Right in Front of Me

I arrived home after work like any other Monday afternoon. Tired and frustrated was the normal mood after work. I grabbed the mail and headed into the house. I entered the house through the garage. I placed my bags down and glimpsed at the pile in my hand. There it was. The information I had been waiting for since the call two weeks ago. This yellowish envelope would determine what I was going to do for the rest of my life and maybe with whom. I was about to open the envelope when the phone rang. “Darn!” I put the manila envelope down and ran into the living room.

The living room was the only room in the house that I truly loved. The room was nothing special but very cozy. This living room held the most memories; mostly good. The furniture we had chosen matched well with both the hardwood floors and the cranberry splash paint on the walls. The large window let just enough light into the room. The ceiling was raised high and allowed us to display art prints without clattering up the walls. The phone was placed neatly in the corner for quick retrieval no matter what room you were coming from.

“Hello” I said a little out of breath from the interruption.

“I need to speak with Miss Stephanie Simmons, please” the woman on the other line said.

“Speaking. May I help you?” I said rolling my eyes thinking this was just another telemarketer looking for me, life insurance or an extended warranty for my vehicle.

“I am Debbie Williams from the University of Miami. I was returning your call from last week.”

My heart beats, beats, skips a beat, and then resumes.

“Yes. How are you?” I say trying to back my excitement.

“I am calling about your inquiry about the open position” the woman answered shorty, keeping it strictly business.

“Yes! I'm sorry. What was your name, again?” I asked so I know who to complain about if this telephone call goes bad.

With a heavy sigh, she repeats, “Debbie Williams, ma'am. Anyway, I am calling to see if you are still interested in the position” she says in a way of asking a question.

Of course, I am! “Yes, Ms. Williams. I am very interested” I wonder if that sounded too eager.

“Can you take some time Wednesday to come in for an interview? There is one opening, 3 p.m.

“YES!” I let out really quick and loud.

I answered so quickly that I think I sounded too desperate, should have waited for a second or two.

“So, do you remember what to bring? The application clearly explained all the requirements. I assume that you are, will be, completely prepared” Debbie said in a melancholy voice.

"Yes, Mrs. Williams. I have all my documents right here on my desk" I lied as I frantically looked around for the folder. Well, it was here the other night before…. I started remembering our disagreement when she snapped me back.

"That's Miss Williams and we will see you Wednesday at 3:00 p.m. Please do not be late. We frown upon such behavior". She said condescendingly.

"Yes, ma'am. Thank you for calling and please have a great evening." I say in a lightsome voice.

"You, too." She says as she hangs up the phone.

I cannot believe they called me. I applied for the position over a month ago. I was beginning to lose the confidence I had when I had first sent over my resume. I was completely qualified for the position and thought I had the job for sure. But no one called me. I waited for two weeks before calling them. I was eager for the position but didn't want to be a nuisance.

"Hello, my name is Miss Simmons. I sent over my resume for the open job position and was wondering if they made a decision yet."

"Yes. No. I mean, I'm not sure if they filled the position. I am just relieving the normal secretary who is on her lunch break. I am just supposed to answer the phones and take messages." The woman said nervously.

"Okay. May I leave a message for her?" I ask the temporary secretary.

"Please hold while I take the other line." She quickly started and the hold music began. When the secretary came back on the line she was clearly flustered. “Where were we?” she asked.

“I would like to leave a message to get a call back for the status of my job application and resume,” I repeated.

“Miss Simmons, is it?”

“Yes.”

I finished giving my information and hang up.

Now, I was walking on cloud nine about my recent phone call. I had almost forgotten what I was doing before the phone rang. Walking into the kitchen, I remembered. That manilla envelope waiting for me, mocking me. I reached down and retrieved the package. I notice my hands trembled as I reached out. Why? Am I afraid of the suspicions I have had all along?

I bent the metal tabs in an open position and peeled the tape off that sealed it secure. I carefully ripped the flap off from the complementary glue. I reach in practically shivering now and pulled out the contents. There they were. The pictures I had dreaded to see but needed to see. That was Mike with someone. I couldn’t make out her face or even the location. I grabbed the phone and started to call, Dave Molten. Dave was the P.I. I had hired last month when my thoughts started to get the best of me. No answer, I left a message for him to call me as soon as he got the message. I needed to get out of there.