Uncharted Fate

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Uncharted Fate Page 4

by Racette, Cynthia


  After dinner, her mother insisted on singing religious carols and asked Mallory to read the story of Jesus' birth from the Bible. It was something they had done with their grandparents since the children could remember, but this was the first reading without their father. Anna could tell that Mallory didn't want to do it. But she gave her daughter a look, and the teen accepted the Bible from her grandmother.

  The kids' presents were in her trunk and she fetched them and put them under the tree, along with a few for her mother. It was slim pickings for gifts went this year because she'd been forced to get the kids practical necessities like underwear and sweaters. She managed one frivolous gift for each but that was the extent of her funds for "toy" presents.

  They all woke up early Christmas morning and whizzed through the present opening since the numbers were down a little bit. Her mother made a yummy holiday brunch with a hand-made stöllen and a fancy egg strata.

  Mallory had been acting hostile toward Anna since they woke up. Anna knew it was her daughter’s grief over the family holiday Mike loved. She toned it down, though, whenever her grandmother was within earshot.

  In the afternoon, Mallory fixed herself a snack of some Christmas cookies and a glass of diet Coke, then left the cookies out uncovered and the two-liter bottle of soda without its cap. Anna called her back downstairs to clean up her mess.

  Clomping down the stairs like an elephant on rampage, Mallory had thrown her a long-suffering look and said, "Be real. You could have done it as easy as calling me all the way down from the bedroom. Geez." Then she'd flounced off to clean the mess she'd made.

  Mallory's grandmother had witnessed the entire episode and spoke sharply to her when she came into the kitchen. "Mallory."

  The girl jumped six inches off the floor as she swept her head around, threatening whiplash.

  "Do you always treat your mother like that?" Anna’s mother asked.

  Anna could see the wheels turning as Mallory tried to come up with an answer that would satisfy her grandmother. She didn't think fast enough.

  "I thought so. It's since your father died, isn't it?"

  Mallory nodded mutely, her shame palpable.

  "We all understand that you're going through a difficult time. What you have to realize is that everyone else is hurting, too. Your brother is hurting and more than anyone else, your mother is hurting. She suddenly has responsibility for herself plus you and your brother and she's going to have to go to work and manage a difficult financial situation now that she doesn't have your father's salary. Did you ever think of it like that?"

  "No," Mallory said in a tiny voice.

  "Are you going to apologize to her?"

  Mallory's head drooped to her chest. "I'm sorry, Mom."

  "And you'll try to do better?"

  "Yes, ma'am."

  "Okay, then. Clean up your mess and then you can go on upstairs and relax and listen to the new CDs I got you." Trusting that Mallory felt chastened enough to clean the counter without supervision, Anna and her mother left the kitchen.

  Mallory soon ensconced herself in her bedroom with the iPod she’d brought, and her two new CDs, for hour after hour of ear-splitting "music." After the incident over the mess in the kitchen, Anna let her be for the most part, and didn’t give her the usual lectures on turning the sound down to preserve her eardrums.

  Brian got the Heart of a Samurai from his grandmother for Christmas, and spent most of his time sprawled on her sofa with a book in one hand and a cookie in the other. He avoided his sister and barely talked to anyone.

  After a delicious roast beef dinner, her mother put on a DVD of "It's a Wonderful Life" and Anna noticed that even Mallory wiped a tear from her eye under the guise of straightening her hair.

  They came back home on Boxing Day. When the kids returned to school, Anna didn’t know whether to be relieved because they weren’t around to get on her nerves, or depressed because without them the house was too quiet.

  Rose, wearing her workaday outfit of wool slacks and sweater, came over as Anna was poring over the ‘help wanted’ ads in the newspaper she’d bought at the Stop-N-Go store last night. Anna was still in her bathrobe.

  "You really ought to sign up with one of the employment agencies," Rose said. She helped herself to a cup of coffee and sat down at the table. "The jobs in the paper aren’t the best jobs. You don’t want to bus tables. You want a professional-type job."

