out.
“Sorry, tough love,” she says softer. “Look, I have to go. I packed all your stuff. So you don’t have to worry about it,” Vanessa tells me, talking over the large crowd in the lobby.
“Thanks,” I tell her, closing my eyes to calm down.
“You’re doing fine. Call me later, k?”
“Okay. Thanks, Nessa.”
“Sure. Bye!” she says enthusiastically, hanging up.
I open my eyes. “I can do this. I got this,” I tell myself like it’s a mantra in my rearview mirror. I fasten my seatbelt, when my phone rings. I don’t recognize the number but answer, hoping it’s not a bill collector.
“Hello?” I ask cautiously. Answering phones lately hasn’t exactly brought me luck.
“Hello, I’m calling for Cristal Escobedo. This is Mr. Rydel from Grocer’s calling about the application you submitted. Are you free to come in for an interview?”
“Of course! Yes, thank you for calling me.”
“Wonderful. I know this is short notice, but are you available to come now?” he asks gingerly.
“Yes, I can,” I answer, looking down at my outfit. It’s not the best thing to wear to an interview, but it looks conservative and professional.
“Okay, good. Do you know where we are located?” he asks.
“I do.”
“Good, good. So I will see you soon?”
“Yes. Thank you, sir. See you soon.” I hang up the phone, squealing with delight that something good is finally happening.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
I enter Grocer’s into my GPS and drive to the supermarket. Nervous, I pat down the wrinkles forming on my dress and pull back my hair into a tight bun. Walking into the store, I see the flies buzzing around the fruit stands. The line is long for a raspa . If everything goes well maybe I’ll treat myself with one. I smile, hopeful everything will finally go well for us.
The interview goes absolutely perfect. Mr. Rydel provides me with two uniform shirts to wear and tells me I need to get some black pants, which won’t be hard considering the high school wardrobe filling my closet. He was very flexible with my work schedule, allowing me to work while the boys are in school.
I walk out feeling relieved. Sitting in my car outside, I just know that my parents are looking down on me, gracing me with a little good luck.
My phone buzzes and I pull it from my pocket. Charlie sent me a text: I’m in town. See U Soon! :].
I reply: I have great news! See you soon :).
I still have a bunch of time before I have to pick them up, so I decide to pay my parents a visit before heading home. I pick up a nice flower arrangement across the street from the cemetery. I haven’t been here since the funeral. I drive into the archway, slowly driving through the winding pathway to their burial plot.
I park my car along the edge of the tree line. Grabbing the flowers, I walk over to them, sitting down in front of their fresh graves. The plaque I ordered hasn’t been placed on their plot yet, so the cardboard name boards are still on a small piece of wood standing up in the ground.
The wood looks like a toothpick. It’s too small to hold such important names as my parents. How can they just leave these sticks here? Can’t they afford more suitable name holders? I mean they charge more than enough for it.
I start to feel the tears well up. Reaching out to touch their names, I see they are fading to yellow from being in the sun all day.
I lay down the flowers between them, crossing my legs. “So I got a job today,” my voice croaks out, sounding weaker than I meant it to. I clear my throat and try again. “This is new to me, the whole talking to you thing. I uh…I feel like you both are looking
“Sorry, tough love,” she says softer. “Look, I have to go. I packed all your stuff. So you don’t have to worry about it,” Vanessa tells me, talking over the large crowd in the lobby.
“Thanks,” I tell her, closing my eyes to calm down.
“You’re doing fine. Call me later, k?”
“Okay. Thanks, Nessa.”
“Sure. Bye!” she says enthusiastically, hanging up.
I open my eyes. “I can do this. I got this,” I tell myself like it’s a mantra in my rearview mirror. I fasten my seatbelt, when my phone rings. I don’t recognize the number but answer, hoping it’s not a bill collector.
“Hello?” I ask cautiously. Answering phones lately hasn’t exactly brought me luck.
“Hello, I’m calling for Cristal Escobedo. This is Mr. Rydel from Grocer’s calling about the application you submitted. Are you free to come in for an interview?”
“Of course! Yes, thank you for calling me.”
“Wonderful. I know this is short notice, but are you available to come now?” he asks gingerly.
“Yes, I can,” I answer, looking down at my outfit. It’s not the best thing to wear to an interview, but it looks conservative and professional.
“Okay, good. Do you know where we are located?” he asks.
“I do.”
“Good, good. So I will see you soon?”
“Yes. Thank you, sir. See you soon.” I hang up the phone, squealing with delight that something good is finally happening.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
I enter Grocer’s into my GPS and drive to the supermarket. Nervous, I pat down the wrinkles forming on my dress and pull back my hair into a tight bun. Walking into the store, I see the flies buzzing around the fruit stands. The line is long for a raspa . If everything goes well maybe I’ll treat myself with one. I smile, hopeful everything will finally go well for us.
The interview goes absolutely perfect. Mr. Rydel provides me with two uniform shirts to wear and tells me I need to get some black pants, which won’t be hard considering the high school wardrobe filling my closet. He was very flexible with my work schedule, allowing me to work while the boys are in school.
I walk out feeling relieved. Sitting in my car outside, I just know that my parents are looking down on me, gracing me with a little good luck.
My phone buzzes and I pull it from my pocket. Charlie sent me a text: I’m in town. See U Soon! :].
I reply: I have great news! See you soon :).
I still have a bunch of time before I have to pick them up, so I decide to pay my parents a visit before heading home. I pick up a nice flower arrangement across the street from the cemetery. I haven’t been here since the funeral. I drive into the archway, slowly driving through the winding pathway to their burial plot.
I park my car along the edge of the tree line. Grabbing the flowers, I walk over to them, sitting down in front of their fresh graves. The plaque I ordered hasn’t been placed on their plot yet, so the cardboard name boards are still on a small piece of wood standing up in the ground.
The wood looks like a toothpick. It’s too small to hold such important names as my parents. How can they just leave these sticks here? Can’t they afford more suitable name holders? I mean they charge more than enough for it.
I start to feel the tears well up. Reaching out to touch their names, I see they are fading to yellow from being in the sun all day.
I lay down the flowers between them, crossing my legs. “So I got a job today,” my voice croaks out, sounding weaker than I meant it to. I clear my throat and try again. “This is new to me, the whole talking to you thing. I uh…I feel like you both are looking
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