Don't own anything.
Chapter Three
A week into her new job, Rose had settled into a comfortable, albeit boring, routine. Up by seven, walk to work, arrive a little before eight, when the shop would open. Say hello to Antonella and the other three women she worked with (Rosalia, Teresita and Francisca). An hour for lunch, and home again by six thirty. Sometimes, if Antonella needed to run out for something during the day, Rose would handle the front half of the shop, helping customers and working the cash register (out of Antonella's four employees, Rose was most comfortable working face to face with people). Rose was unaccustomed to having so much alone time, as she didn't have to come in on weekends and the shop closed promptly at six every night (unlike Almaelou there were no opportunities for overtime; then again Madam Lucia's also lacked what had motivated Rose to work overtime in the first place).
One night just before closing when Rose was working up front, a man and a young woman came into the shop. Hmm. Don't see too many male customers in here, Rose thought idly. But the man did not seem interested in shopping.
"Where is Antonella?" he asked in a heavy accent, glancing around as if the shopkeeper might be hiding.
"She ran out to pick up an order of custom accessories. Can I help you?"
"Yes, I-" He narrowed his eyes and looked intently at Rose. "Are you new here?"
Rose frowned slightly. "Yes, I am."
At that moment, the door to the shop tinkled open and Antonella came in carrying half a dozen small boxes that she set down on the counter. The man approached her immediately.
"Antonella, what happened to our agreement?" he asked, gesturing to Rose. "I thought you had promised my little sister a job in your shop when she arrived from Puerto Rico."
"Don't be silly, 'Nardo!" Antonella laughed. "I can always use more help. Of course Maria will still work here; I would not have hired more help if it meant she could not have a place at my shop. Is this the young lady?" she asked, turning to the young woman who had been standing quietly by her brother. Bernardo put a hand on his sister's shoulder as he introduced her to Antonella.
"Yes. This is my sister, Maria."
"Encantada, Maria," Antonella said warmly. "I'm Antonella, and this is Rose."
Maria waved politely and Bernardo gave a slight nod and a smile to the woman behind the counter. Now that the altercation with his sister had been cleared up, it seemed he was far more willing to be friendly to Rose. Meanwhile, Antonella had taken Maria's hand and started leading her toward the back.
"I'll introduce you to the rest of the girls. Rose, you can close up now."
"Sí, señora," Rose called after her, almost cringing as she realized how easily the Spanish words slipped through her lips after trying to suppress that side of her for so long. Rose began taking the smaller displays and the new shipment of adornments off of the counters and stowed them safely in the glass cases. She tried her best to ignore Bernardo, who was watching her intently as she worked.
"I'm Bernardo," he said eventually.
"Rose," Rose replied, not pausing to look at Bernardo.
"Rose...Rosa," Bernardo said, trying out the name. He shook his head.
"What is your middle name?" Rose sighed before turning her attention to the window displays. Bernardo followed.
"It's Anita."
"Anita!" Bernardo crowed. "I like it! A beautiful name..." he said, suddenly taking her hand and raising it to his lips. Rose resisted the urge to snatch her hand away. "...for a beautiful woman."
Rose was saved from Bernardo's affections when Antonella and Maria returned from the back room. Bernardo took his sister's arm to escort her from the shop.
"Eight o'clock, Maria!" Antonella reminded her newest employee.
"Por supuesto!" Maria said. "Buenas noches, Antonella."
"Buenas noches, Anita!" Bernardo called. The door closed behind them, making the bell tinkle again. Rose felt her face go red and tried not to groan aloud.
"Anita?" Antonella said. "What was that all about?"
"I told him Anita is my middle name," Rose admitted. "It seems he prefers that over Rose."
Antonella laughed. "That's Bernardo for you! Such a sweet boy. And his sister seems promising as well. Anita is a nice name," she added after a pause.
Rose smiled hesitantly and flipped over the 'OPEN/ABIERTO' sign. There. Now the shop was closed.
"Buenas noches, Antonella," Rose said on her way out the door.
"Buenas noches, Anita!" Antonella said, laughing.
