The Offer (3 page)

Meredith has
never liked me and the last thing I need is her gloating, so I
hightail it out of his office before she can get a glimpse of my
red and distraught face. I quickly gather my purse from my cubby in
the staffroom, grateful for once that while I was the company’s
visual stylist for the past three months, I never had a desk of my
own. What a pain that would be to clean out.

I don’t even
say goodbye to Priscilla, the buyer whom I’d become somewhat close
with, or Tabby, the regional merchandiser, someone whose job I
hoped to have one day. I’m just too ashamed to tell them what just
happened and I feel worse when I suspect maybe they knew all
along.

When I first
got the job for the popular yoga clothing chain, Rusk, I thought
I’d finally made it. I’d spent enough time taking two steps forward
and one step backward. The city doesn’t always make it easy on you,
no matter what industry you’re in. And fashion is definitely one of
the more challenging ones.

I went to
college with Stephanie at the Art Institute in downtown San
Francisco, connecting with her after being decades apart. I grew up
near Steph in Petaluma, a town north of the city, and I knew her in
grade school until my parents got divorced and I moved with my mom
to the Pacific Heights in San Francisco to live with her terribly
rich new husband. Long story short, after spending high school with
the rich kids – and being one of the rich kids – I enrolled myself
in college, wanting to do something with my passion for fashion.
After all, the garments I designed and made in my spare time, ones
with screen-printed graphics and kooky phrases, would never grant
me an income or a career. They were good but not “that good” (as my
ex-stepfather had pointed out). So, I thought a career in fashion
merchandising would be the next best thing.

And it was. I
mean, school was amazing. I finally felt in my element, surrounded
by people who understood my passion, who “got” me. But finding jobs
after school wasn’t so easy. And even though I managed to snag a
few internships in some pretty important places (Banana Republic
being one of them), I struggled to find a job that was related to
my field and paid enough to give Ava everything she needed.

That’s usually
what it came down to, my daughter. Her arrival was a curveball to
my perfectly crafted life but I took it in stride, determined to
love her. And I do, with all my heart. I never regretted keeping
her for a second. But it was Phil, my baby daddy’s leaving that
really undid me. And after that, everything just kind of kept
falling apart. Me and Ava against the world.

One day,
though, while I was still with Phil, I thought my prayers had been
answered. I had gotten a job at an online jewelry store as the
copywriter and buyer. It was actually pretty amazing. The pay was
excellent and all signs pointed to a long and promising career. But
online retail is a cutthroat and fickle industry, so after a couple
of years the site went bankrupt. I was out of a job. Then I was out
of a boyfriend. Then my mother cheated on her new husband and,
thanks to the indemnity clause, I was out of any extra financial
support as I bounced around the city from a nice apartment to a
so-so studio to a run-down in the sketchy Tenderloin district
trying to find work again in the industry.

Finally, after
a yearlong maternity leave stint as a sales clerk in the Nordstrom
shoe department (not at all what I wanted to do but it paid the
bills), I came across the position at Rusk. I thought I found
something that would kindle my passion while providing the
financial support I wanted for Ava. It’s not that she asked for
anything, but I wanted to be able to give her whatever she desired.
I’d do anything for her including working my ass off just so she
could have all of life’s opportunities.

Rusk promised
a great career in visual merchandising and an amazing paycheck with
fabulous benefits. Even though my probationary salary was barely
above minimum wage, I was fueled by their beautiful promises. I
quit Nordstrom and jumped at the chance. I really thought
everything would change.

And it did.
For the worst. Now…now I’m hurrying past the people on Sutter
Street on the verge of a panic attack. Every person’s face is a
blank blur and my vision occasionally clouds over as tears swarm my
eyes, hot and potent. They never fall, though. That has to mean
something. That I’m a trooper. That I will get past this.

I will find
another job. I will find another chance.

Sometimes I
feel life is just one episode after another of trying to find
another way. I wonder what happens when you discover there is no
other way this time.

