Chapter 7 - The Interview.
Sleep didn't happen. It didn't matter how heavy her eyes began to droop, her brain refused to cease buzzing, cycling through a montage of self deprecation.
There is no way she is going to get this job tomorrow.
Why would they want to hire her given her past? Clearly she is weak and unworthy, for God's sakes she has been homeless for three years, barely a person, bankrupt and part of the city scum.
Why would anyone give her the time of day?
It's been years, surely there are more qualified and competent people than her vying for this position.
What happens if they ask for her driver's license? It hasn't come in the mail yet. Who would even believe someone who can't prove who they are? Granted she finally got her social security card...at least that is something.
Over and over and over again the sour questions clawed through her as the hours ticked by. Twice she got up, debating having another shower, but the water in this motel smells horridly stale- she's already going to look like hell, why make it worse, right?
It's four thirty am, she's been sitting in the hard wooden chair by the window for a good fifty two minutes, not that she's counted, staring out into the street. Her eyes settle on a man, old and gray, slumped against a concrete wall asleep, unaware of the fact that his half drunk bottle of whiskey and change cup just got looted. She winces seeing the thief sneak away, her heart aching for the older man but such is life on the streets.
You steal to survive and beg for spare change, hoping that those who pass by will take pity rather than snear with disdain, it's the sad stereotyping of the homeless, the whole notion that It could never happen to me, I would never end up like that.
To everyone who lives in lovely warm homes will full bellies, those who are sleeping on the sidewalk, huddled under blankets beneath a bridge or in makeshift cardboard shelters have obviously done it to themselves. Every single one of them.
They have some sort of addiction be it heroin or alcohol or whatnot that has landed them where they are. Why give money to someone who is just going to use it to get high? It's simply being lazy and choosing to live that way.
It had to be a poor upbringing, uneducated people that can't hold a job, who are terrible with money and have squandered it all away in gambling. Even the women, clearly prostituting their bodies is easier than trying to get actual work.
Homeless people are dangerous, will mug you and steal everything from your pockets should you even speak to them. Perhaps it's untreated mental illness, that has to be a reason why someone would choose to live in such squalor. They don't understand like the "contributing members of society" do.
It's a constant slew of whispers mixed with the avoidance of eye contact, shuffled quickly away as though homelessness is some sort of contagious virus. It is so easy to seperate yourself from a population if you decide to not acknowledge them, if they are invisible then they are easy to ignore. It's how Regina began to understand life on the streets; You've done this to yourself, you are invisible and you do not matter.
The thing is, for three years she was a part of that world and it wasn't at all like people believe. In fact, most of the people she'd met whilst living on the street weren't forced into the streets from alcoholism, drug addiction, or being uneducated. A lot of it came down to circumstance just like her. Illness that lead to medical bills piling up beyond insurance and income, veterans that can't afford housing with the minimal government cheques, a marriage that ended, leaving one spouse with a mortgage to pay and a lost income that ended in the house being repossessed, or people fleeing domestic abuse with nothing.
There is a lot more to a homeless person's story than most people are willing to listen to.
She swallows heavily, curling the cotton blanket around her as she glances back at the clock, 5:08am blinking back. She's supposed to wake up in twenty two minutes and yet here she sits, staring out the window at a life she is terrified of falling back into. There are things that happened in those three years she never ever wants to relive. It's was not easy, being alone, fending and fighting her herself, making decisions in order to survive, choices she never thought she'd have to endure, but never the less they kept her alive.
The fear is palpable in her stomach. A hot rolling sick feeling that if this interview doesn't work out, if she doesn't get this job... well her last sixty four dollars isn't going to sustain her for very long, and she downright refuses to sink down to the level the motel manager suggested could be her room payment. She won't do that, not again.
Daniel would be heartbroken if he knew and shame would surely kill her with one look of his green hazel eyes. It has never ceased to amaze her how quickly life can be ripped apart. One day she is happily married with a toddler, the next she's lost both her husband and baby and is living inside the concrete subway system with rodents. Her nerves skitter at the thought and perhaps waiting for the clock to hit five thirty is only allowing her more time to let panic set in. Turning away from the window, she glances one last time at the homeless man, still asleep, and blows out a breath, padding over to the bathroom.
