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“Sure, but I won’t be able to come pick you up again until midafternoon. You sure you want to be there that long?” His blue eyes hint at concern.
“Yes, I want to take the day to look for a job. I’ll bring some cash so I can eat in town.”
“All right. Can you be ready in fifteen?”
Jumping up off the counter, I beam. “Yes!” Tossing my dishes in the sink, I race down the hall to try and make myself as presentable as possible. I haven’t put a resume together or anything. I don’t even have a printer to put one on paper, even if I had. But I figure a face-to-face interaction might be my best chance anyhow.
Digging through my box of clothes, I pull out my nicest pair of black jeans—the ones with the fewest number of holes in them, that is—and a clean plaid shirt. Then I comb my hair back into a ponytail. I don’t know if that’s what goes for professional these days. Still, I don’t have the time or a curler to really make myself presentable anyway.
Gabriel joins me in the bathroom as I brush my teeth, and from the hint of a smile on his face, I can tell he’s trying not to laugh at my enthusiasm. It might seem silly to him, but I’ve never had a job before, and the prospect of having someone hire me is both nerve-racking and exhilarating.
When we head out to his bike a few minutes later, I swing my leg over the seat and wrap my arms around Gabe’s waist. It’s kind of nice to go on a morning ride with him, and my lined leather jacket staves off the chill breeze. The vibrations of the bike's motor match my buzzing anticipation, joining me in my excitement, and I smile as we race along the streets.
Gabriel slows as we reach the main cross section of downtown Whitfield. He rolls to a stop next to the curb and sets his feet down, steadying the bike so I can dismount.
“Thank you,” I say, pulling my helmet carefully over my hair and tucking it away in the back compartment.
Removing his helmet, too, Gabriel watches me. “Good luck?” he offers with a smile when I straighten.
I release a nervous laugh and come to stand in front of him, wrapping my arms around his neck. “Thanks. I need all the luck I can get.” Then I lean in to capture his lips with mine.
Resting his free hand on my hip, Gabe gives me a gentle squeeze. “I’ll pick you up here around three. Call me if you need anything.”
“Have a good day!” I call as I step back onto the curb.
Gabe slips his helmet back on and races away down the street. It’s strange to me how well we seem to have settled into this more typical life. No drama, no fighting, just a couple getting their feet on the ground in a new community. Taking a fortifying breath, I look around at the shops standing at the corners of the cross street.
Two are restaurants. One’s a bank, and the third is a convenience store of sorts, which is right behind me. Not really sure about what I might want to do, I figure I can approach at least the convenience store and restaurants. I don’t know that a bank would hire me. Turning to face the convenience store, I square my shoulders and walk confidently inside.
“Hello,” says the man behind the register.
“Hi,” I respond, putting on my brightest smile.
“Can I help you?” he asks as I approach the counter. Taking his feet down off of the counter, the heavy-set man stands to speak with me.
“Actually, I was wondering if you might be hiring.”
“Oh, um, we might actually. Do you have a resume?”
“No,” I admit somewhat bashfully. “I just moved to town and haven’t had the chance to put one together yet.”
“That’s all right for now. What’s your work history?”
“Oh, well… I don’t really have one.”
The man’s face twists into a perplexed expression. “You’ve never worked anywhere?” he asks in surprise.
My embarrassment escalates as my shoulders begin to lift defensively. “Well, I’ve been in school….” I supplement as a way of explanation, though I know many people still get jobs in high school and college.
“Do you have any references?” he asks helpfully.
“Um…” I draw a blank.What does that even mean?
“Maybe come back once you have a bit more experience,” he offers.
“But… how am I supposed to get experience if you won’t hire me?” His suggestion baffles me.
The attendant shrugs as he settles back into his seat. Frustrated, I huff and turn toward the door. Fleeing with what feels like my tail between my legs. Back outside in a matter of minutes, I contemplate my next move.Do I approach the restaurant next?Maybe they’ll be more open to someone with little experience but who’s willing to learn.
