I fell against my father’s chest. His arms wrapped around me as he pulled me inside.
“What’s brought you home early, munchkin?” he whispered once I’d started to regain control of myself.
I glanced around for the puppy, but it wasn’t anywhere to be seen. Neither were my brothers. I stared up at my father’s concerned face. He’d always been there for me, even if he wasn’t supportive. I missed Mom. She would’ve known what to do. She would’ve helped me figure out this mess. At least I wanted to believe that.
Dad didn’t push me to talk. He waited, knowing I’d spill the beans when I was ready. I couldn’t look at him anymore. I didn’t want to see the disappointment in his face that I’d failed. Or the joy that he was right. It wasn’t that he was a jerk about my career choice. He was old-fashioned. Mom had been a teacher. Adam followed in her footsteps. He taught in Ames and worked toward his master’s in secondary education at Iowa State. Dad just wanted to keep me safe in Kerns where he could protect me from the big bad corporate world. As
much as it pissed me off that he didn’t think I could succeed, it came from a man who’d lost his wife too soon. It was stupid, though. No matter the sentiment.
“I screwed up, Dad. I’ve…” I sat on the couch, keeping my gaze on the shag rug. “I worked so hard to get a shot at JenCar and I blew it. They’ll never hire me after I graduate.”
Dad sat beside me. “Why’s that?”
I told him everything, not leaving out a single detail about getting the internship or losing it. He never said a word as I poured out my heart. He didn’t chide me when I told him how they escorted me from the building. When I finished, he reached out and squeezed my hand.
“You know what your mother would’ve said?” he asked, his voice softer than pillow stuffing.
I shook my head, finally raising my gaze to his.
“She would’ve said ‘fuck them, their loss.’” My mouth fell open and a quick smile crossed his face. “Liv, your mother would’ve said that in a heartbeat. Then she would’ve made you hot cocoa to help you feel better. Now, I can’t make cocoa like she used to but I can try.” He motioned toward the kitchen. “You wanna give it a go? See if we can come up with something close to her recipe?”
Despite my anguish, I smiled. “You know I can make it.”
“Yeah, I know.” He hugged me again. “You’ll be okay, munchkin. JenCar isn’t the end of your road. They were just a necessary detour.”
The kitchen was stuck in the seventies with the exception of the fridge and stove. The avocado counters and almond cabinets didn’t match the stainless-steel appliances. The only thing Dad hadn’t done was add a dishwasher. My brothers had to take turns washing the dishes every night—Dad said it built character. I believed it was more about teaching them responsibility. That and he was too cheap to redesign the entire kitchen to make room for a dishwasher. Besides, he’d always said Mom loved the retro feel of the kitchen even if it was out of style. It reminded her of her grandmother’s house. And it reminded Dad of Mom.
