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“The founder of the company, actually.” And before she can unleash a tirade about the grave injustice of all this, I explain what happened. She sits down on a barstool and shakes her head.
“This isn’t fair. You were in an impossible situation.”
I shrug. “I mean, it’s actually totally fair. I got a free vacation. I didn’t have to lie about it. It’s just my luck he showed up, and I got caught.”
Natalia rounds the counter to hug me, and I’m swallowing every few seconds just to keep from crying, because the last thing I want is for Mom to worry about me, when—although she doesn’t know it—she’s going to need to save all her maternal sympathy for Ami.
“Call your father,” Mom says. “Have him give you some money.”
“Mami, I’m not going to ask Dad for money.”
But Mom is already looking at Natalia, who picks up her phone to text my father on my behalf.
“Let me talk to David,” Tía Maria says, referring to Tío Omar and Tía Sylvia’s oldest son, the owner of a pair of popular restaurants in the Cities. “I bet he has a position for you.”
There are some benefits to having an enormous family: you’re never on your own to solve a problem. I don’t even care if David would have me washing dishes—the prospect of a job is such a huge relief I feel like I’m melting. “Thank you, Tía.”
Mom gives her sister a look. “Olive has a PhD in biology. You want her to be a waitress?”
Tía Maria throws her hands up. “You’re going to look down your nose at a job? Where’s her rent going to come from?”
“No one in this family is too good for any job that helps us pay our bills.” I step between them, kissing Tía Maria’s cheek and then Mom’s. “I appreciate any help I can get.” After Butake, I applied for all the local jobs I’m qualified for anyway, and only Hamilton offered me a position. Right now I’m so exhau
sted I’m not feeling picky. “Tell David I’ll call him tomorrow, okay?”
At this point in the day, I’m running on fumes. With at least one stress settled—the prospect of a job—my body deflates and all at once I feel like I could fall asleep standing. Although the food they’re making smells amazing, I know I’ll have a fridge full of it tomorrow and am not at all hungry right now. I throw a mumbled “Good night” to them and no one argues when I shuffle down the hall to my bedroom.
Flopping on my bed, I look at my phone. I have a couple of texts from Ethan I’ll read tomorrow, but I open my messages with Ami. She texted me about an hour ago.
Holy shit, Ollie! Dane told me about your job!
I just tried to call you!
I’ll call you tomorrow.
Okay, sweetie. Love you
Love you too
Dreading the conversation that I’m going to have with my sister tomorrow, I drop my phone onto my bedside table and pull the comforter over my head without bothering to get undressed. I close my eyes and fall into a restless sleep to the sounds of my family in the next room.
chapter seventeen
Because the early bird gets the worm or whatever, Ami is at my door before the sun is even fully up. She’s clearly already gone to the gym, all swinging ponytail and dewy complexion. She sets a bag with a set of clean scrubs on the back of the couch, which means she’s heading to the hospital from here. If the bounce in her step is anything to go by, Dane hasn’t said a word about last night.
In comparison—and we are nothing if not consistently on-brand—I’m tired, not yet caffeinated, and I’m sure it shows. I barely slept last night, stressing over paying rent, what I need to say to Ami this morning, and what will happen with Ethan when we finally talk about all of this. I have no plans for today or tomorrow, which is a good thing considering I need to call David and beg for a job.
Once I opened Ethan’s texts from last night, I saw there were only two, and they said, simply, Call me and Headed to bed but let’s talk tomorrow. Part of me is glad he didn’t bother trying to apologize in texts because I’m not a huge texter, and another part is mad he didn’t even try. I know I need some distance until I talk to Ami, but I’ve also grown so used to having near constant contact with Ethan and I miss him. I want him to chase me a little, since I’m not the one who messed up here.
Ami comes inside, embraces me tightly, and then bounds into the kitchen for a glass of water. “Are you, like, totally freaking out?”
I’m sure she means the job situation, so when I say, “Um, yes,” she really has no idea the scope of my anxiety right now. I watch her take down half the glass in a long gulp.
Coming up for air, she says, “Mom says David is going to hire you at one of his restaurants? That’s awesome! Oh my God, Ollie, I can come in on the slow nights and it’ll be just like when we were kids. I can help with the job search, or your résumé, whatever.”
Shrugging, I tell her, “That’d be great. I haven’t had time to call him yet. But I will.”
Ami gives me a look that is half-amused, half-bewildered that I seem to have forgotten how our family operates. “Tía Maria called Tío Omar, and Tío Omar got in touch with David, and you’re all set.”
