Broken laws

April Vaughan

Wednesday morning looks like any other in our house, my mother getting ready for the day of work and me in my PJs drinking a cup of tea and eating toast with strawberry jam that I have to hide in the back of the refrigerator, so she won't know I've had sugar, again. I sat in the corner chair of my mother's kitchen nook, looking through the wanted pages, I wasn't really looking, simply putting on a farce for my mother. She likes to glace over and observe my job-hunting skills every few minutes and then ask how it was going, in a tone that made mee feel decidedly unloved. Her constant nagging at the wasted potential of my life seemed to drone on in the background, like an endless loop of incoherent noise that made up the static of my life.

Id finished up with the last of my studies and was job hunting for a something in the legal sector I'd gotten my Batchelor of Laws the end of last year and while I was struggling to commit to the role, my mother had not. I still couldn't decide if I wanted to get my postgrad or if I even wanted to spend my life doing a job that I felt was purely for my mother's benefit. However, 3 months in I was still not any closer to fining anything that my mother deemed acceptable regardless of my multiple failed interviews, potentially sabotaged was a better way to phrase them though I'd never tell her that.

For the third time this week, she had given me the newspaper with the wanted section full of circled ads. For the fifth time the same position had been highlighted in bold red, I looked over at her "mom what Is this why the persistence with this Richards and Associates, I thought you wanted me to put my degree to good use this is a simple Secretary position and has nothing to do with my degree or even practicing law. I'd be getting coffee or handling some old dudes' calendar, making sure his wife and his mistress are on separate rotations." I chuckled to myself at the last cliche statement.

Moms harsh reply came quickly "April, as you are well aware we haven't seen a good job in the law sector in weeks and the last interview you did, let's be honest we both know, you blew it. So how about showing some appreciation for the fact that I'm helping you find a goddamn job." The harsh tone she used always made me feel like a child being scolded. I hadn't seen the need to push the subject as this was all she ever had ever wanted. For as long as I could remember we had been preparing for law school getting good grades avoiding all temptation that leaned to a normal life, my mother, though I loved her was a hard woman, and pleasing her was difficult to say the least. It had always just been us two when I was old enough to ask about my father. I only got the chance to ask once, the look of both disgust and hatred that my mother gave me that day had haunted me, finally understanding the reason she was so hard on me having a child with someone you despised do much couldn't of been easy plus the lecture that followed my innocent question went on for what seemed like days and that was the only reminder I would ever need to know that some questions are better left unanswered.

I knew better than to ask again even though the question still bothered me, apart from the obvious childlike longing for a second parental figure and a deep need to understand myself. There were more obvious differences that caused more issues as I got older the largest problem was my looks; I hit puberty and the slim figure I'd always gotten compliments on from my mother changed in what felt like no time at all. My hips ballooned almost as much as my breasts and my body got unpleasantly soft no matter how much we dieted, I saw almost no similarities between my mother's hard beautiful features and my softer simple ones. My mother was all cut glass and sharp angles and sort of heroin chic she looked like she came straight out of a magazine from the 90s even as she aged, she seemed to grow more regal and only now that she was reaching 55 did she start to look a little worn out like leather shoes roughing around the edges, her bad habits of smoking and drinking showing that it wouldn't be a bad idea if she started taking care of herself. But she still had beautiful features green eyes that would make you look twice and hair so blond you'd swear she dyed it every week things she said you needed to catch a man, compared to my mousey brown hair and dull eyes I could see the disappointment she had in my appearance as a failure to erase my father's obviously stronger genetics.

Accepting defeat, I folded the newspaper in half with the application on top, whipping out my laptop. I started typing the web address and clicked enter. I filled in the long somewhat repetitious information the company required then added my resume to the attachments tab at the bottom wondering, not for the first time if they even bothered to look at my resume as it was word for word a copy of all the information I was asked to provide. I looked up at my mom as she drank her cup of coffee and took a drag of her cigarette in front of me. She looked satisfied that I'd done what she asked but still managed to look unhappy that I was not immediately hounded down by the company to start the job.

She tapped her cigarette into the sink and said "Remember to wear the white shirt I bought you two weeks ago. It sends the right message". As she turned away and left me to finish my tea. 'Easy' that's the message that shirt sent with a neckline that looked like it was meant to button up but the fabric had been cut and sewn in a way to make that impossible. It's like she picked it out specifically to show off the one thing she deemed an asset and a hinderance, my rather large chest. Getting a job simply because I looked easy didn't seem like a job I should be happy to get, plus my job at the convenience store was like home even if it wasn't always the easiest.

I loved my job and the people I got to work with every day, I wasn't going to lie working with eddy and the guys felt like the only thing in my life truly mine. I'd gotten the job 4 years ago I had been near begging on my knees by the time my mother caved into the request to allow me to get a casual job to buy myself a few luxuries and not have to ask for every penny to do things, money was one of the ways mom had control over my life.

But after the reluctance, she had shown in allowing me to get a job she had driven me to every shift and had been there to pick me up making sure I was aware of the fact that I still needed her. She had only in the last year let me walk to and from the train station as she was working more shifts at the hospital to help keep on top of bills. The reason I loved my job was because of the few friends I had managed to make throughout my short life most had been in this convenience store my best friend Archie and his boyfriend Josh were the closest thing to family I had ever experienced. They loved me and I loved them.

Not that it had started that easily my mother had been appalled the first time I'd asked if Archie could come over, thinking that I was getting involved with a boy nearly made her lose it, but when I'd calmed her down and Archie had arrived outside she had seen josh lean over and kiss him all anger had dissipated in her face and she seemed content for me and Archie to spend as many hours as I wanted, together. Not that it was all sunshine and roses, Archie and I had gotten into it a few times over what he called the dragons' behavior thinking my mother was as unfriendly and as unloving as a serpent, and I have to admit the more he pointed it out the more noticeable it became.

