“I loved working with the families, especially the children, building bonds and earning their trust. One of my favorite parts was getting to know them and assessing them. Each case is unique and each person is special,” I say, in an attempt to distract her. “I also enjoyed the paperwork, believe it or not. I liked the mix of working out in the field, and at the office. I always made myself available for emergency calls, to my ex-husband’s dismay.” I don’t mention the fact that my job essentially broke my marriage. Obviously, we’re on a need-to-know basis here.
She smiles again. “Yes, social work can be all-consuming, but it can also be very rewarding.”
“For sure,” I agree.
She gazes down at the job description on her desk. “As you already know, the job duties are extensive: psychological assessments and evaluations, implementation of care plans, maintaining department records and documents, consultation and supervision, emergency calls, advocating and providing resources, maintaining up-to-date information and much more.”
I nod enthusiastically. “All duties I had at my previous position,” I point out. “Let me assure you that I’m highly enthusiastic about this position and I’m the perfect candidate for the job. My personal issues are a thing of the past, and I promise they won’t affect my work. If you give me a shot, I’ll make you proud. That’s a promise.”
Her eyes grow wide, and so does her smile, which I take as a good sign.
I have a good feeling about this.
“Well, thank God that’s over,”I cheer as I take a sip of my celebratory green apple martini. No, I didn’t get the job yet. We’re just celebrating the completion of the interview at Olive Garden and I feel amazing. A heavy weight has been lifted off my shoulders.
“You’ll get it,” Gretchen says. “I can feel it.”
I smile at her. “Thanks, I hope so.”
“But we’ll miss you,” Claudia chimes in. “We liked having you around these past few months.”
I pout. “I know… no more afternoon coffee for me. I’ll miss you guys.”
“I’ve been thinking about getting a job too,” Gretchen pipes in.
“Really?” Mischa asks. “But Ethan is still so small.”
“I know. I’ll probably wait a bit, but I’m kind of going crazy at home. I need to move on with my life, after everything…”
Her voice trails off, and all our hearts break a little. Gretchen’s husband died over two years ago in a horrible car wreck.
“Well, speaking of work. I need to duck out early today,” Claudia says. “I need to drop by the thrift store for props.”
I smile. Claudia has the coolest job. She’s a stage manager/set designer at The Den Theatre.
“Oh, that’s too bad,” I say. “I haven’t even had a chance to tell you all about my hot new neighbor.”
Claudia’s brows perk up. “Oooooh,” she says. “Well, maybe the props can wait. Dish, girl.”
I laugh. The girls are all ears. “He’s hot,” I start. “So I’m busy running around, getting ready for my interview and I hear this knock at my door. At first I thought it was one of you guys doing a pop-in.”
“Claudia’s the only one who does that,” Mischa points out.
“I’m not,” she argues. “Abigail does it too.”
I laugh. “Do you guys wanna know about this hot guy or not?”
“We do. We do,” Gretchen cheers.
“Anyway, I open the door, and there’s this beautiful specimen of a man standing there. Dirty blond hair, a little too long, and the most arresting blue eyes I have ever seen. And that smile…” There was something about that smile.
Gretchen frowns. “Figures. Why couldn’t I be the one with the hot new neighbor?”
I smile at her. “So anyway, he’s wearing a Led Zeppelin t-shirt, and I’m checking him out, and his fly is open!”
“No way!” Claudia screams, and heads turn.
“Yes way.”
