Finding Love the Hard Way

by Vickery, Rebecca J.

  Slipping and sliding, they managed to get from the car to the front steps of the run-down apartment building. The kids thought it hilarious every time Mom almost fell. Noelle didn't think so and worried what would happen if she broke a bone. They had no relatives to help out, and no insurance.

  Don't think about it. Just get in the door. Get to the apartment.

  A low groan escaped Noelle when she found Mr. Rossi waiting in the foyer.

  "Rachael, here's the key. Go in and put your things away. Kenny, walk, please! Go in with your sister." She turned to face the grumpy man leaning against the wall.

  His red sweatshirt and matching pants hugged his rotund body. He wore a black watch cap all the time, even inside the building, and he always reeked of cheap cigarettes.

  "Mrs. Welborn, I need to speak to you."

  Noelle hugged her coat to her throat and moved closer, knowing what was coming. "Yes, Mr. Rossi. I hope you're feeling well."

  "I'd be better if you tenants would pay your rent on time and I didn't have to chase you down. You still owe half of last month and this month was due last week. When can I tell my boss to expect his money?"

  Not daring to tell him she lost her job and might be stiffed for a check, Noelle swallowed and tried to think. "I should have some of it Friday. I will really do my best. I'll catch up as soon as I can."

  "The boss said to give you this if you didn't have it. It says you have seven days to pay or you're out." Mr. Rossi looked pleased at the prospect as he handed her a sealed envelope with her name typed on front and an attorney's name and address in the corner. He seemed to dislike her and her children as much as they disliked him.

  "But that's against the law... You have to give me thirty days. I can have the money by then... I'm sure. Where will we go? What about my children?" Tears formed in Noelle's eyes as she tried to make the man listen to reason.

  "Hey lady, your kids and where you go ain't my problem. My problem is keeping my job if I don't collect the rent or toss you out. Besides, the paper I give you last month started the thirty days because you didn't pay in full. This here's just a final notice. Says that in the letter."

  Mr. Rossi suddenly looked her up and down, then stepped closer and lowered his voice to suggest, "A fairly, good-looking woman like you shouldn't have too hard a time making money in this town. I might help you out if..." His voice trailed off suggestively and he licked his lips.

  "Mr. Rossi, I'll pass." Noelle felt dirty just from his leer as she gripped the envelope he gave her with both hands to avoid smacking him. She turned and stomped up the stairs. "Germ-infested, roach carrying, flea-trap... And not just the blasted building, either," she fumed. Well, this sure made a great day even better.

  * * * * *

  "Are we in trouble, Mom? Did Mr. Rossi complain about us?" Rachael asked as Noelle slid out of her coat and hung it on the nail behind the door. Sitting at the wobbly-legged dining table with her schoolbooks spread out, a worried frown wrinkled young Rachael's brow.

  "No, you're not in trouble and neither is Kenny. Where is Kenny?" She took the man-style wallet from the front pocket of her slacks and tossed it in the bowl on the kitchen counter along with her keys. After being mugged for her purse several weeks before, part of the cause of this most recent financial mess, she now carried the billfold.

  "In our room, watching cartoons," Rachael answered and returned to copying her spelling words. In the second grade, her daughter was a dedicated student. With straight, shoulder length auburn hair, big blue eyes, pale porcelain skin, and her too-serious look, Rachael made Noelle think of Ken.

  Kenny, on the other hand, looked and acted like Noelle's father. How she wished her dad and mom were still alive. He'd been cheerful to the point of being aggravating, especially in the morning. Kenny was the same way with spiked carroty-red hair and brown eyes.

  Her mom had been a hugger – she never missed an opportunity to give everyone a squeeze. She'd had light brown hair and green eyes. Noelle wore her chestnut-brown hair short and her green eyes had brown flecks in them. She didn't look much like either of her parents. Neither of her children actually looked much like her, for that matter – probably a good thing as she tended toward being plain – plain and short.

