straight in.
More hoots and hollers ring out and I feel better.
“Thank you, thank you,” I bow in front of them, making them laugh even harder.
“Ms. Emily, can you teach me to play basketball?” Tasha, a fifth grader, runs up to me and asks.
“Of course. First, you need to learn to dribble, okay? You do it like this,” I dribble the ball with my fingertips. Her eyes are wide with excitement. “Try to use your fingers,” I wiggle my fingers at her, “when you dribble. Your turn.”
She takes the ball and slaps at it. I gently grasp her hand within mine and gently push the ball down to the floor. “There you go. You got it.” I move my hand and she is bouncing the ball by herself.
She laughs in delight.
“Keep working on that and the next time I’ll teach you how to shoot, okay?”
“Yes. Thank you, Ms. Emily. See you later,” she says as she rushes off to her friends on the side of the court.
“You’re really good with kids,” Victor says from behind me, a little closer than I’d like, especially being around the kids.
“Thanks,” I say uncomfortably turning around, taking a step backwards.
“You should think about working with the kid’s full time instead of the office with all that paperwork.” He winks at me.
“If I didn’t enjoy my position so much, I would give it thought, but I really like working with everyone in the community, not just the kids,” I answer him truthfully
“I thought I would try. It would be nice to see you more,” he says as he reaches out and places his hand on my arm.
“Um. Thanks. I, um, need to get going, lunch time and all. See you later.” I try not to run from the gym, but my feet want to sprint.
I hope I read that wrong, but I’m sure he was coming on to me. No way, mister. As soon as I’m through the gym doors, my pace slows down. I walk into the main office and head straight to our restroom—I need to freshen up before I go pick up lunch. The sense of doom has left my gut and hunger has taken its place. I think I’ll ask the ladies if they want me to pick up their lunch too.
After picking up Chinese for everyone from the restaurant fifteen minutes away, I’m able to sit down and eat before my one thirty appointment arrives. The mail arrived while I was gone and I sort through it in between bites of my sesame chicken.
When I reach the bottom of the pile of the mail, there’s a letter I’ve been waiting for, or check I should say. A local masonic lodge donates to us yearly and their grant feeds fifty families a month. I take a few more bites of chicken before I push the container off to the side.
I rip the end off the envelope and pull out the inside, and I open the tri-folded sheet of paper and there isn’t a check inside. I read the letter included. “No no no. This can’t be happening,” I say out loud.
I knew I shouldn’t have planned to receive the grant, but it was a done deal or at least I thought it was. Even though I have CUGC’s grant, without the additional grant, I won’t be able to help as many families. There has to be a solution.
I drum my fingers on my desk and that’s when I my eyes catch a glimpse of a business card. Patrick. I was supposed to call his assistant to schedule a meeting to discuss the veteran’s project, but it completely escaped my mind until now.
I pick up the card and run my fingers along the numbers; would he be able to help me? Or am I chasing the impossible? I guess there’s only one way to find out.
T his day can go to hell. If one more thing happens, I’m going to punch something. The projected numbers are fucked up, again. Someone is going to lose their job, beginning with Neil. Kristin told me she heard rumors he’s looking for a new position elsewhere, but she couldn’t confirm if they were true or not. I guess I could help him out by firing him. One more strike and he won’t have to worry about having a job here.
I quickly send an email to Kane, letting him know about the
More hoots and hollers ring out and I feel better.
“Thank you, thank you,” I bow in front of them, making them laugh even harder.
“Ms. Emily, can you teach me to play basketball?” Tasha, a fifth grader, runs up to me and asks.
“Of course. First, you need to learn to dribble, okay? You do it like this,” I dribble the ball with my fingertips. Her eyes are wide with excitement. “Try to use your fingers,” I wiggle my fingers at her, “when you dribble. Your turn.”
She takes the ball and slaps at it. I gently grasp her hand within mine and gently push the ball down to the floor. “There you go. You got it.” I move my hand and she is bouncing the ball by herself.
She laughs in delight.
“Keep working on that and the next time I’ll teach you how to shoot, okay?”
“Yes. Thank you, Ms. Emily. See you later,” she says as she rushes off to her friends on the side of the court.
“You’re really good with kids,” Victor says from behind me, a little closer than I’d like, especially being around the kids.
“Thanks,” I say uncomfortably turning around, taking a step backwards.
“You should think about working with the kid’s full time instead of the office with all that paperwork.” He winks at me.
“If I didn’t enjoy my position so much, I would give it thought, but I really like working with everyone in the community, not just the kids,” I answer him truthfully
“I thought I would try. It would be nice to see you more,” he says as he reaches out and places his hand on my arm.
“Um. Thanks. I, um, need to get going, lunch time and all. See you later.” I try not to run from the gym, but my feet want to sprint.
I hope I read that wrong, but I’m sure he was coming on to me. No way, mister. As soon as I’m through the gym doors, my pace slows down. I walk into the main office and head straight to our restroom—I need to freshen up before I go pick up lunch. The sense of doom has left my gut and hunger has taken its place. I think I’ll ask the ladies if they want me to pick up their lunch too.
After picking up Chinese for everyone from the restaurant fifteen minutes away, I’m able to sit down and eat before my one thirty appointment arrives. The mail arrived while I was gone and I sort through it in between bites of my sesame chicken.
When I reach the bottom of the pile of the mail, there’s a letter I’ve been waiting for, or check I should say. A local masonic lodge donates to us yearly and their grant feeds fifty families a month. I take a few more bites of chicken before I push the container off to the side.
I rip the end off the envelope and pull out the inside, and I open the tri-folded sheet of paper and there isn’t a check inside. I read the letter included. “No no no. This can’t be happening,” I say out loud.
I knew I shouldn’t have planned to receive the grant, but it was a done deal or at least I thought it was. Even though I have CUGC’s grant, without the additional grant, I won’t be able to help as many families. There has to be a solution.
I drum my fingers on my desk and that’s when I my eyes catch a glimpse of a business card. Patrick. I was supposed to call his assistant to schedule a meeting to discuss the veteran’s project, but it completely escaped my mind until now.
I pick up the card and run my fingers along the numbers; would he be able to help me? Or am I chasing the impossible? I guess there’s only one way to find out.
T his day can go to hell. If one more thing happens, I’m going to punch something. The projected numbers are fucked up, again. Someone is going to lose their job, beginning with Neil. Kristin told me she heard rumors he’s looking for a new position elsewhere, but she couldn’t confirm if they were true or not. I guess I could help him out by firing him. One more strike and he won’t have to worry about having a job here.
I quickly send an email to Kane, letting him know about the
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