Page 22 of Find Me in the Rain
She gently shakes my hand and then moves to Charlotte.
She reciprocates. “I’m Charlotte. I’m guessing you’re Mila.”
She casually tucks her hands into her trouser pockets. “That’s me.” She turns, continuing to talk to us, “Do you guys have a résumé with you? If not, don’t worry; it’s not a problem. Right this way.”
We scuttle after her, trying to keep up with her stride. This woman is a power walker.
We step through the doorway to an office. It has a large desk in the center with papers stacked every which way. She takes her seat behind the desk and gestures to the two chairs in front of it.
She rapidly types stuff out on her phone before stowing it away in her desk drawer. “Let’s get started. Why don’t you guys tell me a little bit about yourselves?” She gestures her hand out to me to start.
I clear my throat before my professional voice instinctively kicks in. “It’s great to meet you. My name is Laura. I’m twenty-two years old. I grew up here and have been to Fireflies a couple of times. It seems like such a fun place to work.” I look to Charlotte to show that I have ended my introduction.
She takes the cue and settles into the chair, crossing her legs. Her bubbly voice is ready to shine. “I’m Charlotte. I’m twenty-two. I grew up here as well—with Laura in fact.” She flashes her award-winning smile at me. “We were here last weekend when you guys had the fae theme. It was so fun, and the energy was insane. We would love to be a part of this.”
My attention returns to Mila. She continues to ask us a few questions about our previous work. She also asks us more about ourselves. I like that she seems like she genuinely wants to get to know us instead of it being some dumb interview where you don’t even crack the surface.
After what feels more like having lunch than sitting in an interview, she says, “All right, ladies, well, I think you both would be an incredible fit for the team. You’re young and fun, you seem quick-witted, and you’ll be a catch with our crowds.”
After going over paperwork, pay, and expectations, Mila offers her hand to each of us to shake. She gives us a sheet of paper with the next five dress-up themes, which we’ll need to get costumes for. She doesn’t like doing matching ones because she wants everyone to feel comfortable and be able to show their own style.
I know I haven’t even started yet, but so far, so good. And now, Char and I have a shopping trip in the near future, which is something I’m actually looking forward to. Hopefully, we’ll find some good sales.
Our first shift is this upcoming Saturday. The club doesn’t open until nine, but we have to be here at seven to go over some training and help prep.
When the door of the club closes behind us, we finally celebrate, and Char aggressively pulls me into a hug.
“Oh my God, we did it!” I squeal to her.
She thrashes me around with her continuous happy dance. “Let’s go celebrate at home!” She turns on her heels and takes off for the car, not looking back.
I laugh to myself and chase after her.
Fireflies annoyingly reminds me of Alec.
He will be leaving soon enough anyway, so I just need to push him to the back of my mind and keep him there. Out of sight, out of mind.
If only it were that easy.
7
Ishift the car in park before leaning my head against the steering wheel. Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath. I normally come on Sundays, but since tonight is my first shift at Fireflies, I want tomorrow to just hang out and recover from the late night that I’m sure it will be.
I left Jack at home this time. I don’t want him to see her in the shape she’s in. The doctor called earlier this week and said that her vitals have been deteriorating. They don’t know how to fix her.
When she had her stroke, her heart stopped for a few minutes, which meant that her brain wasn’t getting any oxygen. They have done everything they can. It’s up to her to come back to us. Right now, we just wait.
I don’t register anything on the walk to her room. I think I take the elevator, but I don’t remember pressing any buttons.
Seeing her like this is unbearable. I can’tnotvisit because no matter how bad she gets, this could be my last time seeing her. Every time could be the last time. This pain is insufferable, but one day, I will wish I could feel it just one more time. Because she will be gone … for good.
I don’t know how I’m going to even process that, let alone tell Jack. He idolizes her. But it’s weird; sometimes, I feel like kids are better at dealing with death than adults. Maybe it’s a time thing—because we’ve known them longer. Or maybe kids are just purer, less selfish. They want their loved ones to have peace, be pain-free.
But me? I’m definitely selfish.
I turn the handle on her door, and my heart constricts. Her cheekbones have sunken in more. Her skin is paler than normal.
She looks … well, she looks like death.