  Noelle walked across the small living space used as a family room, dining room, and even her bedroom. Opening the door to the small room Kenny and Rachael shared, she looked in on her son. His plastic soldiers marched across the faded blue comforter of one of the single beds. The old table model television was on and he played as he watched his favorite after-school program. She couldn't help smiling at the explosive sounds he made as he held his private war.

  Closing the door, she sighed, and returned to the kitchenette to set out the makings for vegetable soup and grilled cheese sandwiches. Everything in the kitchen was small, out-dated, and crowded, but at least the stove got hot and the tiny refrigerator kept milk cold for her kids. The few pots and pans she had been able to keep when they lost the house, combined with the sparse groceries she managed to buy, took up the limited cabinet space. The place was definitely not what they were used to, but it was better than the streets.

  * * * * *

  The ice storm sweeping through upstate South Carolina kept them trapped inside for three days. People all over the southeast area lost power due to falling trees bringing down power lines, but miracle of miracles, so far, theirs kept working. The cold wind became so intrusive, Noelle and the children taped garbage bags over the windows to slow down the drafts blowing through. They also placed rolled towels along the bottom of the door to help keep the heat inside and the wind out.

  To pass the time and stay warm, they spent hours each day wrapped in blankets in the small bedroom. Watching TV, reading, playing board games and checkers, or just talking helped keep them occupied as they waited for the weather to break.

  Using the phone, which would soon be disconnected for non-payment, Noelle called everyone she could think of to ask about a job. No luck. Times were bad and people were losing jobs and homes all over the state. Even the temporary agencies had an abundance of workers and weren't taking applications. Many let machines pick up their calls and no longer bothered to answer in person.

  God, what am I going to do? In days, we'll be thrown out. I don't have anywhere to take my kids. I don't know what to do. Stretching out on the fold-down couch, Noelle cried herself to sleep for what felt like the millionth time since Ken died.

  * * * * *

  On Saturday morning, the sun came out and the temperature rose. The ice melted, creating a mixture of slush and mud. Noelle, Rachael, and Kenny ventured out to buy a loaf of bread and more makings for soup. With her money running low and the threat of being kicked out, Noelle concentrated on buying cheap, filling food.

  Regretfully, she said no to Kenny's request for chips and candy.

  In the frozen food section, Rachael begged, "Please, Mom, just one small pack of frozen waffles. I won't even ask for syrup."

  "I can't, Rachel. They're too expensive." Noelle didn't add that if she let Rachel choose something, she would also have to let Kenny get something in order to be fair. "Let's find something we'll all enjoy."

  To keep her promise, she found bruised bananas and oranges on the discount table, along with a bag of partially crushed cookies and a jar of popcorn to pop the old-fashioned way on the stove. That would have to do for treats.

  "C'mon, Mom... Just one candy bar, please," Kenny begged at the checkout line.

  "I'm sorry, Kenny, but no." Noelle remained firm even though her heart was breaking. "We have fruit and popcorn. It's much better for you. I can't afford to pay a dentist when the sweets rot out your teeth."

  Rachael followed along silently. She had not said anything else after being denied her favorite breakfast food.

  Refusing help from the bag boy, so she wouldn't feel guilty about not tipping him, Noelle and the kids carried their meager purchases to the car. Pulling carefully onto the still-damp roa
d, Noelle breathed a sigh of relief. She hated grocery shopping with such limited funds, and she disliked denying her children simple, harmless pleasures like a candy bar or a frozen waffle.

  "Kids, watch the shop windows for help wanted signs and shout out if you see one," Noelle requested on the drive back to the apartment. "Mom has to find a new job."

  "Okay, Mom. How do you spell it?" Kenny wanted to know as he began staring out at the stores along the main road.

  "Just look for the letters, h-e-l-p," his sister spelled it out for him. "Remember what those look like?"

  "Yeah, I know." Kenny mashed his face to the glass of the side window.

  "Mom, what will we do if you can't find a job?" Rachael asked, as she too scanned the store windows and marquees.