The green hazed light flickers on and what stares back at her engulfs Regina in embarrassment. She looks like hell. Deep set purple bags under her eyes, a paleness in her cheeks, chapped lips and stringy straw hair that her mother would surely have a heart attack over.
Rose Haven Women's center was kind enough to give her a bottle of foundation, which doesn't exactly match her skin tone but it's better than nothing, a tube of mascara and one tube of pale red lipstick. It's not much, but it hopefully will make her presentable enough that this firm won't immediately snicker and send her on her way. Granted makeup can't hide nerves. As she brushes her teeth, half of her wishes that a shot of vodka would go a long way to calm her down right now.
Dressing is fast - a black skirt, burgundy button up and a pair of black heels the Women's shelter gave her as part of their interview program. She glides on a quick pass of lipstick and glances at the clock, it's nearly six and it will take her thirty minutes to get to the lawyer's office, she has enough time to grab a coffee on her way. All though that would cost at least three dollars, eating up a fifth of her daily allowed spending, and a train ticket is four bucks, meaning she'll only have three dollars left for food. Coffee will have to wait till another time.
She opens the fridge door, reaching for the roll of sixty dollars in the back and thumbs out two five dollar bills, tucks them into her bag and clicks Daniel's watch around her wrist. She smiles down at the gold face, picturing his instead for a long quiet moment. The ache of missing him knocks hard against her chest. Hopefully today will work out and she can have something that would have made him proud. She grabs her room key, blows out a shaky breath and heads out towards the train, her hands shaking the entire time.
The moment she walks through the glass doors and into the waiting room her heart sinks. Six people are already there, all dressed pristinely, unwrinkled and sharply tailored. Six people that all glance up at her for a moment, taking in their competition as she sits quietly down in a corner chair. Tears flush her eyes as she watches them unclick beautiful briefcases, pulling out thick filled resume papers. She stares down at her own, two measly sheets that surely pale in comparison. The bold lettering of her name glares back at her, goading her into believing that she is enough. There isn't even an address underneath, she doesn't have one and the mortification over the idea of putting the motel or even the Women's shelter address was far to great.
She shouldn't be here. She's not going to be hired. It's going to be humiliating having to explain why there is a four year gap in her work. It was foolish of her to even think they wouldn't question it.
Time ticks by as her nerves build with every person that walks into the far office door, each taking a good half hour before they exit with a smile and handshake from a shorter man who gives a curt nod before asking the secretary to send the next one in. Her fingers fiddle with Daniel's watch as she waits and waits and waits. The smirk one of the other men vying for the position gave her as he exited was nearly enough to have her running out of the office.
"Regina Mills?"
She swallows and stands on shaky knees as the young receptionist smiles brightly and gestures for her to follow.
Three people are seated on the other side, two chatting amongst themselves, the older gentleman in leaning against a black cane as a younger man thumbs through what Regina can only assume is a resumé of another. What stops her in her tracks is the woman that turns around in her chair.
It's the lady from the bakery. The one who gave Regina a muffin for free more times than she'd like to admit. A woman who has steely blue eyes and silver grey curls. She is so screwed. There is no way she's getting hired when one of her bosses knows about her past. Bile climbs into her throat as she takes a seat across from them, avoiding the curious gaze of the older woman.
This was such a mistake.
"Ms Mills, thank you for coming in. I'm August Booth, this is Royce Gold, one of the firms partners, and to my right here is Matilda Lucas, who is an owner in the firm."
"Technically it's my husband's now, but he is otherwise indisposed right now." Matilda huffs, "He and I started the firm fifteen years ago, but I've since opened up my own business." Her gaze plants on Regina who shifts uncomfortably across the table. "Law was never my true calling anyway."
August chuckles, "Well you do make a mean cranberry scone, I'll give you that." He reaches for Regina's resumé laying on the table, scans it quickly before passing it to Royce who barely acknowledges the pitiful thing. His gaze is unnerving, dark and seedy as he roams over her. A thought passes in her mind that he probably makes a great lawyer given the fact he could scare the shit out of anyone with a simple disdainful look.