  Anna stopped skimming the ads. "Don’t you have to pay them a portion of your salary for a while?"

  Rose set her coffee cup on one of the folded papers. "Sometimes. The best jobs are fee-paid and employment agencies have better jobs listed than the newspaper. It’s worth it, though, even if you end up paying the fees.”

  "They're usually temp jobs, aren't they?"

  "Yes, but many of them do turn into permanent jobs. A lot of times, companies hire temps to see if they work out and then hire them on permanently if they do."

  "But I need money right now. There’s only a few hundred in the checking account and next-to-nothing in the savings account."

  "But you must have gobs of insurance money coming in."

  Anna’s smile probably looked as weary as she felt. "Not gobs. I've been told we were underinsured. And what we do have coming won’t be here for another month at least. These insurance companies have a fit if you're one day late with your payment and then it takes them three months to 'process' your benefit check. Meanwhile, the kids are taking peanut butter and jelly to school every day and we eat hot dogs and spaghetti. With no meatballs. I’ve cancelled the cable TV, the garbage service, and my weekly hair appointments. I don’t do my volunteer work anymore because I can’t afford the gas."

  Rose leaned across the table, her eyes concerned. "I'd no idea things were that bad. I’d like to lend you some money to hold you over."

  "No, please." Anna set her mouth in a firm line. "I appreciate the offer, but I need to do this alone. All my life people have been trying to make things easier for me. It’s time—more than time—I stood on my own two feet. We might not eat like we used to for a while and I may make mistakes before I get good enough at running my own life, but I have to do it. There’s no one to help me anymore." Her fingers clenched the pencil in her hand. "I’m on my own. And I’m going to make it work. I have to."

  "I’m glad, Anna. But if things get bad enough you have no money at all for food, you call me, pride or no pride. You’re my friend and I’m not going to sit by and watch you starve."

  "All right. I promise you if it’s a question of starving, I’ll call you. Though I hope it won’t get that bad. The kids’ve got a bit in their savings accounts, and I haven’t wanted to ask them for it, but if I have to, I will. And I’m letting all the payments lapse until the insurance check comes in. I only hope it gets here before they shut off my heat. Mr. Lemelin said he’d call the gas company and explain my situation. He said they’d probably wait for their money as long as they receive it sometime."

  Anna drained the last of the lukewarm coffee from her red mug and set it on the table with a clunk. She smoothed out the Sunday classifieds. "Back to work. I think I’ll try to get a job on my own for now, and then after the insurance money comes and I’ve got a little cushion, I’ll sign up with an employment agency to find a better job."

  "I suppose." Rose peered over at the paper Anna was holding. "What sort of ads were you looking at?"

  "First off, I tried going to social services because Mr. Lemelin figured my volunteer work in senior centers might help me get a foot in the door."

  "That was a good idea. What’d they say?"

  "They told me you need a degree for that kind of work. Ha. You don’t need a degree to spend hour after hour helping those people on your own. You need one, however, if you want to get paid for it."

  "You kn
ow a lot about helping those people after the time you put in. Doesn’t sound fair to me."

  "No. It isn’t fair. It’s just the way it is."

  "Isn’t there anything else you can think of that you know how to do?"

  "Not really. Everything else is a shot in the dark. Like these." She pointed her pencil to some ads near the bottom. "There are a couple of openings for receptionists. Maybe I could handle something like a receptionist job. I imagine all you’d have to do is sit at a desk in some lobby somewhere and answer the telephone and greet people when they come in. I think I’ll call a couple of these."

  Rose wished her luck and left. Anna called the numbers listed and made appointments for the following afternoon, then showered and dressed. After a good deal of consideration, she finally decided on her green herringbone tweed skirt and the white silky blouse with the big bow. She combed her short, blond hair as best she could. Without question, it needed trimming. But she couldn’t afford it. And that was that. She set off.

