Struggling to Survive Pt. 01

The silence that ensued was eerie. Mouths sat agape as they all stared at me in disbelief. Dare I mock God?

My boss, whose full name was James Worthy, looked like a deflated balloon. The bravado that immersed his persona had disappeared. A hurt little boy looked at me from behind pitiful eyes. That lasted all of two seconds. That look vanished, and his face grew red with anger. I saw him getting ready to spout off at the mouth, and I decided that I wasn't going to sit by and be a target. I was certainly about to be fired, so I jumped in before he could launch into his tirade.

In for a penny...

"You know what James? I don't think I want to work for you anymore. I've only been here for six months, but somehow you have the ability to stretch the very fabric of time. I feel like I should be drawing pension by now. So I will leave you...gentlemen...to your lunch. I have to go get my personal things from my office. And in case I'm not making myself clear...I QUIT!"

With that I made my dramatic exit. Back straight, head high, and my purse under my arm, I strode out of there with big steps like the confident woman that I was.

Until I reached my car. Then I broke down in loud sobs. My God! What the hell did I just do?

Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!

I just walked out of my job. How could I do that? Given the circumstances surrounding my return to the work force, you would think that I would be hesitant about doing something as impulsive and monumentally stupid as storming out of a job that paid decent money.

Tom and I had been married for 5 years when he lost his job. He was an architect for a company that did private contracting. He'd been a loyal employee at that company for 10 years, and over that time he'd been promoted 4 times. Our lifestyle appeared to be safe.

When things appear to be set in stone like that, you tend to get lazy. You start to take things for granted. Luxuries become necessities. GPS, heated seating, and XM radio in brand new cars that you only plan to keep for 3 years are the norm. Cable TV that include the sports package and every premium channel are a necessity. Buying the kid's multiple pairs of shoes that cost $100+ just so they could walk around the house is only natural. Who cares if they don't play basketball?

You don't think of these splurges as temporary conveniences. They aren't blessings. They are just a part of life. That is until you lose them.

Our reality broke when Tom's company was bought out by a larger company. As things go when a company buys a smaller one, they bring in their own management team. Remember, Tom had been promoted 4 times. So my husband was one of the first to go. The new company combined three positions into one. They released Tom, as well as two others, and filled the spot with one person whom they paid half the money. My husband, who had been a faithful employee for 10 years was put out to pasture like a lame horse. 10 years! Barely called in sick. Never late. Always willing to work overtime. Completely expendable.

They did have the decency to give him a severance package. But that life raft was quickly taking on water. At first we didn't panic. A person with Tom's experience should have no problem finding work. We figured one month, two tops, he'd be back in the loving arms of employment and pulling in a substantial paycheck.

The problem was that Tom was TOO qualified, and yet not qualified enough. Tom's job promoted him so many times because he was important to THEM. But his actual qualifications, at least on paper, weren't enough to get him a job that was paying what we were used to getting paid. On the other hand, jobs that he was qualified for (on paper) were reluctant to hire him because of his work experience. They felt that he would do the job with one foot out of the door. It was a catch 22. This has been his song and dance for a year now.

We decided that I should also try my hand in getting back into the work force. I'd been a housewife for a little over five years. I went on maternity leave to have our son, Sam. When Same was born, we both decided that I shouldn't return to work. Tom made enough to support us. I know that independent women everywhere are throwing their hands up and saying, "Hell No! Don't depend on any man to take care of you!" Well, if they had the life that I had, they would be glad to take a break. And I was.

I'll admit that when it was time for me to dust off the old resume, I was a little disappointed. I enjoyed being available to my kids whenever they needed me. I loved being a mom. But I wasn't going to let my family starve. So I put my big girl panties on and got to work.

Irony sure is funny. I found a job within the first couple of months looking. Secretarial work was apparently easier to come by. An old friend of mine heard of a guy who needed an assistant ASAP. It seemed like Kismet, so I jumped on it.

