You got out. My mind kept replaying that mantra over and over. You got out. You got out.

I looked around at the street signs while huddling in the light coat that was separating me from the early morning freeze of a blustery Boston winter, wishing that I had thought to bring a heavier one. My stomach growled with hunger I again felt the familiar pang of regret that I hadn't been able to take any of my belongings with me. I focused my attention on the soft sound of my sneakers on the pavement to try to keep my thoughts focused on the present. I walked for hours until my body was weary, and my eyes started to fill with tears. My body collapsed in a bench on Monument Avenue because suddenly it had all been too overwhelming. I was penniless, homeless, and freezing in an unfamiliar city, but my mind nagged at me again that I made it out of that hellhole.

I focused on controlling my breathing and started naming things in my head like all the good little therapists had suggested. Red stop sign… black fire escape… American flag… pink flowers… restaurant… red help wanted sign… I perked up just the slightest bit since the only real job I'd had was waiting tables. The sign in the window stated they were seeking a waitress and that made me straighten up a bit more. I never had been one to believe in signs, and realizing that this could be yet another cruel mockery of fate in my life, I couldn't bear to hope, but I couldn't afford not to try. I even had a reference I could use from a place I worked at in college. I reasoned with myself as I wiped my face, if anything else, it would get me out of the cold for a while.

My resolve hardened as I made my way across the street and opened the restaurants door. The noise outside was a stark contrast to the quiet inside and the tint on the windows created a dim atmosphere. As my eyes adjusted to the sudden darkness I realized just how out of my depth I was. The restaurant was empty but even so was beautiful and screamed class. I felt myself deflate a bit as even in my prime I don't think I could have afforded to use the restroom here. They wouldn't want me working here. A small sigh escaped my lips as I turned to walk out the door, but an older couple almost collided with me as I did so.

"Is this the new waitress?" The man said turning slightly to face the woman.

"No, she didn't make it through the working interview." The woman replied frowning. "Can we help you, Miss?"

For a moment I couldn't make my brain function enough to speak, but as they stared patiently I managed to work up enough courage to force the words out of my mouth. "I wanted to apply for the waitress position."

I fought the urge to turn around at the sound of a door opening behind me.

"Oh, David, why don't you take her back and I'll meet you there in a moment? Just want to take the new menu back to Ruby." The woman said as she gestures me forward.

David lead me back into a small back room with two chairs and a desk that held stacks of papers like a library helds books. Perched precariously on one of those stacks was a laptop that David grabbed as he sat down. "Well, now you know my name, what's yours?" He said gesturing me to take the other seat.

I took off my coat and hung it on the back of the chair which left me sitting down in a green sweater, jeans, and boots. "My name is Emma." I said hoping he didn't press for a last name.

"Great, Emma, why are you looking for a job?"

"I just got to Boston today and saw the sign in your window as I was passing through. I have years of experience and it seemed like a good fit." I tapped my fingers nervously on the underside of my leg hoping once again there weren't many follow up questions. He asked a few standard interview questions and my answers must have been good enough to keep the interview going.

"We run a tight ship here at The Vine and we try to make sure all of our employees work well together. Why should we hire you? What do you bring to the table?" David said, settling back into his chair.

Desperation? "I've had the pleasure of serving and working with many different types of people. I work well in a team and I know how to manage difficult customers but more importantly when I enjoy my work, I make it an integral part of my life." I don't know how I managed to put that together, but I felt a surge of triumph. All the interview readiness seminars in college paid off in that single moment.

The door creaked open and the woman from earlier came into my view. "How are we doing?" She said carrying two small bowls.

"Doing great back here Mary-Margaret. This is Emma." David replied.

"Hi Emma! You were back here so long I thought I would bring you both some soup. You must believe in the product to be successful here! This is our new white sweet potato soup." Mary-Margaret said.

My heart flipped as my stomach clenched. Even if I didn't get the job at least I would be able to eat. "Thank you very much! I'm excited to try it." We ate in silence for a few minutes, Mary-Margaret glancing over a sheet of paper she grabbed from the desk.

"Well Emma, I think I'd like to move forward with a working interview. When do you think you'd be able to come back?" David said after he took a spoonful of soup.

I thought about it briefly, I had no idea what I was going to do or how I was going to travel here, but being a waitress had its perks – tips are immediate. "Would I be able to come back tonight?"

"That sound wonderful! We don't open for a few hours yet if you want to go home and change? Where do you live?" Mary-Margaret said looking at me.

"I… Um, there was a bit of an issue." Trying to think on my feet, I went with the only situation I could come up with. "So, I'm not really sure. I was going to rent a room but after I got here it fell through. I'm going to figure something out. I wouldn't let it interfere with my work!" I amended hastily, it was close to the truth anyway.

Mary-Margaret looked at me with kind eyes. "You don't have any family to stay with here?"

I flinched away from the word. Family. "No, but I will figure something out. You don't have to worry about me."

"Would you mind waiting in the hall for a moment, dear? I'd like to speak with David. Just for a moment." She said in a soft voice, her smile making her eyes crinkle and showing her age just a bit.

I could have kicked myself for not coming up with a better excuse, but I slowly got up leaving the delicious soup on my chair and left the room. I stood in the hall, straining to make words out of the low muffled voices coming from the office and cursing the fact that I had left my coat in the room. When the soft murmur of voices continued with no signs of stopping, I started to contemplate just leaving my coat. It wasn't much more than a windbreaker anyway and was doing very little to shield me from the cold. I had actually turned for the main door and took a step towards the exit when the door opened again. "Emma, would you mind coming back in here?" David's voice came from the doorway.

I walked back into the small office where Mary-Margaret was leaning against the desk. "Here, eat this while we talk okay?" She said gesturing me to the seat and handing me back my bowl. Once I sat down she continued. "David and I were not always so fortunate, I was actually in a similar predicament to you for a while. We started a company a while back that did very well, but our hearts weren't in it. One day we sold it as we realized it wasn't worth the effort since it didn't make us happy. That's how we got into the restaurant business, that and we got this place for a steal because the old owner had just given up on it. We completely renovated every part of the restaurant and moved into the upstairs apartment to be closer to the operations." The smile on her face grew as she told the story. "However, knowing that sometimes these things don't last we did keep our loft out in Cambridge. There's not much there really, and it's not in the greatest shape since we haven't lived there in quite some time, but the necessities are all there. Even if you don't work out here as a waitress you can buss tables or work as a dishwasher in exchange for rent for a couple of months if you're agreeable to the arrangement."

Tears pricked my eyes. I couldn't believe it, and I didn't believe that it came without strings, but I couldn't say no.

I smiled as my brain repeated its mantra. You got out.