  The first address turned out to be a lawyer’s office. She filled out the application and gave it to the secretary. When the older woman read through it, she looked up and shook her head.

  Anna tensed and slid forward to the edge of her chair. "Is there something wrong with my application?"

  "It says here you don’t type or file or take dictation."

  "Yes, right, but it said the job was for a receptionist, not a secretary."

  "It is. The duties also include filing and typing from a Dictaphone. We require a typing speed of 60 words per minute from all applicants."

  Anna’s stomach fell. She’d never done anything but hunt and peck to type the occasional term paper. "I have three years of college. Doesn’t that help?"

  "I’m sorry. You don’t have the skills we require."

  Anna thought of the other interviews she’d lined up for receptionist jobs. Licking her dry lips, she asked, "Ah, do most receptionist jobs require typing and filing?"

  "I’m afraid so. You see, with many firms cutting back, most receptionists have to take on some secretarial duties. You might get lucky but I doubt it." She smiled in sympathy. "I’m sorry."

  With a sinking feeling, Anna nodded and left. The next address was an accounting firm and she got the same answer there. She was ready to give up but, since she’d already made the appointments, she decided to keep going in case she got lucky.

  When the final address turned out to be a plumbing supply store, she thought maybe at last she’d found a place which wouldn’t need a fast typist. She was right, they didn’t. However, they needed someone with bookkeeping experience to take over when everyone else was busy. She hadn’t even handled the family budget at home. She returned to her house, tired and discouraged.

  Sunday came, with its fatter paper and expanded ‘help wanted’ section, and Anna opened the evening newspaper to more closely study the ads that didn't run during the week. She wasn’t expecting much.

  "Let’s see," she murmured. "There must be something here. ‘AAA, Cab drivers,’ no good. ‘Accountant, experienced,’ nope. ‘Auto Mechanic.’ Yecch, I can’t even fix my own car. ‘Babysitter.’ I could watch kids while their mothers worked, but I bet it would pay next to nothing.”

  She kept looking. “‘Bookkeeper,’ no. ‘Bus driver,’ ‘Emergency Medical Technician, must have degree.’ Too bad.” She scanned the rest with mounting frustration. Nurse, Real Estate—experienced only, Respiratory Therapist, Roofer. What a laugh. Sales Rep, must be willing to travel. Teacher, Typist. None of the above.

  She threw down the paper in disgust. "Damn it. Everybody wants skills I don’t have or experience I can’t get, or an education I can’t afford. I'm going to try the internet."

  Mallory came downstairs when Anna called for her, and explained how to find ‘monster.com’ and others and how to fill out the profiles. Mallory told her that the New York Job Service had a website. Anna appreciated the help, even if her daughter had been a little condescending about her lack of internet skills.

  Several hours later she'd found two listings she thought were worth a try. She’d go fill out applications with them tomorrow.

  Thinking back to her college days, Anna remembered her wonderful evenings with William Wordsworth and Charles Dickens and William Blake. Fat lot of good they were doing her bank account right now. She should have gone for something more mundane like secretarial school or nursing.

  The following week, Mallory came in as she sat dejected at the kitchen table, her chin propped in her palm. Anna looked at the clock and noticed it was five-thirty. Her heart gave its customary flutter. That time again.

  "Hi," she said. "It’s late. Where’ve you been?"

  Mallory shot her a hostile look and dumped her books on the table. "Why? You checking up on me?"

  "Yes. You’re not grown up yet, you know." Anna made herself walk casually over to the refrigerator to take out the last three hot dogs for supper. "You usually get home around two-thirty. Did you stay after school for French Club or something?"

  "No, I dropped out of my clubs. They were boring." She stood, defiant, in the middle of the kitchen floor, her arms crossed. "Terry Baker and Kevin and I went window shopping after school. Then we hung around downtown."

  "Hung around? Hung around where?"

  "We all got milkshakes at McDonald’s."

  "How did you get a milkshake? You don’t have any money."

