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Mama J didn’t reply, but Jane rifled through the bag anyway and pulled out the suit. “Isn’t it pretty? I work for a company that makes clothing for women, and I found one of their suits at the thrift store. It’s a line from a few years ago, but I think it’ll help make a better impression at the interview. It’s a little big and has a small rip in the skirt, but I can hide it with the jacket. See?”
Mama J was looking out the window again, and Jane touched her hand. “Mama J? Would you like me to read to you?”
“Who are you? Why are you in my room?” Mama J gave her a startled look.
“My name is Jane. I’m your daughter.”
“I don’t have any children.”
A tear slipped down Jane’s cheek, and she wiped it away before stuffing the suit back into the bag. “Why don’t you let me read to you for a while?”
“No, thank you.”
Mama J turned her face away, and Jane reached into her purse for a tissue. She brushed against the envelope Tanya had given her, and she wiped her face and blew her nose before opening the envelope. She read the single-page letter as her face paled.
“No, oh no,” she whispered.
She chewed at her bottom lip before leaning forward and kissing Mama J on her wrinkled cheek. “I have to go, but I’ll be back tomorrow to tell you about my job interview, okay?”
Mama J ignored her, and Jane kissed her again before gathering her things. She stopped at the nurses’s desk, and Tanya gave her a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry, Jane.”
“Five hundred dollars. It’s going up five hundred dollars a month?” Jane said. “Why?”
“It’s gone up for everyone,” Tanya said. “All the residents received the same notice.”
Jane didn’t reply, and Tanya squeezed her arm. “My sister works for another care home on the city's west side. It isn’t as nice as this one, but Josephine will receive good care. They have a waiting list, but if you put your name in now, you might - ”
“No,” Jane said. “I don’t want to move her. I’ll find the extra money each month.” She gave Tanya a small smile. “I have to go. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”
She hurried out of the nursing home and walked down the street toward the bus stop. A bitterly cold wind blew, and she zipped up her jacket and hunched her shoulders as she waited for the bus. The temperature had plummeted last week, and her thin jacket did nothing to keep her warm. She should have bought the winter coat she saw at the thrift store tonight, but she’d had just enough cash to buy the suit. She knew how lucky she was to have found it, but buying it cost her twenty-three dollars. She had three dollars and thirty-seven cents left in her bank account, and payday wasn’t for another three days. The money she’d spent on the suit had been earmarked for some ramen noodles and maybe a package of ground beef. With it gone, she had only a loaf of bread and half a jar of peanut butter to tide her over until payday.
You’ll make some tips tonight.
Yeah, she would, but she needed the tip money to pay her cell phone bill and buy a bus pass. The phone bill was due tomorrow, and her bus pass expired in two days. She couldn’t afford to give up either. The care home needed to be able to contact her, and she couldn’t exactly walk to work. The office building was downtown, and she lived in the section of the city the wealthy liked to refer to as the Badlands.
Hey, Janie? Not to interrupt, but how exactly will you pay the extra five hundred a month? You’re barely making ends meet as it is, her inner voice asked nervously.
The new job. She would ace the interview tomorrow, get the position as Mr. Dawson’s assistant and the pay increase would cover the five hundred dollars. She wouldn’t be getting ahead like she thought, but that didn’t matter. What mattered was keeping Mama J safe and happy. She owed her that.
The bus stopped in front of her, and she boarded it, feeling a numb gratefulness for the heat that washed over her. She chose a seat near the back, leaned against the window and closed her eyes. Her shift at the club started in half an hour, and she was already tired. She rubbed at her forehead before sticking her hands between her thin thighs to try and warm them. Maybe it wouldn’t be busy at the club tonight, and she could go home early. She always let one of the other girls go home – she couldn’t afford to leave early and miss out on potential tips – but she would need the extra sleep to ace that interview tomorrow.
CHAPTER 2
At exactly 8:13 the following day, Jane stepped into the elevator. She pushed the button for the thirty-seventh floor and smoothed her suit jacket. She could see her reflection in the shiny walls of the elevator, and she cringed a little. The suit really was much too big on her, and she supposed she should have chosen something that fit her. But to find a Dawson suit in a thrift store was a bloody miracle, and Maria had said that wearing something from their clothing line would make a good impression on Mr. Dawson.
She squared her shoulders and leaned forward to check her make-up. She was wearing a minimal amount - only a bit of mascara and a touch of berry coloured lip gloss. After the layers of make-up she wore at the club all night, she liked to give her skin a break. She was starting to second guess her decision, though. Most women in the office wore tailored suits, and their make-up was flawless. That’s probably what Mr. Dawson was expecting.
It was too late now. The elevator doors opened, and she quickly checked for stray strands of hair that might have fallen from the twist before stepping out. As the company's president, Mr. Dawson had an office on the top floor of the building. He shared it with a few other executives, including some of the designers and her current boss, Mark.
She smiled at the blonde woman sitting behind the desk in the reception area. “Hello, my name is Jane Smith. I have an appointment at eight-thirty with Mr. Dawson.”
“Have a seat, please. He’ll be with you shortly,” the woman said without looking up from her computer screen.
“Could you tell me where the ladies’ room is?” Jane asked.
The woman pointed down the hall, and Jane quickly walked to the bathroom. She slipped into the accessible stall, hung the jacket on the hook on the door and used the toilet. She adjusted the two clothespins she was using to keep the skirt's waistband closed around her waist and leaned against the wall for a moment. She took a few deep breaths before murmuring, “You can do this, Jane.”
She stepped away from the wall, her eyes widening when she felt the resistance and heard the ripping noise. She peered over her shoulder and cried out with dismay. A second hook was positioned lower on the wall she was leaning on. It had caught in the rip in her skirt and tore it even more.