"Now Regina, tell us a bit about yourself."
She swallows against the lump in her throat, this is it. Forcing down the thrashing of her heart, she folds her hands in her lap, fingers curling around Daniel's watch, a quiet prayer filtering up to the heavens where he rests to please give me strength, I need you right now to help me through this.
"I am just getting back into the workplace; it's been a while for me to be honest. I worked as a Law professor at Willamette in Salem for about six years on a tenure track. Prior to that I was with Nolan & Hopper as an attorney for four years after I graduated from the University of Southern California's Law program."
"Nolan & Hopper has since disbanded, am I right?" Royce cocks a high brow at her. "I heard something around malpractice."
Regina shrugs innocently, "I don't honestly know, I left before any of that happened."
"So you got out just in time then?" He presses.
"The attorney's that I worked with there were incredible." She raises her own brow back. "I can't imagine it being something along the lines you are insinuating."
"Yes, well, everyone has a secret now don't they." Royce sneers darkly to himself with a hard stare at Regina. Clearly he doesn't like a conversation where he doesn't win. Though perhaps being rather blunt to a potential employer isn't exactly going to win her brownie points.
August grins at Regina's tenacity towards Gold, "You definitely have a solid background."
Regina breathes out shakily, turning her back towards him, perhaps this won't be so bad if she just doesn't speak to Mr. Gold. "Though I see that you haven't worked for about nine years, may I ask why the retraction?"
Oh God.
Her eyes flick over to Matilda who watches her with a careful curiosity, and why she hasn't said anything about Regina's past yet is beyond her, and a very very large part of Regina is grateful for it. But the fact of the matter is there is a significant gap in her work career, and as much as she wants to hide it, she can't. Tears burn the backs of her eyes as she sips on a glass of cold water.
"My husband and I decided to start a family, and I wanted to be at home with my son."
August hums politely, "A stay at home mother, that's the toughest job out there. May I ask how old is your boy is now? Or is there a reason why you feel you are ready to start work again after being at home?"
Home. The word stabs her like a hot knife. She has no home.
Royce stares at her as she attempts to calm her bleeding heart. His eyes scouring her face with a glint of malicious curiosity. "I assume your husband is also on board with this." His eyes flick down to her left hand, "Oh my mistake." He nods towards the vacant spot on her ring finger.
If she could burn on the spot she would.
Selling her wedding ring had been one of the worst days of her entire life. It happened after… after that night, two and a half years into her homelessness. As she sat trembling against the stone wall on the side of the highway after the two men left, she could do nothing but fumble with her diamond ring.
It was all she had left, the only thing aside from his watch that was worth anything. He'd told her once that when Henry was old enough, he'd like to give the watch to their son, like his father passed along to him, and his father before him. The watch had been through war, through the poorest of the Colter's lives and into their flourishment decades later. And though she knew it would be worth more than her ring, there wasn't a chance in hell she'd ever disgrace his memory by selling it.
She cried for weeks after pawning off her wedding ring, but it was her only chance to be able to pay for somewhere safe to sleep for at least a little while, somewhere danger didn't lurk and follow in the shadows.
"Ms. Mills? Are you alright?" August cuts through her frozen memory. He has kind eyes. Daniel had kind eyes too.
She swallows thickly with a short half smile, "I apologize. My husband passed away a few years ago."
August's shoulders sink as he mumbles out condolences, "That must be hard raising your son alone. I can't imagine having to do that."
Her smile falters and she wishes she could disappear on the spot at the way Matilda gazes at her. She knows and still stays quiet though her eyes speak a thousand words.
"So you stayed at home with your son, I assume he is full time in school by now?" Royce interjects, "You must be aware that this job will take you away from him, we work long hours here. We aren't looking to hire someone who isn't willing to put our clients first."
Regina sucks in a tight pained breath, her eyes focusing down to her resumé on the table, "That won't be an issue."
