Chapter 24
Riley
T oday is the day I grab life by the lady balls. I’m going to ask Mr. Bleeker if I can design out of the store, and if he can hire a part time worker so I can be under much less stress. I know I went out on a limb with my interview with Mason, but that felt very different. Finn set that up for me, and he supported me every step of the way. This is something I’m doing completely on my own. I haven’t even told him about it yet. I don’t know if I’m going to if it goes badly.
What a difference a month makes. Never in a million years would I have thought I would be taking the steps that I have in the past month. I also wouldn’t have thought that just simply living life would change me so irrevocably. I spent so much time burrowed in my hole that I had no idea what the lack of vitamin D was doing to me. Now, being outside, I can feel it in my bones. The oxygen has expanded my lungs and opened my eyes.
I woke up terrified, but I’m gaining more and more confidence as the day goes on. My portfolio is ready and I have a letter of recommendation from Mason, which was really great for him to give me when I haven’t even finished the project yet. That also gives me more confidence, the fact that he’s happy enough with my work so far that he’s willing to put his name on something to help me get this job. Or really start this business within the business.
I finish my work for the day and boot down my computer. Gather my things and head to Mr. Bleeker’s office. I stop in front of his door and pause to do some deep breathing. In, out, in, out. Then I take the deepest breath of all and knock on the door. I hear a muffled, “Come in,” and enter.
“Good afternoon, Miss. Fields. Why don’t you come in and have a seat?”
“Thank you, Mr. Bleeker.” I’m a little stunned at how even my voice is.
“Of course, now why don’t you tell me what you wanted to meet about today?”
I take out my portfolio, set it on his desk, and open it to what I think is my most impressive spread, the lobby of the new apartment building. It’s not actually done in real life, as the building isn’t quite done yet, but I have everything picked out and put into the designing program I taught myself how to use.
“Well, Mr. Bleeker, as you know, I’ve been working on the new apartment building on the other side of town as the interior designer.”
“Yes, how is that going, by the way?”
“It’s going amazing, which is actually why I’m here. For a long time, even before working on this project, I have had the idea that adding a design program to Evergreen Hardware would be beneficial to both the store and the community as a whole.” He leans back in his chair, and I’m not sure if it’s a good thing or a bad thing. Is that his way of listening more intently or checking out? I push the nerves away and continue.
“Right now, when anyone, including larger developers, wants to hire an interior designer, they are stuck going about an hour or so out of town, or Seattle, to find one. I would like to make that a lot easier on people by offering services here in the store. Through my work with Mason, I have connected with a lot of different vendors so that won’t be an issue at all. There will be a lot of new construction going on here and the town over, as well as a lot of renovations that will be happening to the interiors of some of the older buildings, so the business is there.
“I also believe that bringing in new clients on the design side could trickle through the rest of the store. Some developers may be ordering from some of the bigger towns and cities around us as a one-stop shop, but what if we brought that here? We would be that shop.
“I brought my portfolio here, if you would like to look through it and see my work.” I reach into my purse and pull out the letter of recommendation. “I also have this letter of recommendation here from Mason, as well as a list of some new projects that will be breaking ground in the next six to eight months, so there is still time to reach out and get them on board with hiring us, you know, if you like this idea at all… Which, I understand if you don’t. I know this is all kind of out of nowhere. I just ask that you give it some thought.” He’s smiling, so I think that’s a good thing.
He puts his hand up to stop my rambling. “Miss Fields, if I may interject—”
I feel my face heat and brace myself for the rejection that is sure to come. “Yes, sorry.”
He smiles at me warmly, and I’m a little more at ease, but not by much. “I think this is an absolutely brilliant idea. I’m actually a bit ashamed I didn’t think of it myself when you came to me to let me know that you would be designing Mason’s new project. One of the first questions I have is, how are you going to add this to your already overflowing plate?”
