Nothing Personal

The clock above the soda case ticked off another minute as the woman on the other side of the counter fished the depths of her purse. Evangeline glanced through the front windows to the gas pumps. If this woman found her wallet and paid soon, and no one else came into the store, she’d have time.

“Here we go. Thank you for being so patient.” The woman separated money to pay for her gas and tucked the rest back in her wallet. "Can I have a $2 scratch off ticket, please?"

"Which one?"

"Any one you like. If it's a winner, I'll split it with you." Her eyes crinkled at the corners as she smiled. "Maybe it'll be our lucky day.”

Evangeline added $2 to the gas total, handed the woman her change, and tore off one lottery ticket.

She scratched the ticket, scattering silver dust across the counter. “Nope, not our day.” She dropped the ticket in the trash on her way out.

Evangeline took a step towards the supply closet. The brown leather wallet on the counter caught her eye. She grabbed it and ran for the door. “Wait!”

The woman turned back, curiosity turning to relief. “I guess it’s my lucky day after all.” She smiled at Evangeline, “Thanks!”

Evangeline rushed back inside. “Kaylee! Are you ready?” She met her daughter at the door of the supply closet.

“All set.” Kaylee zipped her backpack.

Evangeline gave the storage closet a quick look, assured herself there was nothing to indicate Kaylee had slept there. The chime on the door dinged; someone had come into the store. She whispered urgently, “Go straight to McDonald’s and wait at the back table. And don’t talk to anyone.”

“I know.”

They stepped from the closet to see Larry, clipboard in his hand and a disapproving look on his face. “Evangeline, I made it very clear. This is not a daycare.”

“She’s nine, she doesn’t need daycare. And she wouldn’t be here if you’d been on time.” She pointed at the clock, which she knew was ten minutes fast, and told the lie she’d invented this time. “Her dad dropped her off five minutes ago.”

Larry jerked his thumb towards the door, looking at Kaylee. “Out. Now.” To Evangeline, he said, “Don’t be late tonight.”

Relieved that he hadn’t fired her— this time— she grabbed the threadbare jacket she’d found in the free box at the soup kitchen, slung her backpack over her shoulder, and headed for the door. As it closed behind her, she heard Larry yell, “And this isn’t a daycare!”

Outside, she pulled her coat on, then started walking. “It’s been a while since you stayed over Great Grandma’s.”

Kaylee glanced up, fear in her dark eyes. “Mama—”

She smiled with as much confidence as she could muster. “The rules for her building say it’s okay, as long as it’s only once in a while. So tonight you can sleep at Great Grandma’s, and tomorrow night we’ll get a hotel.”

Getting a room meant dipping into her apartment fund, which she hated to do. She needed to save every penny until her name finally made it to the top of the housing assistance waiting list. But if Larry caught Kaylee there again and Evangeline lost her job—

Kaylee broke into her thoughts. “I can stay at Emily’s. Her mom says Friday nights are okay.”

That was more dangerous than sleeping in the supply closet. There was no telling what would happen if Emily’s mom figured out they were homeless, who she’d tell and what they’d do. “We’ll see.”

By the time they got to Kaylee’s school their cheeks were red and their noses were cold. “I’ll see you at Great Grandma’s after school.” Evangeline kissed Kaylee on the top of her head.

She waited until her daughter was in the building before continuing towards Sunrise Senior Housing. Carl was at the security desk. She greeted him as she signed the guestbook, “Morning, Carl.”

He grunted and noted the time next to her signature.

Her grandma was watching game shows when Evangeline walked in. “Gram, can I borrow your dress coat, please?”

Her dark eyes brightened. “You have an interview?”

“Don’t get excited. It’s for a ‘community outreach director’.” She dropped her backpack in the corner. “The woman at the job center set the interview up, even though I told her I’m not qualified.”

“What makes you think you’re not qualified?”

She ignored the question. “I didn’t mention it to Kaylee, so please don’t say anything.”

“I won’t.” She rolled her wheelchair to the closet, used a pole with a hook on the end to pull down a clothes hanger. “I washed your clothes, and fixed the missing button on your shirt.”

Unexpected tears sprang to Evangeline’s eyes. She leaned down and kissed her grandmother’s leathery cheek as she took the shirt. “Thank you.”

Carl wasn’t at the desk when she went back through the foyer. She was glad of that. He paid close attention to her ever since she and Kaylee had gotten caught staying overnight for too many nights in a row.

If she actually did get this job, she’d be able to afford an apartment much sooner. Maybe even a handicap accessible one, so the three of them could be together again.

It was a short walk to downtown, but stepping into the warmth of the office building was still a relief. She checked in with security guard, who gave her a visitors’ badge and directed her to the sixth floor. She paused to read the sign on the door, “Foundation for Women’s Futures.” Evangeline wasn’t in a position to be choosy, but if she had been this sounded like the kind of place she’d want to work.

