Chapter 16
ASH
God-damned bureaucratic pieces of fucking asshole excrement! I accidentally clicked the wrong thing when I submitted for my unemployment last week, and now I have zero clue when they will get it straightened out.
Continue to file your weekly claims. If benefits are approved, you will receive payment for each week submitted…
Glancing out the window, I see Gerry diving into the back of Jace’s van. The man of the hour is laughing at whatever antics his little brother is up to today. God, it’s so nice to see him smile.
“Move in with us.”
His words from last week have been haunting me. I haven’t lived with anyone since my parents to be honest, and I was kind of hoping that the first time I did would be because of a relationship… not because I can’t afford to pay my bills on my own.
Even if I could push down the shame, I don’t think I could handle getting closer to them than I already am. It would destroy me if Gerry had to suffer because someone like me was living under the same roof as them.
Fuck, what if social services had an issue with it?
My attention is pulled back to the computer screen when another email notification goes off. This time, it’s another rejection where they decided to go with a more qualified candidate but let me know they keep the application on file.
Why don’t they just say they want undereducated robots who won’t question the shady shit they put their workers through? If the kid who is high enough daily to keep six dispensaries operational can operate a fryer, how the hell am I not qualified? Hell, I use the fryer at Mac’s every fucking shift!
I am running out of options here.
Fast food? Rejected.
Restaurants? Rejected.
Call centers? Overqualified, but they’ll consider me if a supervisor position opens.
Retail? Ghosted.
Office administration? I’ve gotten responses ranging from going with another candidate to my answers on questionnaires being not aligned with company culture.
Receptionist? That one had me laughing. I don’t look like a receptionist, so I didn’t get the job.
Fucking everywhere has the “Help Wanted” signs up, but no one is actually hiring.
Every interview I have gone to, there have been at least half a dozen people waiting to interview on the same day as me.
Add in the times when I had to bring Gerry because I didn’t want to inconvenience Jace for a last minute call? The odds were never in my favor.
I have experience when they want education. I have a bachelor’s degree when they want a master’s degree. I have education when they want experience. They ask for ten years of experience on software that only existed for five.
What the fuck do they want from me?!
I close my laptop, resisting the urge to throw my wireless mouse against the wall. Maybe I should just go back to being masc every day…
The music from my Bluetooth speaker cuts out as the alert for a text interrupts the playlist Gerry made for me. Flipping my phone face up on my desk, I see it is from my mother. If it was Dad, I wouldn’t hesitate to respond. Mom, though…
Mom:
how’s my baby girl?
Glancing down at the pastel blue cami and shorts set I put on when I got out of bed this morning, I have to appreciate the irony that she at least got it right today.
I don’t understand why she refuses to check in before using gendered terms and always defaults to me being femme.
I think it would make more sense to me if I had always been a daughter to her.
At least if I had been assigned female at birth, she would have the excuse that she gave birth to a little girl.
But I was born with a penis and no vagina.
Mom:
have you found a job yet? Your Uncle Mike says you can come work for him if nothing pans out up there.
There it is. Usually, I have to hold the radio silence a bit longer before she caves with the real reason for her texts. Dad will do random check-ins. Mom never contacts me without an agenda anymore.
Me:
mike has Cindy running his office. He doesn’t have enough business to need a second admin.
Mom:
oh he needs work in the factory
Fucking hell. This woman expects me to move twelve hours away from the life I built here in Wrenshaw to go sling forty pound bags of dog food for ten hours a day?
Instead of going off on the woman, I dig through my contacts to locate my uncle. The last exchange we had was the obligatory Happy New Year text – from two years ago.
Me:
this is Ash. Did my mom ask u to find me a job?
I’m not surprised he answers right away. The man has been glued to his phone for years.
Uncle Mike:
she asked if i was hiring. didn’t kno it was 4 u. if i had, i wudve said no
Me:
Gee thanks. I feel so loved.
Uncle Mike:
u kno what i mean. U aint never been made 4 manual labor
After a few more texts back and forth, I put my phone on Do Not Disturb and restart the music.
I just don’t understand why family members I talk to twice a decade know me better than my own mother.
Even a redneck asshole – and I mean that in the lovingest of ways – like Uncle Mike doesn’t misgender me, so why do I have to put up with it from the woman who shot me out of her vagina?
Instead of searching for more jobs like a responsible adult, I decide to take shower…
again. I’m not filthy. I’m not horny. I just want to be truly alone with what that woman makes me feel.
I wasn’t enough as her son. I can’t be her perfect daughter.
Hopefully the hot water lets me clear my head enough to figure out my next steps.
“Move in with us.”
I crank the music up higher before I step into the scalding downpour, only to jump back onto the tile, nearly ending up on the floor. The icy spray depriving me of my release is bad enough, but my forearm making contact with the edge of the sink is what has the primal scream ripping from my throat.
Fuck.
Do I even have enough to cover a trip to urgent care?