Night Road(116)

She moved toward him confidently, extended her hand. “Hello, sir. I’m Alexa Baill. I’ve come to apply for the clerk position.”

He shook her hand. “Follow me.”

She followed him back into a small, windowless office that was stacked high with cardboard boxes. He sat behind the metal desk and pointed to a stool in the corner.

She dragged the stool over to the desk and sat down, feeling a little conspicuous on the perch.

“Do you have a résumé?”

Lexi felt her cheeks heat up. “No. It’s a sales clerk job, right? In high school, I worked at Amoré, the ice cream shop. I’m good with money and even better with people. I’m a good employee, and I can work any shift. I could get you some recommendations.”

“When did you work at Amoré?”

“From 2002 to 2004. I … quit in June, after I graduated from high school.”

He wrote something down on a piece of paper that looked like an application. “And you’re home from college now? Is this a summer job for you?”

“No. I’m looking for full-time employment.”

He looked up sharply. His thick eyebrows veed together. “You went to Pine Island High?”

“Yes.”

“Most local kids don’t work here full-time. Where have you worked since high school?”

Lexi swallowed hard. “Part-time in a library.”

“What library?”

She let out a quiet breath and lost her good posture. “Purdy.”

“You don’t mean—”

“The prison. I’ve been in prison for a few years. But now I’m out, and I’ll be a good employee. I guarantee you that.” She was speaking, but it was useless. She saw the way his face shuttered at the word prison, the way he wouldn’t meet her gaze now.

“All right, then,” he said, giving her his first smile—and it was pure fiction. “I’ll contact you when we’ve made our decision.”

“That means no job,” she said, sliding off the stool.

“It means I’ll contact you if we want to hire you.”

“Yeah.” She tried to stay optimistic; it was only the first of many potential jobs. Maybe other employers would be more liberal minded. “So, do you want my phone number?”

He looked at her finally. “You can give it to me if you want.”

She wanted to tell him no way and walk out with some stitch of dignity, but she had Grace to consider, so she wrote down her phone number and left the drugstore’s bright interior. Outside, she opened her newspaper and found the next opening. A waitress position at Esmerelda’s Mexican Kitchen.

For the rest of the afternoon, Lexi tried to believe in herself, even as one job after another evaporated in front of her. Most of the available positions were part-time, without benefits. She lost track of the times some employer had mentioned the economy as her enemy. Apparently she’d gone to prison in good times and come out in bad. Minimum wage was less than nine dollars an hour. That gave her maybe fifteen hundred dollars a month income, before taxes; well over half would go to rent.

But apparently none of that mattered because she couldn’t get a job. She’d spoken to twelve employers today, and every conversation ended up the same way.

What have you been doing since high school?

College, really? Where?

Who was your last employer?

Oh (and the look)—the prison library.

I’m sorry, the position had been filled … You’re too young … I’ll let you know …

One excuse after another. The hell of it was, she couldn’t blame them. Who wanted to hire a twenty-four-year-old ex-con?

And if that weren’t bad enough, after her useless job interviews, she’d checked out housing on the island.

There were only three apartment complexes, and one thing was sure: she couldn’t afford to live in any of them. The smallest of the available units rented for nine hundred fifty dollars per month. Plus, the landlord required first and last month’s rent and a security deposit in advance. Twenty-four hundred dollars, due on the day she signed the lease agreement.

It might as well be a million dollars.

A few phone calls confirmed that Port George was no better.

There were more rentals available on the other side of the bridge, but they were still way too expensive.

The whole day defeated Lexi. By the time she gave up, it was seven o’clock at night and she just wanted to be alone. She rode her bike through the quiet summer night and parked outside Scot’s office. Using her key, she walked inside. All she wanted to do was sleep. Or scream.

“Lexi? Is that you?”

She sighed and forced a smile. She owed Scot everything; it wasn’t his fault she was such a pathetic loser. “Hey, Scot,” she said, heading into his office. “You’re working late.”

“I was waiting for you. I have a surprise. Come here.”

He took her by the hand and led her to the conference room. On the long wooden table, a laptop was open. “Here,” he said, “sit down.”

Lexi did as she was told.

Scot left the room for a few moments and then returned. “Okay, we’re ready.” He pushed a button on the laptop and Aunt Eva’s worried face filled the screen. “I don’t know, Babs. How can you tell if it’s working?”