“Just ignore her.”
I look up to see a woman sitting across from me. She’s dressed impeccably and her makeup is spotless. She doesn’t fit in this room. Maybe she’s here for a job interview.
“I’m sorry?”
She flashes me a soft smile. “I said to just ignore her. She’s like that every time I come in. I think she just likes to fight with people for fun.”
I glance back over at the workers who are still loudly discussing my case. “And they let her get away with it?”
The woman across from me, who I guess is actually a customer like me, shrugs. “What are they gonna do? Social workers get paid terrible wages across the board to work in an office with screaming kids coming in and out all day. I’m sure the resumé pool isn’t all that impressive.”
A little girl I didn’t notice before who is about Carson’s age approaches and lays her head on the woman’s lap. I smile at the gentle way she strokes the little girl’s hair and I can’t help but wonder about her story. She’s obviously older than me by a lot, but we have a child the same age. By the way she’s dressed, if I saw her on the street, I’d assume she was a business professional of some sort or maybe even a PTA mom.
“Still.” I pull in a breath to calm the thoughts in my head. “It sucks to be treated like I’m trying to get away with something.” I look over at my sweet boy who is still playing quietly. “His dad died in a car accident. I didn’t have anything to do with that.”
“Oh honey, you don’t have to convince me. I’m right there with you. My ex-husband left me with three kids. My oldest is twelve and has brain damage from oxygen deprivation at birth. There is no daycare for a kiddo like him and he can’t be left alone so I can’t work outside my house. Especially not during holidays and summer break when there isn’t even school. But people forget that part. They just assume we’re out partying and popping out babies for fun, then coming in here for help cleaning up our mess.”
Wow. As hard as my situation is, I can’t imagine trying to provide for more than one. Even more impressive is how she can still have a decent attitude about it. “Do you ever get used to it?”
“Being treated like dirt?” I nod. “No. But you stop trying to change people’s minds. My focus is on my kids, not anyone else. They all have their own crosses to bear. If I wallowed every time they tried to add to mine, I’d never get anything done.”
I look at Carson again just as he glances up from the dirty toy table that probably has never been disinfected. He smiles at me like I’m his whole world, which I am. And he’s mine.
If it was just me, I’d walk right out of this office and never look back. But it’s not. For him, I’ll suffer the humiliation. For him, I’ll deal with women that have no business working in social services if they don’t have an ounce of compassion in them.
“You are young and he is precious,” my new friend adds. “Keep making good choices and keep putting one foot in front of the other. This is just a season in your life. I promise.”
“I could say the same back to you.”
She laughs. It’s hearty and joyful. I hope I run into her every time I have to come in. “I wish I could believe you but it’s a different animal when you have a child that’s in and out of the hospital. Especially being an older mom. But it’s okay. I’m strong. I’m healthy. And my prayer life has increased a million-fold since I started doing this by myself. I’ll be fine. And in the meantime, I’ll pretend like I’ve been put here to help lift people back up when someone,” she glares at the lady at the front counter, “tries to bring them down.”
A door opens up behind me and someone calls out, “Carson.”
“That’s us. Carson, come on baby.”
“See? If they’re taking you back it means you were right. They just had to get their thumbs out of their butts.”
I pick Carson up and turn to my new friend, hoping to express the gratitude I feel. “Thank you. Truly.”
“You’re very welcome. Maybe we’ll see each other next time.”
I give a small wave and we follow yet another person into the back offices. The appointment is quick and relatively painless. Carson would disagree since he is the one whose finger got stuck for a quick iron test. But all in all, the appointment isn’t terrible. And the whole time, I think about the woman in the lobby and everything she said.
She’s right. This is just a season in my life. It’s a really hard season with lots of work and not lots to show for it. But I’m grateful for amazing friends, an amazing boss, and amazing strangers who can put things back into perspective.
I can choose how I respond to the boulders that drop in my way and I want to be as gracious and content as the woman I met. That means no more wallowing in the past. No more anger over Spence’s betrayal or his mother’s horrific treatment. No more jumping to conclusions when a nice man tries to let me down easy. All of that is over and done with. From here on out, it’s a choice to be grateful for what I’ve been given, including a loaded WIC card to go buy some milk.
After I buckle Carson into his seat and me into mine, I take a deep breath. “Are you ready, buddy? Let’s move on with our lives.”
“Yeah, mama!” he yells having absolutely no idea what I’m talking about. It doesn’t matter anyway. Just knowing he’s with me in my fresh take on life is enough.
As I put the car in drive, my phone rings. I glance down and see it’s Nicole. Quickly I connect my Bluetooth to answer.
“Hey sis. How’s it going?”
“K…Ki…Kiersten?” Her voice breaks when she says my name and I can tell she’s bawling. My body runs cold. I know, I know what she’s going to say, even though I’m praying I’m wrong. “I need your help.”
“I’m on my way, baby sister. Just hold on.”
Pressing on the gas, I race home. My season may be hard, but nothing is going to stop me from helping my sister through hers.
TWENTY-THREE
Paul
It’s been four days since I’ve seen Kiersten and the guilt gets worse every minute that passes. I’m the one who drove her away. I crossed a line that never should have been crossed and consequently the exact issue I was trying to avoid happened. Kiersten was hurt in the worst way.
I’m trying not to let my emotions bleed over into the business, but I was wounded, too. I wasn’t hurt in the same way she was, but it all still stings. Knowing I had one night with her, but that’s all I’ll ever have. Knowing I fell hard for her and can’t do anything about it makes my heart feel like it’s in a shredder.
“Alright, Mr. Moody.” Tammy drops her tray on the counter and unloads some dirty glasses into the bucket. I ignore her nickname, too irritated to address it. “I need a house IPA, a margarita on the rocks, and an apple pie for our favorite pool shark.”
I raise my eyebrows in surprise as I fill a mug with beer, careful to not make it too frothy. “Dwayne’s drinking something other than water? What happened to keeping his skills sharp?”
“He said something about not having any worthy opponents tonight so he might as well booze it up instead.”