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But most of all, I remember what it was like to have a mother figure. Someone to guide me. I don’t think I paid attention to what she was doing because I was too busy staring at her, secretly hoping it could be my mother doing the teaching.
“I can teach you if you’d like?” I offer, hoping she will trust me enough with what I see as a big moment.
Her eyes grow wide. “You will?”
“It would be my pleasure.”
I grab two fresh cups of coffee, spin her around toward the window, and grab my make-up from my bag. Her skin tone is similar to mine.
I take my time, telling her about each product, careful not to overdo it. She drinks in every sentence like a child learning about their favorite subject for the first time. She hangs on my every word. And that, I take seriously.
I hold up a small mirror. A single tear slides down her cheek.
“Beautiful.”
“Thank you, Claire.”
“I’ll reach out to someone about getting you some work experience in publishing. It might be an unpaid internship, but it will be a start. If it doesn’t work out, the local college runs courses.”
She drops her head. “You think I can do it?”
Tucking a finger under her chin, I tilt her head back. “I think you can do anything you set your mind to.”
When she leaves, I open my emails, shaking the tremble from my hands when I start typing.
From: [email protected]
Subject: Internship
Jake,
I understand your company has a publishing department. One of our girls is interested in pursuing a career in publishing. She’s only eighteen with no prior experience, and I’m at a loss where she should start.
Does your company offer internships? She’s willing to accept it unpaid.
I think getting her into the workforce will improve her confidence and chances for a successful progression outside of the shelter.
If this isn’t an option, I would like to put her name forward for the education program.
Kind Regards,
Claire Russell.
Xx
I press the send button before I realize what I’ve done.
Shooting up from the chair, I desperately press cancel.
“No. No. No. Do. Not. Send.”
Your email has been sent.
“Fuck,” I curse, sweat gathering at the nape of my neck.
I sent him kisses.
