High Expectations

Why is it that on the days we need everything to run smoothly nothing seems to go quite right, or more accurately, everything goes every which way but right. It is 7am and my 2-year-old son is pulling on my eyelashes, trying to open my eyes saying “Mommy, Mommy breakfast please.”

Ugh. No shower today, I must have slept through my alarm. Standing up I immediately realize I have a massive pounding headache, probably in thanks to the one glass too many of wine last night. (Meaning I had literally only one glass of wine.) Whoever said 30 is the new 20 was lying.

I quickly throw on the dress pants and blouse I laid out last night and spray dry shampoo in my hair. I dress Parker, pick him up and head to the kitchen to make him a nutritious breakfast of... I open the pantry and realize I had forgotten to go to the grocery store. I glance at the clock, 7:30am. We should have enough time to stop at Dunkin’ before I drop him off with my sister.

I did not account for the early morning commute traffic. I take a deep breath, “Mommy, Mommy another donut!” I glance back to see how he has managed to eat his whole donut so fast, then quickly I look forward again to see that the car in front of me has slammed on their brakes! Instinctively, I slam on mine as well causing my coffee to splatter onto my blouse.

The glow of the clock glares at me as I pull out of my sisters’ driveway, 8:45. I am going to be so late.

As I quickly walk up the stairs, I try to pull myself together. I push open the big glass doors and walk to the reception desk.

“How may I help you today?” The receptionist pops her chewing gum, as she brings her eyes up to meet mine.

“Hi, yes, my name is Anna Thomas, I have a 9:00 interview with Mr. Chairsmith.” I hold my breath as I see her look at the little clock on her desk.

The receptionist stands up “I will be right back, let me see if he still has time to fit you in.” Minutes later she returns with a smirk on her face. “I am terribly sorry, but Mr. Chairsmith has asked me to inform you that there will be no need for an interview. He has a zero tolerance for anyone being late.” She sits back down and continues with whatever she had been doing before my arrival.

“No, no please you don’t understand. I need this job!” I beg.

Clearly annoyed now she replies, “Well if you “really” needed this job, you wouldn’t have been late.” She notices my shirt now “You could have also dressed,” she pauses then points. “You know, better for the occasion.”

I feel tears beginning to well in my eyes, but then I notice the office door still ajar from where the receptionist had just left. I grab a tissue to dab my eyes, then pretend to walk back towards the front door. As soon as the receptionist lowered her head again, I quickly walk over to the office and make sure the door closes behind me.

A bald, round man sits at the massive executive desk in the center of the room. “Mr. Chairsmith?” I ask as I stride towards him. Startled, he looks at me with confusion. “Hello, I am Anna Thomas. I am your 9:00 interview. Yes, I was 5 minutes late but please hear me out.”

“Oh, yes.” He eases back into his chair. “As I told Shirley, I have a zero tolerance for tardiness. So, good day.”

“Sir, if I may. The environmental crisis that is going on right now has completely cut out my husband’s career and his entire industry! He has temporarily found a job replacement, but the income is only a quarter of what we made before. I am a stay-at-home mom of a young toddler but I need to also bring in an income right now, so we do not lose our home! There are not many job opportunities one can do from home without a specific degree. Please give me a chance, you won’t be disappointed!” My tears are threatening to come back as I plead him.

He stands up his face red. “I am not a charity case worker. When I say I will not hire you, that means that I will NOT be hiring you. Now remove your hands from my desk and leave!” I let go of the desk. I hadn’t realized I had been gripping for stability. He opens his office door and ushers me out. “And word of advice, don’t be late at your next interview!” Then slams his door shut.

I drove aimlessly, with my tears finally flowing freely. I then find myself pulling into a Barnes & Noble parking lot. I park and go inside. This store has always been a comfort for me. Something about the smell of coffee and new books is so warming. I walk to the café and order a latte, then sit down at a table. I have no idea what I am going to do next. Out of habit I pull out my phone and start mindlessly scrolling Instagram.

“Double shot, Vanilla latte for Anna!” I set my phone on the counter as I grab a coffee sleeve. “Are you entering the contest challenge too? One of the girls that work here entered. I think there might be only a day or two left, so you better hurry.

I look at the barista so confused. What was she talking about? Contest? “I’m sorry, but I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”

She points at my phone, and I realize that my screen light was still on. I look and see an ad on Instagram about a writers’ challenge. The barista continues, “I think grand prize is like 20k, or something.”

“Seriously!?” I grab my phone and click on it. Writing has been a passion of my since, well for as long as I could remember, and we could really, really use the money. I go over to the notebook section of the store and find my favorite little black notebook. I pick it up and breathe in the fresh new leather smell. Inspiration beginning to flood my mind.

I pay for my new little black book and a pencil and head back over to the café. The barista walks over to me. “You forgot your latte.” She sits the cup down. “Good luck!”

That night I couldn’t wait for my husband to come home. “Liam!” I kiss him on the lips, excitement coursing through me.

“Did you get the job?” He asks beaming at my excitement. I immediately freeze, I had completely forgotten about my horrible morning.

“No, I didn’t. I’m so sorry.” I lower my eyes, I really did not want to relive my morning.

Liam must have sensed it and being the great and wonderful husband that he was said “There will always be another opportunity, we won’t get discouraged now. Please tell me why you were so happy when I came home.”

I quickly summarized my afternoon at the bookstore. “Can you believe we could win $20,000! I have already submitted my story, and I am very confident.”

“Honey, I am sure you wrote a great story, and I know we both would really love it if you won but you have to be realistic. There will be many entries and for most of them, this probably isn’t their first piece released to the public. I love you no matter what the outcome is, and I am so proud of you for finally writing and submitting a story! It’s definitely a step towards your dream of being a New York bestselling author!” He pulls me close to him.

“Why do you always have to be so logical! I like living on my cloud of dreams.”

He smiles, “One of us has to be the realist.” At that moment Parker comes running in and Liam swoops him up. “So, when do we find out who the winner will be?”

“Next Monday!”

A week later I sit at my laptop going back and forth between refreshing my emails and looking at the website for updates. Finally, I see it. “Who in the world is Samantha Ravenwood!” I yell. My heart sank. I just thought and hoped that good karma was finally coming our way.

I feel Liam come up behind me and kiss the top of my head. “It’s ok sweety. You did something you love and you had fun. That is what matters. We will figure out the money later. This environmental crisis won’t last forever.” Ugh there he was being all logical again when I just wanted to steam for a minute. He is right though; we will figure it out, we always do.

I hear the doorbell ring. I close my laptop and head to the door.

“Hello, I have certified letter for a Mrs. Thomas?”

“I am her.” I didn’t think we were expecting any special mail. I sign for the letter and take it into the kitchen.

“What is it?” Asked Liam.

‘I’m not sure.” I open the envelope and read the letter.

Dear Mrs. Anna Thomas. I am sorry to inform you that your Great Aunt Mildred has passed. In accordance with her last will in testament she has asked that you be given a sum of her accounts. I have enclosed the check with your portion in the total of Twenty Thousand Dollars and no cents. Again, I am sorry for your loss, I hope this check of $20,000 will help give you peace.

Sincerely,

Joe Richmond

This has been a short story titled “High Expectations” by Portia Louise Sieg