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“Shut the door behind you, please.”
Twenty minutes later, I emerge from her office, faint with shock. The state has cut down on funding for the library. Unless we can come up with a year of my salary in the next couple weeks, I’ll be out of a job by the end of the month.
“That’s why we’re having this fundraiser,” she had explained. “For the next week, I’m minimizing your regular responsibilities so you can focus your energies on the library fundraiser. If we make enough money, we’ll be able to keep you on.”
I take a break and sit in my car for some privacy and a chance to gather my thoughts. Slow tears run down my face. I’m sad, scared, and overwhelmed. This morning I was on cloud nine, and now I may not have a job in a month. After a few minutes, my emotions settle, and I’m able to take a deep breath.
This isn’t the end of the world. Working in a library is all I’ve ever wanted to do. I love my job here in Fairview. I have friends, a community, and I finally met a guy I could see spending the rest of my life with. I have a chance to save my job. I’m not going down without a fight.
Roger and I exchange some texts during the week.
Roger: I’m watching Pride & Prejudice
Tootsie: The BBC version or the other one?
Roger: Must be the other one. I’m not sure why Mr. Darcy is so popular. He’s kind of an ass.
Tootsie: Don’t say that. Just wait til the end.
Roger: We’ll see
Tootsie: You could always read the book. :P I have a couple copies. I could lend you one. You wouldn’t even have to check it out from the library
Roger: I’d rather spend time with you
Tootsie: You win.
Unfortunately, our schedules don’t line up. Mostly because I’m working my ass off to make sure the fundraiser is successful. I reach out to some of my Vincent Street friends, seeing if they have some ideas for raising money. Dot wrangles some tickets to her law firm’s masquerade that we can raffle off. Penny from the animal rescue plans to bring some puppies in a pen, and people can pay to cuddle and play with puppies. Lily, who owns the coffee shop next door, offers to donate coffee, tea, and cookies.
By the end of the week, I’m crashing into my bed wearing my most comfy pjs, exhausted but hopeful. Everything is ready to go. The fundraiser is tomorrow night. It’s kind of an evening carnival with a hodgepodge of food, prizes, a book sale, and games that appeal to both adults and kids. I’m a little nervous about my contribution, but the theme is consistent with the month, and at this point, I’ll do anything to keep my job.
At least I’ll see Roger tomorrow. He’s coming to support the fundraiser. I haven’t told him my job is on the line. I just feel so vulnerable thinking about it, and if everything goes well tomorrow night, it won’t be an issue anyway. I send him a good night kitty GIF, turn off the light, and fall asleep.
