iced lattes.
Kids were back in school, the town was basking in an Indian summer, and she was unemployed.
She’d never been in such a position. She’d earned her two-year degree in accounting and had gone straight to work, first for
a landscaping company and then for the bank. And to be fired—well, she couldn’t very well say that when people started asking.
She’d have to say she’d left on her own, which was true in a way. She’d stood up for her principles and chosen to leave rather
than cave in and stay.
The executives used the phrase
spin doctor
, and she’d always wondered what it meant. Now she knew. She was doing it herself—putting the least embarrassing spin on what
had happened. But the rent still had to be paid and you couldn’t eat off your principles, so since she couldn’t leave town,
she was going to have to find another job.
She’d been stupid to take the bank for granted. Instead of being practical and buying bonds or something, she’d spent her
money on great clothes and designer shoes, although every item that she purchased was black. Even if no one else in Hamilton
Falls could tell an Ann Taylor from a Raggedy Ann, she knew. She supposed it sprang from the fact that her mom slopped around
at home in T-shirts and jeans, clothes an Elect woman wasn’t supposed to wear. Her mom gave way to earthly desires in private,
but Claire upheld the Elect standard in public with style, feeling somehow that she needed to even up the accounts.
What if you can’t get work here?
Of course she could. There was always Quill and Quinn, where there was still an open position, but that was a step backward
career-wise. The only other options were to join the flood of people interviewing for jobs at the discount store, or get married.
Since most of her dreams since graduating from high school had involved getting out of Hamilton Falls and starting a real
life, Phinehas’s decree that she had to stay had nearly crushed her spirit. But a person just didn’t tell a Shepherd to mind
his own business and then call a moving van. No, an Elect woman took “bend and blend” seriously. She bent her will to those
in authority over her, and did it with a smile full of grace.
Even if in private she pulled a pillow over her head and cried long into the night.
She comforted herself with the thought that if she left town, she’d be even more alone than she was already, without the security
blanket of familiar streets that held friends and acquaintances on every block. If she moved to Spokane or Seattle she’d find
Elect, but it would take months to get to know people and in the meantime, there she’d be in an empty apartment with a phone
that didn’t ring.
At least here people cared enough to call. And since she was going to stay, even if the frustrated longing inside her was
practically eating her alive, she’d simply have to find a different job.
Soon. Right after she’d had an iced latte.
She climbed out of the car and walked back down the block to the coffee bar, where she got the latte and shook chocolate sprinkles
on the top—strictly for medicinal purposes. Out on the sidewalk, she took a long sip of the creamy liquid and let it fill
up her senses as the sun warmed her face.
Roll up the scrolls of time
Eternity is mine.
I’m gonna do just fine
Safe with the Lord.
Five Wise sang their hearts out in a cross between swing and pop—two genres of music Claire was becoming more familiar with
the more she listened to KGHM.
Say what you want to me,
I know where I’m gonna be.
You don’t control me.
I’m with the Lord.
If only she could say that herself. With a sigh and another sip of coffee, Claire leaned against the warm bricks of the building
and realized the music was being piped over speakers onto the street.
Of course. The radio station was next door to the coffee bar.
“That was Five Wise, a quintet of talented ladies singing ‘Safe with the
Kids were back in school, the town was basking in an Indian summer, and she was unemployed.
She’d never been in such a position. She’d earned her two-year degree in accounting and had gone straight to work, first for
a landscaping company and then for the bank. And to be fired—well, she couldn’t very well say that when people started asking.
She’d have to say she’d left on her own, which was true in a way. She’d stood up for her principles and chosen to leave rather
than cave in and stay.
The executives used the phrase
spin doctor
, and she’d always wondered what it meant. Now she knew. She was doing it herself—putting the least embarrassing spin on what
had happened. But the rent still had to be paid and you couldn’t eat off your principles, so since she couldn’t leave town,
she was going to have to find another job.
She’d been stupid to take the bank for granted. Instead of being practical and buying bonds or something, she’d spent her
money on great clothes and designer shoes, although every item that she purchased was black. Even if no one else in Hamilton
Falls could tell an Ann Taylor from a Raggedy Ann, she knew. She supposed it sprang from the fact that her mom slopped around
at home in T-shirts and jeans, clothes an Elect woman wasn’t supposed to wear. Her mom gave way to earthly desires in private,
but Claire upheld the Elect standard in public with style, feeling somehow that she needed to even up the accounts.
What if you can’t get work here?
Of course she could. There was always Quill and Quinn, where there was still an open position, but that was a step backward
career-wise. The only other options were to join the flood of people interviewing for jobs at the discount store, or get married.
Since most of her dreams since graduating from high school had involved getting out of Hamilton Falls and starting a real
life, Phinehas’s decree that she had to stay had nearly crushed her spirit. But a person just didn’t tell a Shepherd to mind
his own business and then call a moving van. No, an Elect woman took “bend and blend” seriously. She bent her will to those
in authority over her, and did it with a smile full of grace.
Even if in private she pulled a pillow over her head and cried long into the night.
She comforted herself with the thought that if she left town, she’d be even more alone than she was already, without the security
blanket of familiar streets that held friends and acquaintances on every block. If she moved to Spokane or Seattle she’d find
Elect, but it would take months to get to know people and in the meantime, there she’d be in an empty apartment with a phone
that didn’t ring.
At least here people cared enough to call. And since she was going to stay, even if the frustrated longing inside her was
practically eating her alive, she’d simply have to find a different job.
Soon. Right after she’d had an iced latte.
She climbed out of the car and walked back down the block to the coffee bar, where she got the latte and shook chocolate sprinkles
on the top—strictly for medicinal purposes. Out on the sidewalk, she took a long sip of the creamy liquid and let it fill
up her senses as the sun warmed her face.
Roll up the scrolls of time
Eternity is mine.
I’m gonna do just fine
Safe with the Lord.
Five Wise sang their hearts out in a cross between swing and pop—two genres of music Claire was becoming more familiar with
the more she listened to KGHM.
Say what you want to me,
I know where I’m gonna be.
You don’t control me.
I’m with the Lord.
If only she could say that herself. With a sigh and another sip of coffee, Claire leaned against the warm bricks of the building
and realized the music was being piped over speakers onto the street.
Of course. The radio station was next door to the coffee bar.
“That was Five Wise, a quintet of talented ladies singing ‘Safe with the
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