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“You did, but I just don’t have a choice, Christine. Even though you’ve been here two years, you’re still the newest employee and I decided to do this according to seniority. I’m so sorry.”
I look down and clutch my large belly while fighting back tears. This can’t be happening. Then, Ben flips over the paper on his desk and hands it to me.
“Here, take this. I wrote a letter of recommendation for you, and I’ll be happy to give you a great reference wherever you go next. And I put some cash in the envelope to help tide you over until your next gig,” he says, handing over the envelope. “You’re going to be fine, Christine.”
Tears overwhelm me as I take the letter and envelope and clutch them to my chest with trembling fingers. A large sob erupts from my throat, and as a last ditch effort, I try once more.
“Please Ben,” I say between wracking cries. “I’m in my third trimester, and I need this job for me and my baby!”
Begging isn’t something I am proud of, but pride doesn’t mean anything at this moment. I’m about to deliver, for god’s sake! Plus, I’m already living paycheck to paycheck, and the puny balance in my checking account isn’t enough to make it through even one more month of living expenses.
But my manager merely shakes his head.
“I’m sorry, Christine. There’s nothing I can do. My deepest apologies.”
Still shuddering with sobs, I nod and heave myself out of the chair before waddling out of Benjamin’s office. This doesn’t feel real, but unfortunately it is, and my eyes are blurred with tears as I make my way out of Busy Books for the last time. Where will I go now? What will I do? A fresh cry rises from my throat as I grab my bag and stumble to the sidewalk, devoid of hope for the future.
2
Christine
My legs feel weak and my breath comes in shuddering gasps. A few passersby cast worried looks at me, but I manage to keep moving along while ignoring their gazes. Of course, I don’t have a clue where I’m going. The city passes in a blur, with cabs whizzing on the streets while people argue, stare, and shop, but I’m oblivious. I can’t think, I’m so confused.
After all, I’m about to give birth, yet how will I afford the delivery? Can I just give birth at the hospital and then pay them back later? Does my doctor offer payment plans? Can babies be put on layaway? My stomach lurches and I hurry towards a rest area up ahead. Maybe if I sit, I’ll be able to catch my breath at least.
To my surprise, there’s an empty bench in the sunlight, and I sink down gratefully. Slowly, I rub my hands over my arms, trying to warm myself up. It’s surprisingly cold for a sunny day, and after giving myself a few minutes to calm down, I assess the situation. Oh right, the envelope. It’s my severance, so to speak. Quickly, I pull the envelope out of my purse before ripping it open. Benjamin said it was a little something until my next job, so hopefully it’s a week or two’s worth of salary. Anything will help at this point.
But tears well up in my eyes again as soon as I see the contents. There are only a few bills inside, and tallying them up, I see that it adds up to fifty bucks. Damnit! What good is a measly fifty dollars going to do me? My monthly rent is in the four figures!
I stuff the cash back into the envelope and then shove the offensive item inside my purse before burying my face in my hands to cry. The baby’s going to be here before I know it, and now I’m going to lose the roof over my head. Plus, there are still crucial items I need to purchase, like bottles, diapers, and infant formula. How is this going to work?
Biting my lip, I run my fingers through my hair in frustration, practically pulling out the soft curls. Then with a growl, I grab my phone out of my purse and pull up Matt’s name from my contact list. Maybe my baby daddy and I aren’t together anymore, but this is his child whether he likes it or not. I’m going to tell him to send us money, but that thought is so ludicrous that an insane giggle bursts from my chest. I shove my phone back into my purse. Who am I kidding? Matt never wanted this child, which is exactly why we split up. He wanted me to get a termination, and I refused.
Not only that, but my ex-fiancé is a hopeless slacker whose greatest dream in life is to become a professional poker player. I have nothing against dreams, but let’s be honest: Matt’s never won a tournament in his life. In fact, he’s never won any prize money at all, so my doubts about his career are fully justified. Besides, my ex is a total ass, so I doubt he’d answer even if I did call or text him.
But sitting on this bench is only bringing me down, so I decide to take a stroll to soothe my nerves. At least walking’s still free, and maybe I can enjoy the beautiful weather while the sunshine beats on my shoulders. Slowly, I get up and start lumbering down the sidewalk, hoping that I’m not swaying too much from side to side. But people give me kind smiles and even make way for me because I’m so obviously pregnant.
I mosey past a few clothing shops, an optician, and a bakery with macarons in the window in a rainbow of colors. Should I? But I shake my head and keep going because each macaron probably costs a gold mine. Then, a very pretty brassiere catches my eye in the window of the next shop, and I see that I’m now in front Lily’s Paradise, a fancy lingerie boutique.
Snorting, I look down at myself. I can’t even remember the last time I bought myself lingerie, and even thinking about the worn underwear I’m wearing right now makes me cringe. My grimy granny panties come up over my belly button, and the fabric’s now a dishwater grey from being washed so much. Ugh.
But as I stare into the store, my heart thumps with longing. There are mounds of beautiful satin and lace heaped in piles, and I see a mannequin wearing a particularly fetching pink bra and panty set. I shouldn’t even be considering this. The last thing I need is to be spending money on frivolous lingerie, especially when there is zero chance anyone other than me will be seeing it. But I desperately need a pick me up, and before I realize what I’m doing, I’m opening the door to walk in. Maybe I’ll just look. I don’t have to actually buy anything.
Inside, the store smells sweetly floral, and it’s sectioned into an area for intimates, an area for perfumes and cosmetics, and another area for negligees and robes. Perfect. I head towards the bra and panty separates, ostensibly just to look, but right on the front table is a pink set with the cutest lace trim. They’re 100% cotton, and casually, I flip the tag to see the price. That’s when my lip begins to quiver. Twenty-five dollars for one pair of panties? And another forty-five for the matching bra? How can a simple lingerie set cost so much? There’s no way I can afford this, and these items are probably the cheapest things in the store.
Suddenly, my world comes crashing down again. I’m a poor, unemployed single mother about to give birth any day now. I don’t belong here, and a sob rises from my throat as I turn to leave. Lily’s is for pretty, chic women with doting husbands who buy them expensive strollers. It’s not for women like me, without a cent to their name. Tears fall from my cheeks as I put the panties back, and embarrassingly, an ugly sob escapes my throat as I rush to the front door. But then a voice stops me.
“Honey, are you okay? Can I help you with something?”
Quickly, I blink to clear my vision a bit, and turn to see a sweet looking middle-aged woman who’s holding out a monogrammed handkerchief. She’s elegantly dressed, and I see that the handkerchief matches the monogrammed purse she has slung over one elbow. Sniffing, I take the cloth and try to force a smile, but even that’s not happening today.
“No, thanks, I’m okay. I was just browsing.”
The woman smiles and nods with understanding. She’s maybe in her forties with dark brown hair pulled into a smooth, perfectly styled bun, while a black wrap dress flatters her curves. She holds her hand out to me, and not wanting to be rude I shake her hand.
“Well, I hope you feel better soon,” she says kindly. “We all have bad days. I’m Clarissa, by the way.”
I nod and sniffle pathetically again.