I did find it odd that this job suddenly became available. My friend said that the secretary that I replaced just up and quit one day. Out of nowhere. At the time I thought that her loss was my gain. I only half listened to my friend's carefully worded warnings about "watching my back" with this guy. My friend told me that he "can be a bit of an asshole". It went in one ear and out of the other.

I guess the joke was on me. Irony can be funny. I find myself doing the EXACT same thing that the secretary I replaced did. At least I solved the mystery of why she suddenly quit. Like her, I let my fucking temper get the best of me.

Tom always tells me to control myself. Looks like he gets to say I told you so. I'll bet that will make his day!

I mentally prepared myself to stroll into the office like I had everything under control. They may be on their way back from the restaurant by now. If I wasn't cleared out by the time they got there, I would have to face them. I was not about to let those fucking idiots see me distressed. Nor will I give my haughty ass boss the satisfaction of having me apologize and beg him to let me keep my job.

As I predicted, I barely beat them back to the office. My coworkers pretended to be indifferent to me as I silently packed my things, but I could feel their eyes on me. It was like they were seeing just how far I was going to carry on with this silly charade. My boss just huffed past me, went into his office, and slammed the door shut. Like a petulant teenager throwing a temper tantrum.

Couldn't beg for my job back if I wanted to. Not that I was. But still...

As I put the last picture of my son in my box, I almost lost it. But pride would not let the tears fall. No way was I going to let them see me shed them.

Once in my car, I started the drive home. During that 15-minute trip, the weight of my situation began to descend on me even more. The closer I got to my house, the gloomier my reality became. Just that morning I leafed through a stack of bills that I was planning on paying with my next check. Now my next check would be my final check.

My house. My car. The electricity. The water. Bills, bills, bills.

My husband. My sons. I let all of them down.

What was I going to do? What were WE going to do? Dammit Kara!

***

PRESENT TIME

I threw myself on the bed and cried. To have my husband break me down like that was crushing.

Why does he have to be such an asshole about everything? Why? How could he purposely hurt me like that? Why can't he just support me? When did he become such an asshole?

He knew my past. He was also well aware about how much I loathed it. I had never felt close enough to anyone to tell them that about me. He was the only person I had ever shared that with. How could he bring that up to hurt me? After he promised me that it would never cause a problem between us.

Disgusting men making lustful appraisals of my body always set me off. When it happened, I felt like I was up on that stage all over again. The whistles, the cat calls, the drooling assholes with octopus hands. All of it made me angry.

Why would he expect me to just sit there and smile and take it? I had enough of that shit to last a lifetime. I took it from those drunken assholes that ordered lap dances and made me grind on their erections like a bitch in heat. I dealt with the disrespect from those bitches at Sal's Gentlemen's Lounge when they taunted me and picked on me. I left that shithole and promised myself that I would never let another person treat me any less than a human being. Never. I am not Jazmin anymore Goddamit!

Still, here we were with no way to pay the steadily increasing pile of debt. Yeah, I got to keep my pride. I got to insult the bastard of a boss and walk out of there with my head held high. But at what cost? Dean and Sam can't eat pride. They can't use it to do their homework when it's dark outside. That pride won't stop them from being cold when it's raining.

Tom's right. I let my anger get the best of me. If I was thinking, I would have filed a complaint. Damn my fucking temper!

Also, if I was being honest with myself, I did hit him below the belt with my comment about him not being able to find a job. I knew it would hurt him when I did it. But when he called me dumb, I saw red.

When did we become these people? People who lash out at each other when things go wrong. We should be leaning on each other. We're supposed to be partners.

There was a time when we talked about things. When he first lost his job, I held him as he cried. I rubbed his back and told him it would be okay. We would get through it. Together. Like husband and wife should.

He did the same for me once upon a time. The day that I confessed to Tom about my past was the scariest day to date. He had just proposed to me. Instead of saying yes, I broke down in uncontrollable sobbing. That's when I told him about Jazmin. I just knew that he would leave me and call me a whore. Only, he didn't.

So many wonderful memories. But look at us now. I barely know him anymore.

*********************************

TOM

Kara had no right bringing up the fact that I can't find a job! That was low!