"With a child at home, I can't see how that's possible." Royce's brow raises high. "Unless you have a nanny that takes care of your son I suppose. But it's fact that women who have children don't tend to take on careers that keep them away from their family. It's not in a female's nature," he states sharply.
She doesn't like him. It's decided in this moment, Royce isn't a person she would want to be anything more than a colleague to. Anger flares through her as he sits back smugly in his chair, a pulse of pure heated rage at his insinuation that she wouldn't be a good mother if she wanted to work. Millions of women do it everyday. He's clearly one of those that believes a woman can't do both.
"How can you ensure it won't be an issue, Ms. Mills?"
She sees both August and Matilda move to interject, but her heart lashes out before her mind can soothe it.
"Because my son is dead, Mr. Gold."
The words seethe through her bluntly as she stares hotly back at him.
A silence echoing through the conference room for a few long moments.
And while she may wish that there was some sort of steadiness within her right now, the words flood out, pained anger bursting through her at the seams at the man's utter non-reaction. He just continues to sit there.
"He was diagnosed with leukemia at two. We were in and out of the hospital for years. Twice he went into remission. Daniel, my husband, died on a work trip and I was left alone to take care of my toddler who was dying in my arms. Insurance ran out, I could no longer cover the cost of Henry's medical bills, and he died three weeks after his sixth birthday. I am well aware of the fact that there is a time gap in my work, and my life took a horrible turn. So now that you know why I haven't worked in nearly a decade, do you have any other questions about my private life, or can we get on with this interview about my competency to be a lawyer at this firm, or shall I just leave?"
She is shaking, on the verge of tears she hastily wipes away.
It's over. They aren't going to hire her after that kind of outburst. It's a huge condition of being a lawyer, keeping oneself in check during a battle. There can't be these emotional collapses, it gets in the way of logic and reason. It's what her mother taught her. What her professors taught her. Keep it together, otherwise you'll be run over by someone who can. There is no chance in hell or heaven they are going to assume she can keep her composure now so she might as well walk out.
A phone rings, buzzes twice before Royce excuses himself with one last seedy glance at Regina before exiting the room, the door clicking shut behind him.
Relief pours into her. Royce is nothing but a dark cloud. She's lived enough with her mother who is the exact same to know who he is. People like them have a way of overruling, manipulating and taunting others into bending to their will.
August is the first to break the tense silence. "Regina, I am so sorry for your loss. Truly." She smiles small with a short nod, appreciating the fact that at least someone in this room has a heart to not judge her for her past. Granted it's not her entire past, but it's all she is willing to give them. Her eyes lift up to Matilda's, the grey blue steel shining with tears she too refuses to let fall.
"To be entirely honest Regina, I think you could be a good fit here." August leans across the table.
Her heart stumbles, along side her stunned "Wh-what?"
"You have a very impressive resumé, and clearly you are more than qualified. But what I find I like about you most is your resilience. I don't wish to bring up the sadness in your past, but you are incredibly strong and I am not one to pass up someone who is rebuilding. Lord knows I have done it too."
"Thank you," she squeaks out in disbelief. "And I'm sorry about before."
August's brow furrows, "Never apologize for that. Royce is an ass at the best of times. His tact isn't always the smoothest."
She laughs lightly at that. "It makes him a good lawyer I presume."
"It's made him quite a few enemies along the way." August smirks, "Now back to our interview here. Can you tell me what sort of law you are interested in? In your resumé it says you worked and taught mainly domestic and sexual violence cases, is that where you wish to continue?"
"I think so. I am open to new areas but that is certainly where my experience lays. Does this firm work in that area?"
"We do. Our firm is mainly a criminal defence office which I assume you've worked alongside of and we have a few newer projects coming up that I think you would be a good fit for."
Everything inside her melts into this warm, gooey puddle in her stomach, and for the first time since she walked into this interview, Regina feels almost happy. August asks her questions about the years she spent teaching, what her style in the courtroom used to be, areas she feels she excels in, and those that may need some fine tuning. He doesn't ask about her past, about Henry or Daniel, not even once, and she is grateful to focus on something other than the aching pain of their absence.