The receptionist led her to a conference room. While she waited, she set her resume on the long, wooden table and smoothed her hands over the white page. Ruthie, from the job center, had helped her fill in her spotty work history as much as possible. She’d pointed out that, in addition to listing classes she’d taken, Evangeline could include the experience she’d gotten through the work study program in college, that she’d volunteered to tutor other students, and that she’d spent a summer working with Habitat For Humanity.

Her stomach began to churn. She looked around the room, at the arrangement of flowers in a crystal vase on a side table, inspirational posters with pictures of people skiing and white-water rafting, hardcover books filling an entire wall.

She didn’t belong here. If she was quick, she could leave before anyone noticed. She stood just as the door opened.

The woman from the gas station stepped in, her eyes widening with surprise. “Evangeline? Isn’t this a coincidence. It’s nice to formally meet you. I’m Joanna.”

This was worse than having an iffy resume. Heat filled her face. “I guess I don’t have to tell you about my current work situation.”

Joanna smiled kindly and settled into a chair. “We all start somewhere. I’m more interested in what your plans are for the future. Sit, please, and tell me what you’re looking for.”

The simple answer was security. “I…” Words refused to form.

Joanna folded her hands on the table. “Evangeline, did Ruthie explain to you what we do here? Why she thought you’d be a good fit?”

“All she said was you’re looking for a community outreach director.” There was no point in hiding the truth. “I’m really not qualified for that.”

“We’re not necessarily looking for someone with traditional qualifications. There was one thing on your resume that really caught my eye. You went to Central High. Very few students from that district go to college.” Joanna leaned forward a bit. “Do you know why?”

Evangeline knew, too well. “They’re too busy trying to get through today to worry about the future. And no one they know has ever gone to college. So even if they have the grades, and they understand that they’d qualify for massive financial aid packages, that they could go to a community college for free, there isn’t anyone who can explain to them how to apply.”

“What about their guidance counselors?”

Evangeline stifled a laugh. “They’re contending with kids who are homeless, struggling with mental health issues, dealing drugs to pay for food, raising their younger siblings because their parents are never home, or they’re parents themselves. Guidance counselors there have more contacts in the juvenile court system than the local college.”

“How did you manage?”

“I got really lucky.” She smiled slightly, remembering. “I overheard two ladies on the bus talking about how underprivileged kids needed more opportunities. How important college was. I was a teenager and mouthy. I started telling them how impossible it was for someone like me to go to college. One of them handed me her card, told me she could help. It turned out she worked in admissions at Northwest Community. She walked me through everything, from the application and choosing classes to getting financial aid. She called me after I’d graduated high school. Made sure I knew how to buy books and that the college provided free bus passes to make sure students got to class.”

Joanna looked at her for a long moment. “It was luck that put you on the bus with those women. But you recognized the opportunity and took advantage of it, you put in the work. That says more about you than about luck. And that’s what this foundation is about.

“We provide assistance for women without a lot of resources to follow their dreams. That includes logistical and financial backing for start-ups, continuing education to make sure ventures are successful, and a mentor program. I asked you to come in today because you know first-hand the kinds of challenges women struggling to better their lives are facing, and what it takes to help them overcome those challenges.”

Joanna slid a notebook and pen across the table. “I’m going to get coffee. I want you to make a list of the top three things you’d want if you had unlimited resources.”

Alone, Evangeline ran her fingers over the cover of the notebook. Black, with ‘Moleskine’ embossed into the leather cover. She opened it to reveal smooth ivory paper. An invitation to let her imagination roam.

If she had unlimited resources, she could buy a house for her grandma and Kaylee. Buy a car and new clothes. Go back to school.

None of those things were right, though. If she had unlimited resources, she needed bigger dreams. She put pen to paper.

When Joanna came back, she read the list Evangeline had written. “Nothing here is for you, personally.”

She smiled softly. “Unlimited resources should help unlimited numbers of people.”

Joanna folded her hands over the book. “Although I’d love to be able to, I can’t offer you unlimited resources. We do have quite a bit at our disposal, though, and I believe you have the vision and experience to help us make the most of it.”

There was the oddest whoosing sound in Evangeline’s ears. “You’re offering me the job?”

“I am.” She pulled a stack of papers from her briefcase and began sliding them across the table one by one. “This details vacation days and holidays. This explains your medical benefits, this is for your 401K. And this is our salary schedule. Your base salary is here,” she pointed. “There is a bonus and a raise every year. And to start, there’s a signing bonus of $20,000.00.”

Evangeline could barely breathe. Just the yearly salary was more than she could wrap her mind around. And the signing bonus? There was no way this was real. People just didn’t make that much money. Tears obscured her vision as she whispered, “I don’t believe you.”

“You should.” Joanna grinned. “Maybe we didn’t win the lottery this morning, but today is your lucky day.”