The door closed behind her and Rose began her long walk home. Anita isn't a bad name, she thought. Maybe a new name will help me get used to having a fresh start, help me forget...everything before.
Albert stood in front of the high school, briefcase in hand. Working up the courage to go inside. He couldn't remember the last time he had to go to a job interview. It must have been just after college, before he started Almaelou. Come on, Albert, he thought. This is the last step before you'll be ready to start your new life. Without Rosie, his mind added. Albert pushed the thought away. He had already sold Almaelou (he was surprised by how well his employees took the news; he later found out that they had made bets on how many years past Rose's one-year deadline Almaelou would finally be sold). Albert used the money from the company's sale to purchase a small apartment many blocks away from his mother's. Granted, the neighborhood wasn't as nice...but it was all Albert could afford. Now all he had to do was get a job and he could cut all ties to his old life. Most of them anyway. There was still a small part of him that insisted that, despite how many different opportunities for work there may be in New York, he should try to find a job teaching English. And he couldn't bring himself to get rid of the picture of Rose he kept in his wallet (he could still remember the day Rose gave it to him; she said it was a reminder that she existed outside of the offices of Almaelou and it was perfectly acceptable to spend time together outside of work, because after all, they were a couple).
Albert glanced at his watch and groaned. If he didn't go in now, he'd be late for the interview.
I suppose it's now or never, he thought. So with a deep breath, he walked through the doors. He found the main office easily enough.
"If you're looking for Principal Lopez, she's in her office. You can go right in," the secretary said without looking up from her desk.
"Thank you," Albert said. The secretary didn't reply.
When Albert entered the principal's office, her head snapped up at the sound of the door and she smiled in a tired, relieved sort of way when she saw Albert coming in.
"Mr. Peterson, right? You're here to fill the English position?"
"Yes. I can't tell you how glad I was to see the teaching position available."
"And we are glad to have you."
"I have to say," Albert began hesitantly, "I was surprised you're not looking for someone with any sort of... degree, or teaching certificate."
Principal Lopez smiled weakly. "We're desperate, Mr. Peterson. Our students can be...trying at times. And we're not located in the best of neighborhoods...we don't get much money from the city, as I'm sure you can guess. We can afford to be pickier for the maths and sciences, but when it comes to subjects like the arts and English, we take whoever we can get. I don't mean to belittle your subject-"
"Not at all! Really, I'm grateful for the opportunity to teach," Albert insisted.
"Well, we won't be asking for very much from you, Mr. Peterson. Usually we suggest that students read two to three pieces of literature each school year, along with some poetry and maybe a play if you can work it in. Things like grammar and formal writing should be reviewed whenever you can. I'm afraid your choice of books is quite small; our school library isn't all that expansive. Of course, if you can get your hands on enough copies of another book you'd like to teach you're certainly welcome to do so.
"I think that may be everything, unless you have any questions..."
"Well...can you tell me how many students I'll be teaching?"
"Oh! Of course. There are four English classes for you to cover, and we expect each to have about thirty students. Classes start at 7:30 each morning and school lets out at two. So, Mr. Peterson...will you take the job?"
Albert raised his eyebrows. "That- that's it?" he asked, a little incredulous. "We've hardly spoken five minutes..."
Principal Lopez smiled sadly again. "Like I said," she said spreading her hands, "we're desperate. We'll have someone sit in on your first week of classes to see if there's any feedback we can give you, but I already feel confident that you'll try your hardest with our students."
Albert exhaled shakily and sat up a little straighter. "All right. I'll take the job."
Principal Lopez smiled, warmly this time, and reached out to shake Albert's hand. "Thank you, Mr. Peterson. I was beginning to worry I wouldn't be able to fill the position before school started."
Albert took her hand and smiled right back at his new boss. "Thank you, Ms. Lopez. I can't wait to get started."
As Albert walked out of the school with a spring in his step, he paused to take out his wallet. He smiled sadly at the slightly crumpled picture that stared back at him.
"I'm doing it for you, Rosie," he whispered.
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