I make my way
down Leavenworth as the streets become a little less clean and the
people a little less friendly. Or too friendly, depending on how
you look at it. The same man with his toothless smile asks me for
change outside a liquor store, but today I don’t spare him a cent.
I just keep my head down and brush through the riff raff of the
neighborhood, a place I’ve resented ever since it became my only
option in this high-priced city until I’m unlocking the door into
the lobby of the apartment building.

Pausing, I
stare at the door just as I’m about to close it behind me. The door
is glass and there are long vertical bars on the windows,
indicative of the neighborhood. I remember when Phil moved out and
I lost my job at the online retailer, how I could no longer afford
to live in Noe Valley, a gorgeous neighborhood next to the Castro.
That apartment was everything to me but there was no way I could
afford to live there on my own while supporting Ava. The two of us
bounced from apartment to apartment, the standards of living
slipping each time, until I found myself staring up at the bruised
façade of this building, both hoping I could get an apartment and
promising myself I’d move us out of there the first chance I
got.

It looked like
that chance wasn’t going to happen for quite some time.

I sigh, my
heart a stone in my chest, and make my way up to the second floor.
My mom usually babysits during the day on Thursdays and Fridays and
I pay Lisa, my usual sitter, to watch Ava the rest of the time.
I’ve been trying to get her into some affordable daycare but that
shit is hard to come by in the city. The waiting lists are epic and
you really have to be wary of where you put your kid. Before I had
Ava, I had no idea how difficult it could be to keep your child
secure and safe. I thought daycare and babysitters and education
and healthcare would be easy, maybe because I had it easy growing
up (or maybe as a child, you just don’t pay attention to those
things). But now I know better.

No one is
looking out for you or your child but you.

I slip my keys
in the door and quietly open it just in case Ava is down for a nap.
The apartment is a one-bedroom but only about 550 square feet. I
made it as beautiful as possible, though, and in my opinion it
looks just as good as my fancier place in Noe Valley did. To be
honest, it’s pretty much an Anthropologie showroom. I couldn’t
afford to shop there anymore so I held onto my old stuff like it
was gold, gluing back coffee cups if the handles fell off or sewing
curtains back together if Ava tugged on them too hard (which has
happened more than once).

Ava and Lisa
are playing with dolls on the shag carpet and the moment I step in,
Ava smiles that big, gorgeous bright smile of hers and gets up,
running over to me. She wraps her arms around my leg and before I
can even shut the door behind me, I crouch down to her level and
envelope her in a giant hug. Just being around my daughter elevates
my mood and increases my heart rate. It makes things both hard and
easy at the same time, something I have a hard time figuring out
myself. I think sometimes when you love something too much, you’re
that much more aware of how much you have to lose. Holding my
little girl in my arms brings me peace but makes me realize that
I’m going to have to do everything in my power to make sure she’s
okay in the end.

When I pull
away, Ava looks at my face with open curiosity. “Mommy, why are you
crying?”

I hadn’t even
noticed. I quickly wipe my tears on my shoulders and give her a
shaky smile. “I’m fine, angel,” I tell her.

Lisa is
standing up, wiping her hands on her jeans. I get to my own feet,
close the door behind me and put my hand on Ava’s ash-blonde head.
Normally my hair is long and dark brown, many shades darker than
Ava’s, but Steph recently chopped it off to shoulder-length and put
lots of highlights in it. I tell her when she’s done with running
her own business she should become a hairdresser instead.

“Everything
okay?” Lisa asks, peering at me through her glasses. Tall,
reed-thin and sporting an ever-present ponytail, Lisa’s a
whip-smart student who seems wise beyond her age, sometimes more
mature than me. She’s been looking after Ava for two years now,
whenever she can fit it into her schedule. I don’t want to let her
go and I have no idea how I’m going to even broach the subject, but
the fact is I don’t see how I can possibly afford her while I’m out
of work.

