Chapter 2

Rainey

“Mommy, what is this thing?” Tanner held up a dark brown blob of an ornament. It slowly spun on the metal hook in front of him. The look of disgust on his normally adorable face was laughable.

I stood from the couch and walked over to him. “Tanner, honey, Mommy made that when she was in preschool.”

“It’s really ugly,” he said, curling his lip. “Like super, duper, uper ugly.”

“It’s sentimental,” I said and ruffled his sandy blonde hair and laughed. There was something precious about the fact that kids didn’t have a filter. Not in the slightest.

I took the ornament from him and examined the damage that another year in a box took on the fragile piece. I think it was supposed to be in the shape of a bear made from clay. One of the eyes was missing and there were several chips on the surface, but Mom insisted we keep it throughout the years. I knew not to throw it away. It was the first ornament we hung every year. She’d definitely look for it.

The door in the kitchen squeaked open.

Speak of the devil…

“Rainey?” Mom called out.

“In here,” I said, quickly placing the ornament on the tree. Tanner had already put several ornaments on the tree, so I had to make it look like we’d done that one first.

The branch bowed under the weight of the ornament, and a few needles dropped to the ground. Tanner insisted we had a real tree every year. I had his Dad, Killian to thank for that. Killian had told Tanner that real trees were the only option for Christmas. Thinking of Killian made my head hurt. He had a stubborn personality that had a way of grating on my nerves.

And at the impressionable age of six, anything Killian said was final in Tanner’s eyes. And I couldn’t say much. He didn’t see his father often, and I wanted to give him as normal of a childhood as I could even though his parents were separated.

“Grandma!” Tanner cheered. “Want to help me put the ornaments on the tree?”

Mom stood in the doorway, holding a plastic container in her hands. She narrowed her eyes at the tree and seemed satisfied when they landed on the ancient bear slash blob ornament. She put the container down in the kitchen then came back into the living room, raking her fingers through her short blonde hair as if the walk upstairs had ruined her perfectly coiffed style.

“Of course I do.” She smiled down at my son.

“Let me warn you now…” he paused and glanced back at me before leaning in toward my mother and lowering his voice. “Some of these are ugly. Really, really ugly, Grandma.”

She laughed before turning to me. “I don’t understand why you’re setting up so soon,” she said, her arms folded across her chest. “That tree might not last until Christmas.”

“Tanner insisted that we get the tree as soon as Thanksgiving was over.” I shrugged. In a way it was a good idea, but my mother was probably right. It wasn’t going to last. I promised myself I was going to get a job before Christmas. By decorating early, I had one less thing to do while I tried to focus on interviews.

“I’m going to water it every day!” Tanner bounced around excitedly. He’d already hung about ten ornaments in a small clump on the tree right at his eye level, and we were running out of the ornaments quickly.

“Honey spread them out a little more.” I ruffled his hair.

“Let me help you, dear,” Mom said and started for the ornament box. Most of the ornaments were from her collection, but she saved most of the fragile ones for her fake tree that would go up later in December. She was always last minute, but maybe it was an activity that she and Tanner could do while I was interviewing. Or working. I hoped for the latter.

Mom had to squeeze by me since the room was too small for three people, a tree and numerous boxes of decorations.

“Grandma, you’re tall, how about you put on the ornaments near the top and I’ll do the bottom ones,” Tanner said.

“That’s a good plan,” Mom said, digging into the box between them.

I sat back down on the couch and watched them put a few on the tree. Mom tried to give Tanner a history lesson on each piece, but he wasn’t paying attention. He frequently had that blank expression on his face when I was trying to tell him something important too.

“Do you want some coffee?” I asked. I already knew the answer before she said it. Mom was a caffeine addict.

“Do you need to ask?” she replied, giving me one of her famous looks. My mother could convey a wide range of emotions with one of the many expression she loved to use.

I went into the kitchen and pulled out a filter and the can of coffee. There was just enough for one pot, so I jotted down a note to pick up more. My grocery list was getting larger each week and with no paycheck, I’d have to borrow more money from my parents. I knew they didn’t mind, but I hated doing it. I made a mental note to go downstairs to use their computer and find at least three more job openings this week. I dumped the remainder of the coffee into the filter and filled the water reservoir.

While the coffee was brewing, I glanced at the food container on the counter and peeled the top away from one corner. The scent of the lasagna made my stomach growl. It was still warm. I grabbed a fork from the drawer and took a quick bite. So delicious! I quickly covered the food again and placed it in my refrigerator for tonight. I was afraid of eating the whole damn thing if I saw it again.

I walked back to the living room as if I hadn’t sneaked a taste.

“What’s Dad up to today?” I asked, opening the next box of decorations. Tinsel burst from the stuffed box and I tried to untangle it.

“He’s checking some job.” Mom snapped her fingers and I looked up at her. She mimed swiping her hand over her hair.

I did the same and realized I had a chunk of lasagna in my hair. Busted. I smiled at her and tied my hair up into a messy bun. It was always in my face. I needed a cut and coloring really bad, but that wasn’t in the budget this month.

She rolled her eyes. “You never could wait.”

“It’s so good, though, Mom.”

“Well, you know how your father is with leftovers. I need to give it to someone.”