She learns that Matilda, who has still remained relatively mute the entire time, started the firm with her husband, Marco, fifteen years ago, a small start up firm that has eventually grown into a sought out high end legal office. They are busy, elbow deep in cases and looking to take on a few state projects, hence the opening for a new attorney.
Marco is out of the country for a few months working on a high profile case in Ireland. It begins to ring bells here and there, the formidable Defence Attorney ,Marco Lucas. He had been on a case two years back that exonerated a man wrongly accused of murder, a nearly impossible feat that soared this firm to the top of Oregon's criminal system. It was all over the newspapers… at least the ones she slept on. Funny how small the world can be.
Matilda decided about four years ago to open her own bakery, something Regina silently already knows but listens intently to anyway, her nerves flickering every time the older woman catches her eyes. Obviously they are going to have to talk about it, right? There is no way she's going to be hired without the full knowledge of her past, at least Regina doubts it. Hopes, but doubts. If anything she almost wants to give thanks to the woman, for keeping her secret currently, and for feeding her for months. There is little question in Regina's mind that had the old bakery woman not been so kind that day as she slid a blueberry muffin over to Regina who fumbled for pennies she didn't have, that it is a high probability Regina wouldn't be sitting here today, starvation and all.
As for August, he joined five years back, had worked on the exoneration case alongside Marco and made partner last year, something that is proudly written through his bright green eyes.
"We have a few more candidates to interview, but I'd like to thank you for coming in, Regina. It was a real pleasure getting to know you."
"I appreciate you taking the time." She stands alongside the pair across the table, reaching out to shake each of their hands with a smile. August comments that he will walk her out and she glances one more time back at Matilda who has a small grin gracing her otherwise poised expression.
Nearing the door, Regina turns once more, thanking August for meeting her.
"Truly Regina, the pleasure was mine. I always like a person who can stand up to Royce." He sends her a wink as he walks down a different hallway, "We'll be in touch."
And that's it. She did it.
The air outside is warm as she steps out, almost fragrant as her lungs inhale freely for the first time. Even if she doesn't get the job, something about leaving this place has her feeling like perhaps she can get her life back together, that someone will accept her and life can finally move forward.
Her stomach grumbles two blocks later, and she thumbs out the last six dollars she has for the day. Well realistically it's two, she still needs to buy a train ticket home. Though she could walk. Granted it's a good nine miles but it's not like she has much else to do. She walks down the sidewalk, takes a right turn and ends up at a pop up cafe. Immediately her eyes scan the menu and her heart sinks. It looks like if she wants to eat something she's going to be making the trip back to the motel on foot.
She startles at the buzzing in her pocket. Quickly she takes it out, smiling down at the green bubble on the screen.
Dad: Hello my darling. I hope you are having a wonderful day. I was hoping perhaps you would join me for dinner Sunday if you are free? I'll make that paella you so love.
She melts over the thought of having dinner again with her father. Being able to simply sit and talk to him is something she never thought she'd have again. It's a beautiful feeling and she'd love nothing more than to see him, says as much in her reply, promising to be at his house around 6 if that is alright with him. Joyful tears flush her eyes as her phone buzzes again, a happy little smiling emoji beaming up at her with his response that he can't wait.
"Can I get you something, Miss?" the barista asks with a warm smile as Regina tucks the phone back into her jacket pocket. "We have spiced pumpkin muffins right now, they are a big hit."
Glancing down, Regina's stomach grumbles. They do look delicious. But they also come with a hefty price tag of $3.25. It's a toss up. Either eat and walk home, or save her feet from having to trek in heels nine miles and just have a coffee and hope the vending machine at the motel has something other than crunchy cheetos. She abhors the violently orange snack. It's not even food. But she's gone without a meal before, she can do it again and pray that there is pretzels.
"Just a black coffee is fine, thank you." She smiles though her heart deflates as her stomach gurgles once more. Handing over the two dollars, she thanks the barista and moves to take a spot at one of the nearby benches. People watching has become a natural thing for her now. Sitting quietly as the bustle goes by. It amazes her that years ago she used to be one of them. Clicking down the sidewalk in fitted clothes and a full wallet, making her way to another work lunch, chatting with Daniel on the phone.