Shit, if I
ended it a bit better there’s a chance I could have at least worked
the last week and gotten more money. I doubt I can even put Rusk on
my résumé now after the way I yelled at Ross. No one wants to hire
a crazy person.

I give Lisa a
small shake of my head and tell Ava to go into our shared bedroom
and put her doll to bed. She runs off and I collapse onto the couch
with a hard exhale.

“What is it?”
Lisa asks, sitting on the arm of the couch.

I chew on my
lip for a moment, avoiding her gaze. “I got fired today.”

She breathes
in sharply. “What, are you serious? Why?”

I shrug. “They
told me a whole bunch of bullshit about closing down some of their
stores, but they weren’t the stores I worked at anyway. I think
they just wanted cheap labor.”

“Dude, that
sucks,” she says. “What are you going to do?”

I eye her
apologetically. “Look for another job. But until I find one, I’m
afraid I can’t afford to pay you anymore. Money is going to be
really tight around here.”

Her face
scrunches up for a moment but it quickly becomes sympathetic. I
forget that she may have depended on me the same way I depended on
her. “I understand. And I’m sure you’ll find something really
fast.”

“I hope so,” I
tell her. “I kind of have to.”

She gives my
shoulder a light pat. “Well, I better get going. I guess you don’t
want me to sit tomorrow night?”

I give her a
quizzical look and then quickly remember. “Shit,” I swear loudly
while hoping Ava doesn’t hear me. Linden’s birthday is tomorrow
night and he’s celebrating it on a Tuesday instead of the weekend
like any normal human being. I eye Lisa. “No, I guess not. It’s
best I stay home.”

She nods
and picks up her purse from the counter. For a moment she looks
like
she’s
going to
cry.

“I’ll text you
as soon as I’ve got something lined up,” I tell her and she gives
me a quick smile before she walks out the door and closes it behind
her.

The apartment
is silent for a few moments and I can’t even hear Ava playing in
the bedroom. Then comes her small voice, “Mommy?”

I get up,
feeling extremely old all of a sudden, and shuffle over to the
bedroom. I lean against the doorway and see Ava putting her doll in
her bed. She looks up at me, full-cheeked and proud.

“See, I take
care of her. Like you take care of me.”

It takes all
that I have not to break down in front of her.

***

I spent
last night in a daze, cuddling with Ava on the couch watching her
favorite shows and trying not to think about anything except Dora
the Explorer’s terrible haircut and fashion sense. After Ava went
to bed, I finished half a bottle of wine, flipped through
Vogue
and
Harper’s Bazaar
and avoided texts from Steph and Kayla,
also letting a call from my mom go to voice mail. They didn’t know
anything and I wanted to keep it that way for as long as possible.
My father, before my mom left him and he jetted across the world to
India to do charity work (wish I could have done that after Phil
ditched me) used to tease me about my pride. My mom and I both
suffer from it, never admitting our faults, never asking for
help.

But now in the
cold, grey light of day, as I’m able to sleep in for a bit and
explain to Ava that her mother will be home with her for the next
while, I know I have to face the music. I need to get my life on
track as best I can. If I can do it without anyone’s help or anyone
feeling sorry for me, then all the better.

I spend the
morning going through Craigslist and a bunch of other job sites
before the anxiety becomes too much and I take Ava to a playground
in Little Saigon. After, we get Pho and I keep checking my phone,
hoping to hear back about something already. It’s maddening
applying for jobs. Each time I read a job description that I fall
in love with, I become obsessed with it. All my hopes go riding on
it as if the job will make my life a million times better, as if I
even have a chance. Not being able to put Rusk on my résumé really
put my career a step back, too.

After the
fifth text gets ignored, Steph finally calls me just as I’m putting
Ava down for a nap. I close the door to the room, take in a deep
breath and answer the phone.

“Hey,” I say
brightly. “You never call.”

“Because you
usually answer your texts,” she says quickly. “Where have you
been?”

“Here,” I tell
her.

“Like in
California, or somewhere more specific?”