I sat on the couch fuming. My mind kept replaying her words over and over in an endless loop. The way she emasculated me was brutal.

WELL, MAYBE IF MY HUSBAND WAS ABLE TO TAKE CARE OF HIS FAMILY I WOULDN'T HAVE TO BE OUT THERE IN THE FIRST PLACE!

How fucking dare she? She forgets that I was the one bringing home the bacon when she left work to take care of our kids. I was the one who took her, and Dean, in spite of her past. I was there for her when she was giving birth to Sammy. That was me! I never once made her feel shitty about all of the things that I did for her. Now she wants treat me like I am less of a man? Fuck her!

Maybe I was wrong for the cheap shot I threw at her when I called her Jazmin. I know that she is sensitive about her past. I promised to never bring it up. But she hit first. And hard. Her words cut me to the core. When did she lose respect for me?

What's to respect? You are here, at home, while she is out there trying to pay the bills that YOU can't pay. Why would she respect you? If you could find a job, she wouldn't have been forced to one and work for those people in the first place.

Goddammit!

That's the problem with heated arguments. Each person has to one up the other. She hurt me, I hurt her more. Then she retaliated, so I hit her harder. Now both of us were in our corners licking our wounds.

I heard the front door open and close. The heavy footsteps let me know that Dean, my fourteen-year-old stepson, was home from school. I had to clean my face up and put on a brave front. I didn't want him to see me like this. He is a smart kid and he picks up on things like that.

When I first met Kara, Dean was 7. He was a shy kid who didn't speak much. But those eyes saw everything. He always sat back, observing, thinking, figuring out all of the things that people DIDN'T say to him. He has always been able to read between the lines.

Now he is a teenager. A freshman in high school. The changes in him from the boy I once knew to the young man that he is are remarkable. He shot up 3 inches over the summer and did not look like he was done growing. Those eyes still took in everything that happened around him, but he is really coming out of his shy shell. I do believe I've even heard a few female voices calling the house for him.

To say I love that kid would be the understatement of the century. I have watched him grow and have been proud every step of the way. Granted, he is a teenager, and therefore has that inherent asshole gene that most kids his age get. However, his good qualities far outweigh the bad. He is just as much my son as Sam is.

"Hey pops. I saw mom's car out front. She here?"

I still get shocked at how deep his voice has become. It seemed like just yesterday it was a squeak. Now he sounded like Barry White begging for forgiveness.

"Yeah son, she is. She's upstairs. How was school?"

"It was cool. Mrs. Oberman's dog got loose again. I had to stop a car from running over him when I was walking home."

I chuckled at that. "That woman needs to fix that fence so that Pixie can't crawl under it. Everyone in this neighborhood has saved that dog at some time. I swear, that dog is going to be the death of us."

I was trying to appear normal, but Dean was beginning to see through my charade. He looked at me inquisitively for a moment. "You okay pops?"

Nothing gets by this kid.

"Yeah, I'm good. Just frustrated about getting a job. It's tough being a grownup, ya know kiddo?" He nodded his head in agreement as he leaned in and gave me a hug.

"Pops, I know you'll find something. Don't let it get you down."

"I hope so son. I hope so."

"I'll be glad when you do. Then you can relax. Maybe you and mom can stop fighting so much."

That threw me back for a second. I hadn't realized that the strain was that noticeable. Kara and I tried to shield the kids from our problems. The realization that our disagreements had reached our young son's eyes was daunting.

"Do we really fight that much?"

He nodded sadly. Then, without a word he headed for the stairs leaving me in silent contemplation.

Things were quiet for a few hours. Dean was in his room doing God knows what. Kara stayed locked away in our bedroom. Sammy was still over my mom's house. My mom started watching him when Kara decided to go back to work. She picked him up after his kindergarten class was released. My mom said that she felt I should be free to job search without having to worry about taking care of Sam, and she was happy to do it. Truthfully, I think that it was a thinly veiled excuse to get some Grandma time. After much arm twisting (wink, wink) I finally gave in and let her have her way.