  "The best we can, Sweetkins. We'll manage. I have to sign up for unemployment on Monday. Maybe we can get food stamps. I'll see about all that on Monday while you two are in school. Try not to worry, we'll get by." Noelle gave her daughter a reassuring smile while screaming inside at the unfairness of it all.

  Chapter Two

  Monday, after dropping the kids at school, Noelle stood in line to apply for unemployment benefits, but to no avail. She had not worked enough quarters during the year to qualify, in spite of being laid off. There were no jobs immediately available, but she stood in another line to have her name added to a list in case something came in. After filling out her and her children's life history at the food stamp office, she was scheduled for an appointment to speak with someone in two weeks. The bored woman with cold, uncaring eyes at the counter shrugged, unconcerned, when Noelle asked what she was supposed to do to feed her kids in the meantime.

  The worst event of the day was when she stopped by her previous employer's shop to pick up her check. A large cardboard sign hung across the front stating Out of Business. The door wore a large padlock. Filled with numbing dread, Noelle inquired at the stores on either side of the clothing shop, but no one knew how to contact the former owners. New in town, they'd sold as much as they could, and obviously moved on to greener pastures – probably one step ahead of their creditors and employees.

  Without the wages owed to her, she couldn't buy food or put gas in the car, and she sure couldn't pay anything toward keeping them in the apartment. She could have dealt with forfeiting a couple days of pay, but not a whole week. Dropping her forehead onto the steering wheel, Noelle tried to think of what to do.

  While driving into this section of town, she thought she remembered seeing a sign for a local branch of a large charity organization. They were supposed to help people in need. Starting the car, she drove slowly down the street until she located it. Once she stopped in the vacant lot used for parking, Noelle sat and stared at the line snaking along the sidewalk in front of the building. People from every walk of life – ragged and dirty to clean and well-dressed – were trying to get help for themselves and their families. It should have made Noelle feel better to see she wasn't the only one seeking help, but it only added to her growing depression.

  Oh, no... I can't face another line today. Already one in the afternoon, she needed to pick the kids up at two-forty-five. No way could she stand in the endless line and make it to the school on time. Tomorrow... I'll do it tomorrow, she promised herself as she turned the key and drove away.

  Noelle stopped at every convenience store, every burger joint, and two hardware stores as she made her way through downtown Pickens. Most places wouldn't accept an application, and those who did never gave her any hope at all.

  Purchasing a local newspaper, she checked the classifieds for the entire upstate. Noelle was dismayed to see there were very few employment listings. One advertisement caught her eye, though. She twisted her gold wedding ring around on her finger. The small diamond had gone to have the car repaired and pay for Kenny's dental bill mid-summer. The gold band might buy her enough time to find a job. Once more, she fired up the old car and pulled out into traffic.

  * * * * *

  "Mom, you're always late," Kenny complained as he climbed in and closed the door.

  "What? No, hello, how was your day, for your old Mom?" Noelle teased her son.

  "Where were you, Mom?" Rachael demanded, nearly crying. "Almost everyone left already, and I was...was...really worried you wouldn't come."

  Noelle looked back at her daughter, seeing the strain on the pale, little face. "I'm sorry, Sweetkins. It's been a very busy day. I didn't mean to make you worry."

  "Did you get a job, Mom?" Kenny asked.

  "No, afraid not, but I did get a bit of money to help out until I do." She smiled at the kids and hoped they wouldn't notice her bare ring finger. "But we need to be very careful with the money we have."

  "Like always," Kenny groaned. "Can we have mac and cheese for supper, tonight?"

  "Would you like that too, Rachael?" Her daughter seemed far too quiet again.

  "Fine, Mom," the girl mumbled without enthusiasm.

  After getting the kids settled, Rachael to do homework and Kenny playing while watching TV, Noelle took money from her wallet and went downstairs to find Mr. Rossi. She knocked timidly at first, and then louder until he opened the door.

