Chasing the Tide
Page 19
I smeared the sticky, red stuff all over the pretty, pink wall.
When I was finished I found their markers and wrote I hate you in big letters.
Mrs. Johnson found me scribbling on the walls. She took in the sight of her daughters’ bedroom and started yelling. She grabbed me by the arm and yanked me out into the hallway.
She screamed in my face but I didn’t hear her.
Because I felt better.
I had hurt them just like they hurt me.
I didn’t even care that they’d never want to keep me now. I didn’t care that they weren’t going to be my family.
I had to start taking care of myself.
I couldn’t depend on anyone.
**
I had spent all week driving around looking for work. I had put in at least a dozen applications. I had applied for a few secretarial positions and a couple of retail jobs. Nothing that really utilized my degree, but for now, I’d be okay with a steady income.
I hadn’t planned much beyond moving back to Wellston and now I was struggling to figure out the next step.
“How’s it going?” Nadine asked after calling me on my way to scour yet another town for employment.
“Well I haven’t earned my millions yet, if that’s what you’re asking,” I replied drolly. Flynn would be home early, so I planned to stop at the grocery store after job hunting. He had been in staff meetings that had lasted late into the evening all week and I felt as though I had barely seen him.
He’d come home after work, eat a quick dinner, usually consisting of a chicken salad sandwich and banana bread, then we’d walk Murphy before going to bed.
I could admit I was having a hard time fitting in with his routine. It was so established. So part of him that it felt whole and complete without me.
I would often sit up long after Flynn was asleep hatefully wondering whether I was content with this being my life. Whether this painfully routinized existence was something I could be okay with…forever.
I felt like a total asshole for even thinking it. But it was there all the same. Ugly, nagging thoughts that wouldn’t go away no matter how much I wished they would.
“How’s New York?” I asked, putting my phone on speaker so I could drive and talk without crashing into a tree.
“You know. It’s New York. Which means it’s freaking awesome,” Nadine enthused.
“I wouldn’t know. I’ve never been there,” I remarked, pulling up in front of a non-descript office building. I had read online that Lambert and Associates, an accounting firm, was hiring a new receptionist to answer phones and sort through mail.
I was sure it would be less than thrilling work, but beggars can’t be choosers.
I checked my reflection in the rearview mirror, tucking a stray piece of blonde hair behind my ear.
I picked up my nicely printed resume and looked it over. There wasn’t a whole lot in the way of applicable work experience, but everyone had to start somewhere, right?
“You should come for a visit. I can show you what you’re passing up by not coming with me. Bring Flynn! Make a vacation out of it. I don’t have a lot in the way of room, but I could spring for an air mattress,” Nadine offered.
“Yeah, I don’t know,” I said, knowing that no matter how much I wanted to go, Flynn wouldn’t be up for it. He hated crowds. He hated cities. He hated anything new an unfamiliar.
“Oh come on!”
I wanted to go. I wanted to so badly. Maybe I could talk Flynn into going.
“Yeah, okay, I’ll talk to him,” I said.
“Awesome! Let me know! I’ve got to get back into work. How’s your job search going?” she asked and I bit down on a sigh.
“It’s going,” was all I offered.
Nadine, having known me for the better part of three years, knew what that meant. She had become accustomed to my flippant evasions. “You’ll find something, Ells. Just keep looking.”
“That’s what I keep telling myself.” I got out of the car and locked the door.
“Is it potato chips time?” she asked and I laughed.
“No scary mountain men yet.”
“Thank god. I was picturing Deliverance territory out there,” Nadine responded, sounding worried.
“I’m good. No need to call out the cavalry just yet,” I assured her, straightening my slacks and blouse.
“Start planning a visit. Seriously. I think it would be good for you and Flynn. Who knows, maybe you could convince him to move here. Get you guys out of that po-dunk town for good.”
I already knew Flynn’s feelings about moving. They were the same reasons he wouldn’t come with me when I left to go to school. His roots were here. His life was here.
I had to respect that if I wanted to be with him.
And I did.
I really did.
I wasn’t trying to convince myself was I?
After hanging up the phone, I took a deep breath, and walked into the office building.
I approached a frazzled looking woman who was talking on the phone, a pencil stuck in her hair. I stood there patiently for the first few minutes. The woman’s name placard read, Wilma Hindgardner. She definitely looked like a Wilma. Drab and uninteresting.
I started taping my fingers on the counter. Wilma narrowed her eyes at me and I forced myself to stop, though I wanted to amp it up to full on fist pounding.
Have I mentioned that I have defiant tendencies? Ones that I was trying really hard to curb?
