Finding June (4 page)

I wasn’t trying to portray the image of someone who needed to be saved. I was an independent woman, I could take care of myself. Jolene was right; this was the first time I only had to answer to myself and the first time I had ever really been on my own.

My mind was a jumble of thoughts. The warm cup of tea felt good in my hands and the music playing was soothing. In that moment I closed my eyes, took five deep breaths, and focused only on those two things … the warmth and the music. Meditation was something I’d taken on this summer, as I would wake up each morning and sit outside of my cabin, taking in the breathtaking mornings, the roaring silence of the forest centering me.

Slowly opening my eyes and seeing my apartment, I came to the conclusion I could do this. In that moment, I decided instead of looking at the bare walls as lacking life, it was a blank canvas and for the first time I had control over what would fill the walls. The problem was still, though, that I had no idea what to fill them with.

I also knew I wouldn’t be able to fill them tonight, so I crawled into bed—alone—and fell into a dreamless sleep.

I woke the next morning sprawled across the bed diagonally with one foot under a blanket and the rest on the floor. Okay, so I could get used to sleeping by myself; look at all the bed I had control of. I was snuggled under the covers when my phone rang. Seeing it was my mother calling, I sighed and picked up the phone.

“Hello.” Sleep laced my voice; it was blatant I was still in bed.

“June! You’re not still in bed right now, are you?” I pulled the phone away from my ear as my mother screeched in it.

“Yeah, I am. I don’t work till four.”

I heard my mom give the biggest melodramatic sigh, and then in a short tone said, “You have that interview I set up for you in thirty minutes. If you miss it you will be making me look bad. I had to pull a lot of strings to get you this interview.”

Oh shit. I knew I was forgetting something. My mother, in her attempts to fix me, had set up a job interview here in Boise for some kind of job in a bank.

“I’ll be there. What’s the address?”

She repeated the address and reminded me again to not make her look bad, abruptly hanging up before I could say good-bye. Well, all right then.

Looking at the clock again, I saw I really only had about twenty minutes to get dressed and be at said interview. I grabbed decent looking black slacks, which luckily didn’t smell like grease from work, and a purple top that could pass for professional. My hair was all over the place from the night before and sleeping on it, so I threw it back up into a bun, trying to calm it down as much as possible. A few minutes later I was out the door.

Soon, I was in downtown Boise in an elevator going to the fifth floor. I smoothed down the shirt I was wearing, noticing it was still wrinkled from being packed away. I shook my head at my disheveled appearance, finding the irony on how closely it intimidated my life. The elevator opened and I walked up to the front desk. I told the up-tight looking receptionist my name and that I was here for an interview. She gave me a bored expression, picked up her phone, and then looked at me and said it would be a few minutes.

Ooookay.

I glanced behind her to see a slew of cubicles. I was potentially looking into my future, and it consisted of grey walls and lackluster days full of phone calls while staring at a computer screen. I didn’t know how I felt about it. I had a degree in business, and this was business. This was the way to the good life. Right? However, I was beginning to question whose good life I was trying to live. My parents? Owen’s still? Mine? Is this what my good life looked like? I didn’t have much more time to think about it when a man in his early forties walked out.

“June Rosewood?” He looked down to what I assumed was my resume in his hand.

“Present.” I didn’t think that was the correct answer. Shitsticks.

The man glanced up from the paper, tilting his head. “Why don’t you come back and we can chat.”

I stood and followed the man through a maze of hallways and cubicles, feeling like a mouse in an experiment. After I was completely lost, the man finally opened a door and instructed me to take a seat.

When I had settled into the leather chair, the man said, “Miss Rosewood, your mother said you were looking for employment after graduating last spring.”

“Well, I have a job right now, but I guess one that deals with my degree … that I don’t have. Recession and all that fun stuff. You know?”
Good job, June, that was just a superb opening
, I thought to myself.

The man slowly nodded his head. “I do know. Which is why we carefully consider all of our applicants because we know jobs are limited. We want to make sure we have the right candidate. Why would you be the right candidate for this job?”

I tried to recall if I actually knew what this job was about. It was at a bank, which meant I was probably going to deal with money, but I guess I had zoned out when my mother was telling me specifics. So far, this was going fantastic.

However, if I learned one thing in college, it was the art of bullshitting.

“With my degree in business, I believe my skills can greatly increase efficiency in this company.”
Companies loved when you increased efficiency.
“I have great social skills and can work well with others.”
Generally, at parties I was the first one tipsy and loved making new friends.
“I’m well organized and great at time management.”
My life might be in upheaval, but I was known for my kick ass color coded notes in college. People envied them
. “And lastly, my easy going personality and strong business sense would be a great addition to your team.”
That last statement was actual bullshit. I didn’t know if anyone would describe me as easy going.