Dad hated leftovers. It was a repeated argument in their house. At least Tanner and I would benefit from Dad’s pickiness. Though I had an idea she made two lasagnas instead of one, knowing we would be able to eat it for a few days.

“Can I have some too?” Tanner asked. He was a scrawny kid, but he could eat more than me. And he did on a regular basis.

“No, we’re saving that for dinner,” I said.

He stuck out his little bottom lip.

“But if you’re hungry, you can have a snack,” I amended.

“Cookies!” Tanner pumped his fists in the air and hopped over the ornament box and ran into the kitchen.

“No more than two!” I laughed and resumed his ornament-hanging duties.

“Any luck on the job front?” Mom asked now that Tanner was out of the room. The kid was like a sponge and repeated everything he heard. I didn’t need him to say anything at school about my work situation. Or worse, to Killian.

I picked out one of the more fragile ornaments, a large red and green ball, and hung it close to the top.

“I found a job this morning that looks pretty good. And I’m qualified. I’m going to check on it Monday.” Nerves raced through the center of my chest. Another job interview, another try, another possible failure.

“Well you just graduated in May so don’t worry if you can’t get something.”

“Mom, I do worry,” I said honestly. I expected bigger things for myself at twenty-nine. And for six months I’d been working my ass off to find a good job. “I’m not twenty-one and fresh out of college. I have a kid and I need to find my own place.”

“You and Tanner are always welcomed here,” Mom said. “For as long as you need to get on your feet.”

“I know. And I’m so grateful for you taking care of Tanner while I was at school and offering this apartment when you could be making money off a tenant.”

Mom waved a dismissive hand. “Don’t listen to your father. We don’t need the money, and I’m happy to have my daughter and grandson so close to us. It’s every mother’s dream to keep her family close.

It wasn’t my dream, though. Since the divorce, my life had been in a tailspin. I thought after getting married and having a child, my life would be complete. A cheating husband put a wrench in that. And since I didn’t want Tanner around someone who had a drinking habit to boot, I didn’t have much help other than my parents.

“Besides, I know you’re a hard-worker and none of this would have happened if Killian would have been honest with you.”

“Mom,” I warned.

She put up her hands defensively. “I’m done.”

She knew it was a sore subject for me. And with Tanner in the other room, I didn’t want him to know what his dad did to us. Even if Killian was a shitty husband, he was good with Tanner. At least when I was around. Since the divorce, Killian has only had supervised visits with our son.

“Anyway,” I said, desperate for some positivity. “It’s an assistant job to a real estate mogul. I could get some experience while building relationships with clients. I’m actually excited about it and I’m hoping they will let me interview last minute.”

“I’m sure you will do fine. You were always good with interviews.”

Yeah, I thought, I’m not so good about getting the jobs.

“What are you going to wear?” Mom asked.

I shrugged. “I have that pantsuit.” I’d bought it on clearance at a department store a year ago. It was a little big in some areas, but I couldn’t afford to get something tailored.

Mom sidestepped the tree and placed both hands on her thin waist. “You’re still wearing that hideous thing?”

“Mom!”

“Well, it is! I’m taking you shopping tomorrow to find something more professional.” She looked me up and down. “And something that fits.”

I sighed. “No, you’ve done enough.”

“Think of it as an early Christmas present,” she said.

“I don’t want any more charity. I’m so much in debt with you it's not funny.”

“Fine,” she said. “I’ll loan you the money and you repay me when you get the job.”

“With interest,” I said, not backing down.

“Absolutely not,” she said as if I’d insulted her.

I smiled, a little giddy to go shopping for myself. I hadn’t been in quite some time, and I loved hanging out with my mom for sure. “Deal.”

She picked up another ornament and held it in front of her. “Now about your hair.” She wasn’t holding back today.

“What about it?”

“I know you like to wear it down, but maybe for this interview, I think you should wear it back. You’ll look smarter and accentuate your eyes.” She wagged her eyebrows.

I rolled said eyes and knelt down next to the box of ornaments. I grabbed the small box of hooks to find a new one. “Mom, it’s an interview. The last thing I want is some guy’s attention. Seriously.”

“Rainey, I know you hate when people put attention on them, but they are absolutely gorgeous. Embrace what God gave you.”

As a child, the other kids made fun of my honey-brown eyes. They were different and kids had a way of exploiting unique qualities in order to bring others down. It wasn’t until after high school that I started to be okay with them. Killian had a way of complimenting them several times a day, which made falling for him so much easier. Sorrow raced through my heart, and I couldn’t help but reach up and rub my chest. Even after all the shit he’d put me through, there was some small part of me that wanted things to work out. Mostly for Tanner, but it was there nevertheless. I needed to get my mind on something else.

“So you’re saying the reason I haven’t gotten a job already is because of my clothes and wearing my hair down?”

“Well, it couldn’t hurt to change something after being in a rut. Though I think blame mostly falls on that outfit.”

She was right. I needed something to change. I was nervous that I didn’t have an appointment for the interview on Monday. I hoped by going into the office early Monday morning I’d be able to show my dedication and persistence. It was something that Mr. Carrington admired. At least that’s what the article about him in the New York Times had said. It was worth a shot and I had nothing to lose since I was already close to rock-bottom.