When Wilma was finally off the phone she looked at me with pursed lips. “Can I help you?” she asked.
When I was finished I found their markers and wrote I hate you in big letters.
Mrs. Johnson found me scribbling on the walls. She took in the sight of her daughters’ bedroom and started yelling. She grabbed me by the arm and yanked me out into the hallway.
She screamed in my face but I didn’t hear her.
Because I felt better.
I had hurt them just like they hurt me.
I didn’t even care that they’d never want to keep me now. I didn’t care that they weren’t going to be my family.
I had to start taking care of myself.
I couldn’t depend on anyone.
**
I had spent all week driving around looking for work. I had put in at least a dozen applications. I had applied for a few secretarial positions and a couple of retail jobs. Nothing that really utilized my degree, but for now, I’d be okay with a steady income.
I hadn’t planned much beyond moving back to Wellston and now I was struggling to figure out the next step.
“How’s it going?” Nadine asked after calling me on my way to scour yet another town for employment.
“Well I haven’t earned my millions yet, if that’s what you’re asking,” I replied drolly. Flynn would be home early, so I planned to stop at the grocery store after job hunting. He had been in staff meetings that had lasted late into the evening all week and I felt as though I had barely seen him.
He’d come home after work, eat a quick dinner, usually consisting of a chicken salad sandwich and banana bread, then we’d walk Murphy before going to bed.
I could admit I was having a hard time fitting in with his routine. It was so established. So part of him that it felt whole and complete without me.
I would often sit up long after Flynn was asleep hatefully wondering whether I was content with this being my life. Whether this painfully routinized existence was something I could be okay with…forever.
I felt like a total asshole for even thinking it. But it was there all the same. Ugly, nagging thoughts that wouldn’t go away no matter how much I wished they would.
“How’s New York?” I asked, putting my phone on speaker so I could drive and talk without crashing into a tree.
“You know. It’s New York. Which means it’s freaking awesome,” Nadine enthused.
“I wouldn’t know. I’ve never been there,” I remarked, pulling up in front of a non-descript office building. I had read online that Lambert and Associates, an accounting firm, was hiring a new receptionist to answer phones and sort through mail.
I was sure it would be less than thrilling work, but beggars can’t be choosers.
I checked my reflection in the rearview mirror, tucking a stray piece of blonde hair behind my ear.
I picked up my nicely printed resume and looked it over. There wasn’t a whole lot in the way of applicable work experience, but everyone had to start somewhere, right?
“You should come for a visit. I can show you what you’re passing up by not coming with me. Bring Flynn! Make a vacation out of it. I don’t have a lot in the way of room, but I could spring for an air mattress,” Nadine offered.
“Yeah, I don’t know,” I said, knowing that no matter how much I wanted to go, Flynn wouldn’t be up for it. He hated crowds. He hated cities. He hated anything new an unfamiliar.
“Oh come on!”
I wanted to go. I wanted to so badly. Maybe I could talk Flynn into going.
“Yeah, okay, I’ll talk to him,” I said.
“Awesome! Let me know! I’ve got to get back into work. How’s your job search going?” she asked and I bit down on a sigh.
“It’s going,” was all I offered.
Nadine, having known me for the better part of three years, knew what that meant. She had become accustomed to my flippant evasions. “You’ll find something, Ells. Just keep looking.”
“That’s what I keep telling myself.” I got out of the car and locked the door.
“Is it potato chips time?” she asked and I laughed.
“No scary mountain men yet.”
“Thank god. I was picturing Deliverance territory out there,” Nadine responded, sounding worried.
“I’m good. No need to call out the cavalry just yet,” I assured her, straightening my slacks and blouse.
“Start planning a visit. Seriously. I think it would be good for you and Flynn. Who knows, maybe you could convince him to move here. Get you guys out of that po-dunk town for good.”
I already knew Flynn’s feelings about moving. They were the same reasons he wouldn’t come with me when I left to go to school. His roots were here. His life was here.
I had to respect that if I wanted to be with him.
And I did.
I really did.
I wasn’t trying to convince myself was I?
After hanging up the phone, I took a deep breath, and walked into the office building.
I approached a frazzled looking woman who was talking on the phone, a pencil stuck in her hair. I stood there patiently for the first few minutes. The woman’s name placard read, Wilma Hindgardner. She definitely looked like a Wilma. Drab and uninteresting.
I started taping my fingers on the counter. Wilma narrowed her eyes at me and I forced myself to stop, though I wanted to amp it up to full on fist pounding.
Have I mentioned that I have defiant tendencies? Ones that I was trying really hard to curb?
When Wilma was finally off the phone she looked at me with pursed lips. “Can I help you?” she asked.