My face falls a bit. “Well, you see, I was thinking that you could hire someone part time until we get more contracts under our belt. I could train them while I’m finishing my current project, and I’ll also be making calls to secure a client for when I’m done as well. Then we can kind of transition together—me fully to the design side, and then to full time coverage of my store manager position.”
“Wow, Miss Fields, you really have thought of everything, and I’m quite impressed. Now the only other question I have is, would you like to hire your own replacement?”
“What?!” I squawk, and Mr. Bleeker smiles at me.
“Yes, Miss Fields, I absolutely love this idea, and there’s no one that I would trust more with all of this than you. I have to say, I’m a bit surprised that you actually came and asked me. I’m impressed. You seem to be coming out of your shell more and more, and I am very proud of you.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Ah, call me Jim.”
“Then please call me Riley?”
“Sure thing, Riley. Well, please put an ad in the local paper and in the window that we’re looking to hire, then we will chat about next steps when you’ve hired and trained someone. I’m excited to see what comes of this, Riley.”
“Sounds great, sirrr—Jim.” I catch myself and he laughs to himself while standing to see me out.
“Looking forward to catching up later. Have a good night, Riley.”
I am on cloud nine, and I never want to be brought down again. I can’t believe it went that well. That he just said yes, just like that. I had no idea Mr. Bleeker, or Jim, as I’m now supposed to call him, thought that highly of me and my work here.
The first thought I have is I have to call Finn and see if he wants to get some celebratory ice cream with me. I feel a little guilty that I didn’t tell him beforehand, but I know he will understand.
I walk out the double door from the back and freeze. I guess it was too much for me to ask to stay floating in the clouds for even two minutes, because standing at the register with a sneer on his face is my father.
***
I’ve played this moment over and over again in my head and there have been variations of the man that I shared a home with growing up. I can’t say he raised me because he didn’t. He simply coexisted in the same space as me until we were out in public. Showing us off as the good little family he wanted the world to see. This version, however, is not something I expected in public.
The sheer hatred in his eyes is something I haven’t actually experienced. Indifference, absolutely, but hatred, you have to care for that, and I genuinely never thought that he cared.
I consider turning around and walking back through those doors to the back, but I’m frozen in place, blood whooshing through my ears and vision tunneling. I try to take a deep breath and steel my spine, but I feel myself start to shake a bit.
He steps right up to me, with his finger pointing in my face, and spits out, “You.” The smell of alcohol on his breath has me wincing. Alcohol, that can’t be right. My dad would never have touched alcohol in a million years. He thought it made people weak. Showed no self control. Right now, he smells like a frat house throwing a kegger to kick off summer vacation.
I don’t even know how to respond, so I just stand there dazed.
“Can’t even respond when your father is speaking to you? You always were a disrespectful little brat.”
My brain is working like molasses, as I’m trying to process what he’s saying. Disrespectful? I was always way too scared to be anything but sweet and docile. I don’t know that I had a disrespectful bone in my body. I’m trying to reply, but my mouth won’t open. I feel like a little girl again, being chastised for simply existing.
He takes another step toward me, and I have no choice but to take a step back, and my back hits one of the double doors. Now, I’m really shaking as I try to think of an exit strategy. I look over, and Craig is about to come and step up to my father, but I shake my head because I’m afraid for him, and I don’t know what my father is capable of when intoxicated.
“You took her from me, you little brat. Me and your mom were fine, and then you came along, and all Lilly cared about was you. She left me in the dust. After everything I did for her, everything I provided for her, she chose you.”
Everything he did for her? I squeeze my eyes tight and replay the years of her sickness in my mind in flashbacks. I can smell the hospital, the vomit as I held back her hair. I can hear the buzz of the shears as I cut off my mother’s beautiful hair when I was ten years old. I did that; he didn’t do anything. He went to work, sure, but where it really counted, being a present husband and father, he may as well have gone out for a carton of milk and not returned.
I feel myself sway and like I may lose consciousness. The last thing I hear is, “It would have been better if you were never born,” then it all goes quiet.