Page 10 of Naughty Heart

So, with a bunch of resumes I’d printed off this morning clutched in my hand, I was making my rounds, praying that I’d find some luck on my first day of the job search.

I finally made it to the downtown area, and I was surprised that not even the sights and sounds of the season could improve my mood.

I wanted to have a better outlook, but after so many years of facing one disappointment after another, it was probably time to start being realistic.

“Santa Claus is Comin’ to Town”was playing in the air. It was strange. I knew the music was always here, but I never really took notice of the logistics of how it happened. In any other case, I’d have been singing along, doing what I could to try to enjoy the spirit of the season, even if the songs often left me feeling lonely.

I desperately needed Santa to visit the town and make a stop at my apartment this year. It was either that or by some divine miracle that I was going to make it through the winter.

I’d made it through the first block, crossed the street to the next, and took in the shops along the way that might be viable options if any of the ones on this side of the street didn’t pan out.

There was a bookstore on the corner that had been here for as long as I could remember. I walked in, asked about employment opportunities, and was unfortunately, turned away. The woman inside was nice enough, but she simply wasn’t looking to hire anyone.

Two doors down from the bookstore was a spa.

A spa.

As I walked up to it, I slowed my pace and looked through the large glass windowpane. I would have done anything to know what that was like. Not to work there, but to have enough money to be able to treat myself to a full day of pampering and not have to give it a second thought. And when a woman walked out, smiling brightly and looking like a million bucks, I felt a wave of jealousy move through me.

Was this how it was always going to be? Was I forever going to be the girl who never knew anything but work and misery?

Misunderstanding why I was standing just outside the spa, the woman beamed at me and said, “Enjoy your massage or facial or whatever you’re going in for. We all need to do something for ourselves with all the holiday madness, don’t we?”

I couldn’t admit the truth. “Yes, we do. Looks like you enjoyed yourself.”

“Tremendously. But now I’ve got to run. Merry Christmas!”

“You, too.”

I watched the woman walk away and wanted that. Not whatever money she had or even the massage she might have just gotten. But I wanted the attitude, the ability to seem so upbeat and carefree for just once.

I wondered if she even knew just how lucky she was.

Brushing it off, needing to not live in a fantasy world, I walked up to the door and came inside. Now that I was here and had asked if they were hiring, I noticed just how tense I was. My fingers were gripping my resumes in my hand so tightly, it was as though I was worried someone might want to rip them away from me.

“We are. We’re actually currently looking for a massage therapist and an aesthetician. Do you have qualifications for either position?”

Damn it.

I shook my head. “No. No, I was looking for a receptionist type position. I don’t have any training for the other positions.”

The girl at the front desk offered a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry. We don’t have any other openings. If you’d like to drop off a resume, we’d be happy to keep it on file and contact you if anything pops up.”

“That would be wonderful,” I said, attempting to appear excited as I held out my resume.

After taking it from me, the woman glanced down at it briefly before she returned her attention to me. “It was nice to meet you, Evelyn. We’ll be in touch if a position opens up.”

“Thank you for your time.”

“You’re welcome. Merry Christmas.”

At that, I walked out and sighed.

I knew it was unrealistic to assume I’d have luck after only visiting two places, but I couldn’t seem to shake the overwhelming feeling of despair. I mean, it would have given me just a little bit of hope to know that someone was hiring, so I could fill out an application. At least then I’d have a chance at securing a job.

Slowly, I turned to the side and started moving again. I continued my trek down the sidewalk toward the coffee shop, three doors down. And just as I stepped up to the door, someone walked out. The gentleman held the door for me to enter.

“Thank you,” I said.