My mind replayed my encounters with Kara over the last few months, and I had to agree with Dean. We were fighting more lately. Most of them weren't big blowups like today's, but we were more irritable around each other. The smallest things set us off.

The stress that we were under was palpable. Every one of our conversations were laced with trace amounts of residual tension. We no longer addressed each other in the loving tone that we used to. Lately our conversations were about what bills needed to be paid and what money we didn't have.

How could we have grown so far apart in so short a time?

Kara emerged from the room and came down to start dinner. She didn't acknowledge me at first. I didn't try to engage her either. But there was a moment when we locked eyes. She stopped moving and held my stare.

"Kara...I..." For some reason I couldn't get the words out. Kara looked at me and nodded sadly.

"Yeah Tom. Me too."

I met her in the middle of the kitchen and pulled her in for a hug. She was hesitant at first, but then she returned it by wrapping her arms around my waist and squeezing me. We just sat there like that, completely ignoring the large elephant in the room.

That night, as I lay in bed next to Kara, I thought about our marriage. As I rolled through my memories, reliving the moments that we were snippy with each other. We were definitely taking our frustrations out on each other. I hadn't really noticed the increase until Dean said something.

I had my share of the blame in this debacle. I had been so lost in my world of job hunting that I hadn't taken notice of the decline. When I looked back, I did see how much I was closing myself off from my family. I internalized a lot of my anger and frustration over being helpless to save them. In doing so, these feelings came out in other areas.

Another failure as a man and a husband! What does she see in you?

**********************

KARA: THE NEXT DAY

The early morning sunshine began to peek through the blinds. My husband Tom lay beside me lightly snoring. I envied him at that moment. I hadn't slept a wink all night.

My mind was churning in indecision. Thoughts about my family's current predicament haunted me. Images of my sons' hungry faces flashed in my internal movie.

I looked over at Tom, sleeping so peacefully. How could he sleep so soundly? How is his mind at rest with all that is going on? It's like he could care less about the rest of us. Whether we eat or not does not seem to be keeping him up at night. His unemployment status seems to be an accepted reality now instead of an obstacle to overcome.

In my mind I knew that Tom was looking for work. It wasn't like he was sitting home eating Rocky Road Ice cream and watching Soaps all day. I knew that he really tried. But trying hard and doing EVERYTHING that you can do to get the job done are two different things. Sean Connery in "The Rock" said it best.

Losers whine about their best. Winners go home and fuck the cheerleader.

What winners don't do is pout about not finding work and feel sorry for themselves. They don't retreat into a shell and shut out their family. They certainly don't take out their frustrations on their wives and lash out at them.

Where was the sweet and funny man that I fell in love with? The one that was always encouraging those around him. The one who went out of his way for a coworker and her son. Now I am roommates with a moody, irritable, ornery man who picks fights.

I sighed despondently as I got out of bed and made my way to the shower. I had one mission to accomplish today. Get my job back by all means necessary. No matter how humiliating it would be to crawl back there after my grand exit, I had to try. At least one of the adults in the house has to make sure that everyone gets fed.

***

Two hours later found me in the office of Mr. Worthy, standing in front of his desk with my eyes looking at the floor. I couldn't look him in the face. The knowing smirk that he wore was unbearable. It was taking everything in me not to grab his letter opener and jam it in his throat until he sputtered blood bubbles from his mouth as he tried to breathe.

"So, after your little scene yesterday, you come back here to beg your fat fuck of a boss for your job back. What makes you think I should give it to you? I mean, I could find a secretary anywhere. Why would I take you back?"

I swallowed hard to stop the vomit of insults that threatened to escape. I expected this to be hard, but I didn't think I would have to humble myself to the point of debasement. Like the true arrogant asshat that he was, he was going to take as much pleasure from this as possible. I had to accept that this was a fight that I lost.

"Please Mr. Worthy. I was out of line yesterday. I have a lot going on at home with my husband not having a job, and the bills that have to be paid. I just lost it. I promise that if you take me back you will not regret it."