  "I got some from Terry."

  "I don’t like the idea of you borrowing money from other kids to have things like milkshakes. Particularly since you won’t be able to pay her back."

  "Terry didn’t lend me money, she gave me money."

  "Even worse. Who’s Terry? You never mentioned her before." Anna closed the refrigerator door and faced Mallory, her hands on her hips. "And Kevin? You’ve never mentioned him before, either."

  Mallory flipped her hair over her ear with her fingertips in an insouciant gesture. "Oh, I’ve known Terry a long time. I never hung around with her, that’s all. And Kevin is her boyfriend."

  "Boyfriend? Is she in your class? None of your other friends have started going out with boys."

  "Lots of girls have boyfriends." Mallory grimaced. "Adrienne and Chris seem terribly dreary lately. They never want to do anything fun. Probably why they don’t have boyfriends. I haven’t seen them in a while. Terry is in my homeroom and I heard her say she was going shopping after school. I asked her if I could go and she said sure."

  "I don’t think I like all this much." Anna frowned. "What stores did you go to?"

  "Nowhere special. Around downtown." Mallory looked exasperated. "Dad never cross-examined me like this. He trusted me. I was his baby girl." Tears started to gather in her eyes. She blinked them away.

  "Downtown? Then you didn’t take the school bus home?" Anna persisted.

  "Of course not."

  "Then how did you get home?"

  "Kevin’s brother’s in high school and he gave me a ride."

  Anna’s brewing anger erupted and she strode forward until she was right in front of Mallory. "You rode home in a car with Kevin’s brother? Kevin, who you only met today and his brother, who could have been any kind of weirdo for all you knew?"

  "Moth-er. Don’t be Stone Age. Not every man in the world is a rapist." She turned to walk haughtily to her room, but Anna caught her arm.

  "Maybe not, young lady. But you know better than to accept rides from strangers. Some of the high school boys who own cars do a lot of joyriding. Next time you let someone give you a ride, make sure you know him well enough to trust him to drive careful and to bring you straight home. You got that?"

  "I got it," Mallory sneered. "Loud and clear. Now if you’re through with your lecture, I want to play a CD Terry gave me." She swung her purse onto her shoulder and stal
ked off to her room, slamming the door.

  "God, she’s getting to be a real drag since Dad . . . left," Mallory mumbled to herself as she threw her jacket on the floor.

  She plopped herself down on the bed and took the CD out of her purse, peeling the wrapper off. She put it in her stereo, laid down on the bed, slipped on the earphones, and turned up the volume. Closing her eyes, she let the strident base of "Smashing Pumpkins" latest album pound her ears with noise.

  With the volume turned up so high, she could close her eyes and pretend the rest of the world didn’t exist.

  Chapter 4

  It was the middle of March and the weather was starting to turn milder. The snow melted, albeit in a messy, ugly manner.

  The estate had finally been settled and Anna’s accounts looked, at least for the time being, healthier. The insurance check had arrived three weeks earlier, so she’d been able to pay all her bills and pay off the car and furniture. Reducing her monthly bills to the house payment, heat, utilities, and food did help.

  But those were enough to make her realize she’d better find some kind of job, any kind of job, soon. They weren’t eating hot dogs every night anymore. Since she was being thrifty and careful with their money, they weren't eating steak, either.

  Anna made forays into the business and industrial world almost daily. She knew the ‘help-wanted’ ads well enough that a mere glance at them every night told her if there was a new job listed. Every time one turned up for which there was a remote possibility she could be hired, she applied for it the next day. Thus far she’d received only a varied list of rejections. Finally, she decided she had no choice except to take Rose’s advice and go to an employment agency downtown.

  She had an interview with one this morning and dressed with care in a light blue wool dress. Once there, she filled out the multitude of forms and answered all the interviewer’s questions, just as she'd done dozens of times over the past month. The interviewer listened closely and made notations on the bottom of her application.

 

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