Her memory begins to swirl, it had been a day just like today, the love of her life telling her about some ridiculous client he had to appease, the laughter in his voice. She had sat on a bench just like this, in the middle of a park, her hand resting on the new small curve of her stomach. The doctors appointment had been on her own, there wasn't much need for Daniel to join her for a simple stomach bug, which turned out to be anything but. She was pregnant. After two years of trying, they were finally pregnant. A baby. One she imagined would have Daniel's beautiful eyes and soft brown hair. The moment she told him the line when silent, he asked if he heard her right, that she was actually pregnant. It was real, she promised it and once more the line on the other side went quiet, for only a second before she heard the echo of Daniel's outbursting cry that he was going to be a dad, his wife was pregnant, he was going to be a father, he'd yelled it out in the middle of his office, whooping and hollering in his elation to everyone.
That was a good day. She felt true happiness radiating from her soul.
"May I sit?"
Her run down memory bursts as a pair of grey blue eyes smile curiously down at her.
"Mrs. Lucas. I'm sorry I didn't see you."
"No need to apologize. And please, I prefer Milly. Matilda makes me sound like I'm eighty." The older woman waves Regina's stuttered apology off as she drops down onto the bench. "Spiced Pumpkin muffin?"
Regina's gaze flicks down to a brown paper bag, her jaw watering. "Oh, I'm alright thank you." She lies, not willing to take anything more for free from the woman. Over her glasses Milly cocks a knowing brow before setting the bag into Regina's lap and taking a bite out of her own muffin.
"It's good, needs nutmeg though." She hums, "Perhaps I'll make some for the bakery, perfect it up."
Regina's fingers curl around the brown bag in her lap, a thought crossing her mind that if she only eats half than she can have something later for dinner. "Thank you, for the muffin." Milly nods and lets her gaze wander out into the park, clearly happy to sit and people watch as well.
The moan Regina nearly lets slip as she takes a bite into the muffin is downright embarrassing. It has to be one of the most delicious things she's eaten in the past three years, hands down. It's warm, buttery, soft, and she could nearly cry.
Putting the other half of the muffin away has to be one of the hardest things she's had to do. Perhaps if she gets this job she'll be able to buy a dozen of these muffins on her own someday. A job that the woman beside her gets to decide on, one who knows her past far too intimately in Regina's guilt ridden mind. A flush of nerves spiral through her.
"Can I ask you something?" Regina peers over at Milly who nods, "Why didn't you say anything about... about knowing me during the interview?"
The older woman shrugs, polishes off the last of her muffin and turns to lean into Regina. "I didn't think there was a need. How you and I know each other plays no part in you being a good lawyer for my husband's firm." Her hand finds Regina's arm, squeezing it softly with a warm smile, "Honestly, I was proud."
"Proud?"
"You've clearly gone through more than any person should have to and I'm not one to judge a person's circumstance. But seeing you walk through that door today -" Her blue eyes glaze over with tears, "I was proud of you. It's not easy starting over and everyone has to take that first step."
Any composure Regina had evaporates as a tear rolls down her cheek. "Thank you for everything you did for me."
"I wish I could have done more."
The sentiment reminds Regina of Robin. He had said the exact same thing. A kindness and generosity she isn't deserving of but they offer it to her anyway. In a way Milly Lucas reminds Regina a lot of Robin. It's the way she smiles, the creases beside her eyes, the way it truly feels like she is listening, wanting to listen, not treating Regina like she is unworthy, as though she is a real person.
"You've done more than enough already, Mrs. Lucas. Truly."
"Milly dear, please." The older woman smiles and pats Regina's thigh as she stands. "I have a lunch with my son I need to get to. Enjoy the sunshine."
"You as well."
Milly rights her purse over her shoulder, "You know, I am not supposed to say anything, legality and all that, but I'll see you Monday at work." And with that she turns and heads down the sidewalk leaving Regina's jaw to drop.
Her phone buzzes and tears prickle her eyes at the message on the screen.
Robin Locksley: So were they utter sodding idiots or competent smart people who know a good thing when it walks into the office?
TBC.