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“And yesterday, when I finally decided I should go to his office and at least talk to him and clear the air, I never even got the chance. There was a termination letter waiting on my desk.” I shrug. “He got ahead of it,” I tell Chloe now regretfully and her face shows her disappointment before I even add. “They fired me, Chloe. Just like that. And the kicker? They cited assault and work negligence.”
“What?” Her mouth was open in shock, just like mine had been at the time I’d read that letter.
“Yeah. And what could I do? I couldn't even ask what the heck they meant by that.” I tell her dejectedly. “Greg, my pervert boss, owns the company. So, it’s not like I could even fight it. And even if I wanted to, I was fired effective immediately with a pathetic severance package. All I had time to do was pack my things and get out as soon as possible, or they’d throw me out.”
“The nerve on that man.” She’s just as upset as I was.
“If only it ended there…” I shake my head. “But as I was walking out with my desk packed into a box, he stood by the entrance talking to a colleague of mine. He smiled when he saw and waved, muttering something I didn't quite catch. That bastard.”
As I’m reliving the most humiliating moment of my life, anger simmers to a boil inside me. I'm usually not the type to swear, but I’m flooded with fury at the injustice of it all. I want to break something, preferably Greg’s stupid face.
But there’s absolutely nothing I can do about it.
Except, of course, despair.
And there’s a lot of despair to be had. In the span of a week I went from being sure I was getting promoted to being out of a job.
“It’s funny,” I say. “Growing up, I always thought that life rewarded you based on how hard you worked. Isn’t that what they say? If you’re a good person and simply try your best, things will get better. I mean, you know when I was younger, I always stayed out of trouble, despite not having much growing up. I made sure I was a nice person and did nice things when I could. I kept my head in my books, stayed away from parties, and didn’t do any of the stuff all the other cool kids were doing.”
Chloe nods. We go back a long way and she knows all this. We have been best friends forever and in all that time, the only time I had strayed had been the time my whole life had changed. In a major way. One mistake was all it took back then too.
Except this time, my mistake was not telling HR about Greg early enough.
“I should have reported him, I know that. Probably wouldn’t have mattered. They could have simply twisted my words and gotten rid of me anyway, but at least I’d know that I’d tried. That I had the situation in a report, in a paper somewhere stuck in the back of a file. But now I don't even have that. I have nothing.”
“That’s not true,” Chloe says, revealing that I said the last part out loud. “You have me. And Mimi.”
The thought of my daughter is the only thing that could somewhat draw me out of my melancholy. It’s usually enough to put me in a good mood. Just picturing her gap-toothed smile. Her long ringlets of blonde hair cascading down her shoulders. Her tiny little hands flapping around in excitement when she finishes one of her puzzles. Her beautiful brown eyes blinking up at me inquisitively whenever she has a question. Or tells me something really fun she just found out.
“I know.” I sigh, rubbing my hand over my face. “Mimi is my biggest concern in all this.”
“I don’t understand.” She cocks her head.
“You know Mimi. Her intellect is out of this world. I know I’m biased, being her mom, and I thought maybe I was exaggerating or that maybe she just saw the world differently, but I could see how other people’s kids and even her little colleagues in school were nothing like her. Well, last week, Mimi’s teacher told me that she doesn’t think Mimi is getting anything from them and that she maybe shouldn’t attend public school next year. Says that she doesn’t think it would be good for her, intellectually. It might hold her back or frustrate her.” I shake my head. “She also worries about Mimi fitting in there, because she’s already having trouble making friends in Kindergarten.” That part broke my heart because I know my daughter is truly a sweet-spirited person. But kids can be cruel to those who are different somehow.
“What school does she think she should go to?” Chloe asks now.
“Atlas Academy,” I reveal. “It’s a school for gifted children that Mrs. Diana thinks will stimulate Mimi and help her reach her true potential. The problem is, it costs a whopping forty kay a year.” I look at my hands. “I could have handled the tuition had I gotten the promotion at Clarkson. It’s why I’ve been killing myself at work trying to get that promotion in the first place. With it, I could get my daughter there and I would also be able to give her fun things that other kids at the school have. I could set her up for a bright future where she would have wanted for nothing. I would have been super mom.” Tears are threatening to drown me, but I hold them back by sheer power of will. “Instead, now, I’m the unemployed mom. The mom who let her down. The failure.”
“Are you done wallowing in self-pity yet?’ Chloe’s light tone shoots through my thoughts.
I glance at my best friend. She looks amused, although I’m not sure why. But then again, Chloe always has strange reactions to things. Last year, when her pet rabbit died, she threw a party. She loved the rabbit, it was her heart, but you wouldn’t know by the way she was acting. She danced all night long at his send-off to weird disco electronic music. She says it's to celebrate his life and his ascension to Valhalla. I wasn’t sure which religion she was indulging in then—I’ve lost track at this point—but it seemed a little far-fetched to me.
“I think I’m entitled to it. Besides, is there anything better I could be doing?" I ask.
She shrugs. “I was just wondering if you were done, so I could tell you the very simple solution to your problem.”
“Oh yeah? And what solution might that be?”
She smiles as though she can already tell that I won’t like what she has to say. But then she says it anyway. “You should call my brother, and ask him to give you a job.”
I gape at her. Then I nearly laugh because the idea is so ludicrous that she has to be joking. Right? But she’s not telling me the punchline yet.
“You’re serious?” I ask just to confirm.
“As a heart attack,” she says. "Why would you think I’m joking?”
“Because you did not just recommend that I call uptheMaddox Reign and ask him for a job.”
