He wasn’t lonely, though. He liked this.
Like wasn’t the right word. He was accustomed to this. Well, he used to be. Until Esme came along.
* * *
• • •
On Monday, Esme got an email from Miss Q saying the community college had received her test scores, and her application was under expedited review per her recommendation.
It was really happening. She had a chance of getting a college education and changing her life for good. All on her own merits. Hope grew to gigantic proportions, and that dream of being someone possessed her. She wanted it for herself and for her baby. How wonderful would it be to show Jade what she was capable of by example.
The days after that passed in an anxious haze, where she switched back and forth between extreme confidence and deep despair. She found the contact information for an immigration attorney who could—hopefully—help her bring Jade and her family here during the duration of her studies, but she didn’t call him. She’d only call if she got the scholarship.
On Wednesday, her apron buzzed while she was taking an order, and she knew that was the email. She was too busy to check, but the email hung heavy in the back of her mind as she worked through the lunch rush. As she ran orders back to the kitchen, her blood hummed with excitement. It was a full scholarship, and she was on her way to being Esme in Accounting for real and taking care of her family all by herself. As she carried food trays out to the tables, her heart dropped. It was a rejection, and she was going to go home with little to show for her time here.
Back and forth. Back and forth.
By the time the last customer left, tucking a fantastic twenty-dollar tip under his empty water glass before winking at her, she was all nerves. Instead of pulling her phone out right away, she cleared the tables and wiped them down.
With each swipe of wet dish towel on tabletop, she prepared herself for the upcoming news. If it was good, she was going to call her mom right away, thank Miss Q, and schedule an appointment with the immigration attorney. If it was bad, it was okay. There were good sides to her life back home, and she would keep her eyes open for other opportunities.
But didn’t “Esmeralda Tran, college student” have a nice ring to it? She would be such a good college student. She’d study like she had this summer. She’d earn every scholarship dollar, and later, she’d make something of herself.
When the last table was clean, she pulled her phone out of her apron, sat in her regular booth, and typed her passcode into the phone with trembling fingers. Her inbox contained one new email from the community college with the subject title “Regarding Your Scholarship Application.” The preview of the text read, “Dear Ms. Tran, Your application has been thoroughly reviewed by . . .”
Was that good or not? It could go either way from there.
Her heart raced, blood rushed to her head, and her mouth went dry. She was afraid to open it and read more. Maybe she should . . . delete the email. She’d be in control of her failure then, instead of these people who didn’t know her. They were judging her based on some test scores and a handful of essays she’d written in an afternoon. That wasn’t enough to measure the value of a person.
She cleared that nonsense out of her head and scolded herself for being a coward. She had to look. This could be everything to her, her family, and her girl. After taking a deep breath and sending a prayer to the sky, Buddha, and Jesus, too, she opened the email.
Dear Ms. Tran,
Your application has been thoroughly reviewed by staff at Santa Clara Community College.
Our international student scholarship sees extremely high competition every year and as such can only be awarded to the most exemplary students with proven academic potential.
While we commend you on your performance on the GED exam, after careful review of your application, we regret to tell you we cannot offer you this scholarship. We wish you luck in your future endeavors.
Respectfully,
Santa Clara Community College
She breathed inward. And kept breathing inward. Her eyes blurred over, and her face burned hot, and her lungs threatened to burst. When she exhaled, she lost more than air. She exhaled her dreams and her hopes, and her body crumpled upon itself.
Droplets splashed against the freshly wiped tabletop, and she let them fall. She’d been evaluated, deemed to have little to no worth, and discarded. This kept happening to her. Again and again and again. And she was so tired now. So tired.
How did you change your life when you were trapped like this? Her history didn’t define her. Her origins didn’t define her. At least, they shouldn’t. She could be more, if she had a chance.
But people didn’t see who she was inside. They didn’t know. And she had no way to show them without an opportunity.
The bells on the door jingled, and she looked up in time to see Quân stride to her table. He wore a motorcycle jacket over a designer T-shirt and jeans and dominated the restaurant with his large body and larger presence.
He took one look at her, and his face creased with concern. “Oh hell, what’s wrong?”
He glanced toward the kitchen. “Was it my mom? Did she yell at you? I’ll talk to her.” He headed that way, and she hurried to swipe an arm over her face.
“No, no, it was not Cô.” She took a ragged breath and got to her feet. Pushing a smile onto her lips, she asked, “Want anything? Water? Coffee? Coca-Cola?”