The man waited to see if I had anything else to add, but I sat up straighter in the chair and gave him my best fake server smile. After a few awkward moments of silence, he gave me a small smile and said, “And where do you see yourself in five years?”

Oh fuck.

What a shitty question.

Whoever invented this question only did it to use as a torture tactic. If you had asked me five years ago this question, my answer would not have been sitting here trying to get a job I didn’t think I wanted. And really there was only a few ways to answer the question. You couldn’t say you would like to be hanging out with the homeless guy in the park, or with the person who you
think
is a lady on the corner. Those were highly unacceptable answers. I was a woman, too, so if I said I wanted to have kids and be a mom it didn’t look good because in the long run I wasn’t a good risk. If I say something akin to I want power and to rule the world, but I would settle for the company, well that statement scared people.

As fake as I could be, I said, “In five years … I plan on having a grasp on what I want in life. I guess I want to be happy and secure in the road my life is on.” Honesty is the best answer, and I was trying to show I wasn’t a complete idiot but did have goals. My fake smile turned into a real smile, as confidence grew in my answer.

Apparently the old man wasn’t as impressed. He did a slight head nod and asked me a few more questions, which I half-heartedly answered. After he was done, he stood up and shook my hand, telling me he would contact me in a few days about the job. I could already tell by his lackluster handshake and farewell I was screwed. There was no way this guy would be offering me the position.

I told the cranky secretary to have a wonderful day with a chipper voice and all I got was a dirty look. Oh yeah, this was totally a place I wanted to spend most of my time. Look at all the charm. I shook my head as I left, annoyed that I’d wasted my time with this venture.

As I wiggled the key to get into the apartment, I cursed the door. Finally, I was able to open it, pushing with enough force that it slammed into the wall. I hated this door. Looking over, I saw a dent from the door. There was a ding off my deposit.

I glanced at the clock to see I still had a few hours before my shift at four thirty. Staying up late talking to Jolene and the abrupt morning had taken a lot out of me. I crashed on my bed, but set an alarm so I could get ready for work in time.

My alarm blasted and woke me up. Throwing on my work clothes, I tried to get rid of the sleepiness that was following me. Every time I took a nap and had to go to work I was not in a good mood. Pair it with my stellar interview this morning and I was in a ripe mood. I felt bad for whoever got in my path.

I walked into The Shack to see Jolene was still there from the morning shift and Reece was right behind me, also coming on for the night shift.

Jo rushed up to me and said, “I just got sat with a five top in the corner booth, but I have a date tonight. Could you please, please, please take it for me?” I looked over at the table with the five people sitting in it; a family with three kids. Jo owed me.

I was about to answer, but I heard a deep voice behind me state, “I can take it if June doesn’t want to.”

My eye twitched. I turned around. “I can take it,” I said in a clipped tone.

Reece was slightly taken aback, but only for a second before he put on an easy going smile.

“Only if you want to.”

“Isn’t that what I said?” I zeroed in on Reece. Did he think I was not capable of taking a table right when I walked in? I folded my arms over my chest, holding my ground.

“I believe that
is
what you said,” Reece answered slowly. It was like he was circling around a tiger and he didn’t want to get pounced on. I didn’t answer him, but grabbed my server book from the apron and walked to the table, shooting Reece an evil glare as I stomped away.

After putting the order in, I went over to the salad bar and stood next to Reece as he stocked it.

“How’s your day?” Reece asked as he grabbed a container of ranch.

“You’re doing it wrong.”

“Excuse me?” Reece stopped what he was doing.

“You need to grab the ranch from yesterday not the one from today.” I tried to soften my voice as I talked to him, taking away the bitchy tone. I pointed to the sticker on the plastic container that said the date. Reece glanced down and grabbed the correct one.

“Thanks, June, what would I do without you?” I was a pro at sarcasm detection and this man was oozing it at this moment.

“You met me yesterday. I’m sure you would have been fine.” I didn’t mean for that to come off as bitchy, and luckily Reece didn’t bat an eye. Instead, he gave me a really fucking adorable crooked half-smile. It totally caught me off guard, and I decided at that moment, it could easily become my favorite thing. I also had no idea where that dangerous thought came from. I quickly pushed it down.

“Maybe, but it only takes one encounter to change everything.” With this he winked and then walked off. My focus was no longer on his smile. I stood there with my mouth open, not believing what I heard. What the hell?

“You okay, Junebug?” Hearing Jo’s voice, I snapped out of it and saw her standing there with her purse, about to leave.