Chapter 6 #3
His voice is doing something to me. It’s deep, a little husky, the kind of voice that sounds like it should be on the radio or narrating documentaries about the ocean or something equally inappropriate to be thinking about while on a job interview phone call.
There’s also something familiar about it, like maybe I’ve heard it before, but that’s impossible because I don’t know anyone in New York except Cori and Brett and Marcus and—
“Do you have experience with children?” he asks, pulling me back.
Right. The question I’ve been dreading. I start biting on my thumbnail, catch myself, pull it away from my mouth.
“Okay, so on the topic of transparency, I don’t have any formal experience with kids.
I’m going to be honest about that. But I’m responsible and I’m a quick learner, and I think part of what makes me a good candidate is that I really need this job, which I know sounds desperate but it means I’m going to show up and give it everything I have.
I’m not going to flake or decide after a week that it’s not for me.
I need this to work, which means I’ll make it work. ”
There’s a pause on the other end, long enough that I start to panic. I’ve either repelled him with my bluntness or intrigued him with my honesty.
“No experience at all?” he asks finally. “Even with younger siblings? Cousins?”
“I’m an only child. No cousins that I know of.”
“Oh.”
Another pause, and I’m already preparing myself for the polite brush-off, the thanks-for-calling-but-we’re-looking-for-someone-with-more-experience speech I’ve gotten from approximately every other job I’ve applied for in this city.
“Look, I should probably tell you,” he says, and his voice has gone careful in a way that makes my stomach drop.
“Emma’s going through some things right now.
Her mom isn’t exactly in the picture anymore—it’s fresh, only about six months—and she’s really struggling behaviorally.
It’s bad. I think someone with some experience might be better equipped to navigate that. ”
“How is she struggling?” I ask, because it seems important to know, and also because I’m not quite ready to accept defeat yet.
“She’s just been…picky about who she wants to be around right now.” He sounds sad, and like he’s had to explain this too many times already. “I’m not saying it’s impossible, just that it might be more challenging than a typical four-year-old.”
“And how’s that been working out for you?” I ask before I can stop myself. “The hiring people with experience thing?”
There’s a pause, and then this small laugh, surprised and a little rueful. “That’s a fair point.”
Something loosens in my chest. “Look, here’s what I’m thinking.
We could help each other. I’m new to the city, I desperately need a job, and I’m willing to give this everything I have.
If you hire me and you hate me or Emma hates me, you can fire me, no hard feelings.
But maybe—and I know this is optimistic—maybe the fact that I don’t have experience means I won’t come in with all these preconceived notions about how kids are supposed to act or what I’m supposed to do.
Maybe I’ll just figure it out with her, you know? ”
Another pause, longer this time, and I’m chewing on my thumbnail again, my heart still beating too fast.
“Can you come in for an interview tomorrow?” he asks finally. “Around ten in the morning? It’s one of my days off. You can meet Emma, we can see how you two get along.”
“Yes. Absolutely. I’ll be there.”
“I’ll give you the address. Are you able to write it down?”
“Yes, yes, totally. Whenever you’re ready.” I’m scrambling for the pen Cori handed me at some point during this conversation, scribbling the address on the edge of the newspaper. “Thank you, Leo. Really.”
“Thank you for calling. It was good talking to you, Annie.” He pauses, and then adds, “This might sound strange, but your voice sounds really familiar. Have we met before?”
I let out a breath that’s almost a laugh. “We haven’t. But I thought the same thing about your voice, actually.”
“Interesting.” There’s a smile in his voice now, I can hear it. “Okay. Well. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”
“See you tomorrow. Good night.”
“Good night, Annie.”
The line goes dead and I just sit there for a second, the phone still pressed to my ear, my heart still racing.
“Oh my God! Well?” Cori is staring at me, her chopsticks suspended in mid-air. “That sounded like it went well?”
I set the phone down carefully, like it might explode if I’m not gentle with it. “It was okay, I guess. I got an interview.”
“You got an interview!” Cori actually squeals, grabbing my hand and squeezing it so hard it almost hurts. “Annie! This was meant to be! I felt it the second I saw the ad, I swear to God.”
“It’s not guaranteed I have the job or anything,” I say, but I’m smiling despite myself, this cautious hope blooming in my chest that I’m afraid to acknowledge too directly.
Cori grabs both my shoulders, her red ponytail swinging as she leans in close, her brown eyes bright with excitement, all those freckles dancing across her nose and cheeks.
“This shit was destined, I’m telling you.
You’re going to walk in there tomorrow and she’s going to love you and he’s going to hire you on the spot and everything’s going to work out.
” She grins, wider now. “Plus, maybe he’ll turn out to be hot. That would be a nice bonus.”
I roll my eyes, but I’m laughing. “Even if he is, he’d be my boss. So he would be extremely off-limits.”
“Says who?” Cori wiggles her eyebrows suggestively.
“Says like, basic professional boundaries? Common sense? The fact that I desperately need this job and can’t afford to screw it up by developing some inappropriate crush on my employer?”
“Where’s your sense of adventure?”
“I think I used it all up when I moved across the country with hardly any money to my name and no plan.”
“Fair.” Cori laughs and swats at my arm. “God, you know what? You’re going to be amazing at this. I can feel it.”
“You’re a psychopath. Do you know that?”
“I’ve been told.” She’s grinning and I’m laughing too now, this real laugh that feels like it’s coming from somewhere deep in my chest, and for the first time in weeks I feel like maybe, possibly, things might actually be okay.
On the TV, the Friends theme song starts up again, the opening chords of “I’ll Be There For You” filling the apartment, and Cori settles back against the couch, pulling the container of lo mein into her lap.
“Okay, Nanny Girl, you have to watch this. This is the one where Ross finds out he’s having a baby with his lesbian ex-wife.
Yes, I watched it without you, but you’re going to love it. ”