Until Cece (Happily Ever Alpha World)

“Do you have any more questions?” Mia asks them, and they shake their heads, seeming… not disinterested, but like they don’t know what to think.

Ruby hops down from her seat and runs around the counter to give Mia a hug. “I’m just glad you’re here, Mimi. Now maybe Mommy won’t cry anymore,” she tells her, and my heart sinks. I thought I’d been so stealthy with my emotions, when really my kids were just giving me grace.

“I’m glad I’m here too, my little munchkin. Now let’s go get ready for bed. I’m beat.” Mia gives me a look that says she’s got the girls, and I nod.

While she takes them upstairs, I clean up the casserole dish I had soaking in the sink from dinner and set it in the drying rack. I pull down two wine glasses from the cabinet and grab the bottle of Moscato out of the fridge I put in there earlier today to chill, and then I find the corkscrew. I’m not much of a drinker, but when I do, it’s normally a sweet wine. I’ve always wanted to try other things, but I kind of missed out on the whole party years of life. I was home taking care of two newborns and learning to be the perfect wife when I was twenty-one. And Mike thought a woman drinking anything other than a glass of wine wasn’t classy, so wine it was.

The thought is an interesting one and gives me an idea, one I voice when Mia comes trotting down the stairs and into the kitchen. “What about a bar? I could be a waitress, right? Surely I wouldn’t need a college degree to take people food and drinks to their table.”

She nods. “That’s an idea. Although don’t be surprised if they require you to have food service experience in order to even interview.”

I pour the uncorked wine into two glasses and slide one across the island to Mia. “That’s my dilemma every time I look at the damn classifieds. They say experience necessary, but how can I get experience if no one will hire me? I applied for a front desk position to just answer and direct phone calls, and even they blew me off, saying they required at least three years’ experience. Three years. Just to answer a freaking phone!”

“Was that over the internet, the phone, or in person? Because I know in person works a lot better than the others, because they can’t just ignore you and blow you off. Thank goodness my school had the placement program when I became a CNA. I didn’t have to go looking for a position. They came looking for us.” She takes a sip of her wine and sets it down. She doesn’t drink much either, but tonight seemed to call for something a little stronger than just the fresh sweet tea I made.

“The phone. I saw the ad on the internet and called them. I haven’t been anywhere in person yet,” I tell her, for the first time ever slightly jealous that my sister decided to go to college right after high school, knowing exactly what she wanted to do with her life. She’s always been a nurturer, so it was no surprise when she chose to be a CNA.

“How about this. Tomorrow, you and I will scour the local sites, like Craigslist, Next Door, and Facebook Marketplace. Those might have more entry-level type job listings than the big wigs. We’ll make a list of all the ones that really stand out to you, and then we’ll drive around and go talk to them in person. Well, you will. I’ll wait in the car. I don’t think it’d be the best impression to take your little sister to hold your hand.” She grins, making me chuckle.

I blow out a breath, feeling relieved that I have someone to keep my head straight and help me come up with a plan. When it was all on me to think of every minor detail, it seemed too vast and overwhelming, and it just made me shut down.

“That sounds like the perfect plan. I’m so glad you’re here, sis,” I tell her, hoping my expression conveys how sincerely I mean that.

“Always,” she replies, and after she gives me one last tight hug, we both go to bed.

3

Winston

“Talia is pregnant and has called in sick for the third time this week thanks to morning sickness. Vonetta is graduating in a month and is going to be finding a job with her degree. Marcy can only work days. And I’m freaking flailing, Winston. We need to hire some more wait staff or I’m going to have a freaking heart attack!” Stephanie screeches into the phone, and I pull it away from my ear with a cringe.

“Steph, just breathe. You have my permission to hire as many people as you need. Go forth. I trust you. That’s why I made you my manager,” I tell her, and I hear her sigh of relief.