  "Yeah? What you need? Change your mind about...?" He waggled his eyebrows and puffed on a cigarette as he stood in the doorway.

  "I have part of the rent money. I can pay you two hundred dollars. That's the rest of last month and fifty dollars to start on this month. I'll have some more for you next week." Noelle hoped to have more next week, at least. She would figure out something if he would only work with her.

  "Can't do it, Mrs. Welborn. My boss said all or nothing. He's tired of messing with deadbeats. If you don't come up with the whole four-hundred-and-fifty by Friday, he said put you out." The building manager squinted at her through the smoke curling up from his cigarette.

  "Would you please give me his name and number? I'd like to speak with him, personally," Noelle insisted. She wasn't above begging for the good of her kids, but it would be senseless to waste it on Rossi.

  "He wouldn't like that. That's the reason he's got me. He don't want no tenants pestering him about these things. Now, either have all the money by Friday noon or get out. Nothing more to discuss – unless you decide to be extra nice..." He undressed her with his eyes during an up and down appraisal of her body.

  At her glare, he backed inside and slammed the door.

  "Drat that excuse for a man! May he rot..." Noelle gritted her teeth and forced back her temper. If she knocked on the door and said what was on her mind, they would be out of a place to stay before dark. Well, she had four more days.

  Chapter Three

  Noelle dropped the kids off at school on Tuesday and drove straight to the charity organization to try to beat the worst of the line. Groaning at how many people were already ahead of her, she took her place at the rear. Two hours later, she made it to the counter only to be told she would be added to a waiting list for when more funds became available.

  "But my children and I are going to be evicted on Friday. What can I do for shelter for them? We don't have anywhere else to go." Noelle saw the caring and the sympathy in the elderly man's eyes as she told him her problem.

  "Here's a brochure with the names of the homeless shelters in town. There are only three and they're operated on a first-come-first-serve basis. There aren't any guaranteed beds, but if you get there early enough, you might be able to get a spot. If you've been abused..." He started to hand her another pamphlet.

  "No...thankfully, that one doesn't apply...unless you count abuse by life in general." She waved it away. "What about government housing? Doesn't the fact I have two children who will be on the street concern anyone?"

  "Of course it does, ma'am. But a lot of these other folks here have kids too, or grandkids they've took in, or disabled family they look after. I'm sorry, but the government apartments are full. We can add your name to the priority list, because of the kids, but it's pretty long already. If you get
to the point where you can't provide for the kids," he reached for another brochure.

  She saw DSS in large letters across the top.

  "The Department of Social Services will provide a place for your children, or place them in temporary foster care if..."

  "Oh, no...! Please, don't even mention giving up my kids. I can't... I can't let it come to that. I'll think of something. Is there a cheap rooming house or a...a..." Tears welled up in Noelle's eyes and she hastily blinked them away.

  "I don't know of any. But you can check with some of the local churches. They might have someone who would take you in, temporarily. I really need to get to the next person in line, please," he prompted gently. "I'm sorry I can't help."

  Noelle realized, despite his sympathy, there was nothing else the man could do for her. She clutched the brochures tightly and stepped away from the counter. Staring at her feet instead of looking into the somber faces of those waiting in the ever-lengthening line, she walked slowly to her car.

  Now what? Once more she leaned her head on the steering wheel and let the tears fall.

  * * * * *

  Deciding to take the only action left, Noelle drove to the Pickens Sheriff's Office and filed a complaint against the employer who owed her wages. The deputy assured her it would be added to the multiple complaints already filed against the man.

  "I'm sorry, ma'am. Seems this fellow skipped town without paying any of his bills, and you're not the only employee he left high and dry. Problem is we figure he was operating under an assumed name and we don't know his real one. But we've got a good description and have an APB out for him. We've also talked with the Internal Revenue Service, hoping they will investigate regarding payroll tax fraud and such. He'll turn up sooner or later, and someone will get him." The deputy got to his feet, signaling her time with him was over.