I finished my tea remembering and laughing at what Archie would always say about her control over my life "why?" his normal response to my life "why? can't you just keep working at the clutch", his cute nickname for the store, "it's nice and quiet, people love you, and you love the people!" I giggled again " why? you don't need the money I've never seen you spend a cent, and I know you got sponsored for most of your degree, so you have enough saved I'm sure to buy a house outright or close enough!" I giggled again surprisingly he never let me answer the questions he asked knowing all the answers instinctively and the reply he knew made no sense "because we want this" or "because we've worked so hard, not to do better" the one time I answered more to myself than anything, he had heard " because she won't let me do anything else" we'd had a fight over that one he was perplexed at my inability to cut my mother out and follow my own path, never understanding that she was all I had and her happiness always came before my own.

I continued scanning the newspaper content that I wouldn't have to apply for any more jobs now that she had left the kitchen. Hopefully, I was one of hundreds of interested candidates and they wouldn't even get around to sending the "unfortunately" email that I was so used to getting. Just as I was about to close my laptop when a notification came through "crap" I muttered to myself as I opened the email tab in my browser and there it was from a Rose Thornton, a name given with little thought of the poor child's life of teasing.

Miss Vaughan

We are pleased to inform you that a first interview has been approved and scheduled for tomorrow at 1:10 p.m. please be prompt to bring a copy of your ID and your resume.

The rest of the email went on to give the location as well as a few generic bits of information regarding dress code and a quick note on no possible rescheduling. This was the kind of job you made time for not the other way around clearly they had heaps of interest and they didn't need you, you needed them, maybe mom was right, maybe this was exactly the way in that would make her feel like I had started on the right path.

The rest of the afternoon was a bit of a blur I'd told my mom I'd gotten an interview and it was for tomorrow afternoon she had asked if I could reschedule the moment I'd told her it was at 13:10 she had work until 15:00 and she knew right then she had no control over my appearance and attendance to the interview, she couldn't afford to give up the overtime shift that tomorrow would be, with bills due next week and stubborn pride that wouldn't allow me to help, she needed the money and wasn't prepared to stay home to dress me and doll me to her liking. She looked me over "I'll lay out your clothes before I leave and I'll get you from the train station when you get home, remember to look decent this time.

The next morning I woke up To my alarm at 9 o'clock. The day was slightly cold but as it wasn't yet autumn I probably wouldn't need that sweater I was going to wear To cover up the monstrosity of a shirt my mother was making me wear. I hopped in the shower and did my make up. I went a little easy on the eyes and put a dark red lipstick on. I wasn't going to let my mother see me this way. To be honest, I was simply going to add more makeup after the interview, that way when she picked me up from the train station, she would approve of my look.

I considered again wearing my sweater, I didn't feel comfortable going out with so much cleavage exposed but in my haste to get out the door I decided I'd just wear it maybe with any luck it would be the reason I didn't get the job, who could honestly think this was appropriate for work. I took the three-minute walk to the train station and the first train that arrived was carrying the lunch crowd. I didn't think squeezing in with all those people was a good idea I looked up at the timer and realised the next train will arrive in four minutes this might be cutting it a bit close but as I decided this was probably the easiest way and I wasn't gonna risk wrinkling my outfit, I simply sat down on the nearest chair and waited for the next train.6 minutes later I checked my watch "When will this crappy train arrive?" I thought to myself, never a dull moment with the people that busied themselves constantly checking their watches equally annoyed at the lateness of the train "it's only 2 minutes, it's fine I've got time "crap why hadn't I taken the earlier train I know it was full but I was sorely regretting not pushing myself up against the nearest stranger and just hoping my butt wouldn't get caught in the doors. I've never been a fan of public transport simply because I dislike people. I preferred my own space, sharing didn't come naturally to me and I immensely disliked being ogled more often than not by middle-aged men with receding hairlines and beer bellies.

To be honest, it wasn't all men, some men I enjoyed being looked at by. I wasn't unattractive per se, just plain would be a good way to describe myself but sometimes even that felt a bit of a stretch. My mother had always known how to point out my flaws and compared to her regal beauty I could see how I paled in comparison. 2 minutes later "Finally" I huffed as the train pulled in. With any luck I will be there by 1 o'clock, I held my breath as I realised that would be almost a jog from the train station I would have to power walk like the wind it's amazing how a simple 4-minute delay had changed a simple walk into a full-blown marathon in heels I couldn't afford to miss this interview.

The door dinged and I stepped off the train I realised there's no way I'm gonna make it to that interview, how was I going to get there. I could call an Uber but I have a feeling I have to wait the 10 minutes It would take to just walk the distance and save the $15. I got to walking, with any luck I would only two minutes late for the interview.

I knew being late would set a bad first example so I set off at a near jog. Fifteen minutes later the building came into view I came to the elevator and realised I didn't remember the floor I whipped out my phone and clicked on the email the 33rd floor, wait that was the top floor maybe this interview was more important then I'd realised. I got in the elevator and pushed the button, the doors closed and I was off. I hadn't had time to realise how nervous I was my last interview was probably six weeks ago but even though I've been to more than 20 interviews they all made me nervous maybe it was my mother's stern gaze in the background that made it feel more important like she'd be disappointed if I didn't get this job.

I straightened my skirt to make sure my collar was down and stepped off the elevator. There was no one there except the Secretary. My heart sank. The interviews hadn't run late. I was 4 minutes late heaven be this was going to be hard to explain. I looked at the elderly Secretary and smiled. I walked over and kindly explained that my train was running late. She looked at me kind of dissatisfied with my answer.

"Young lady it is simply not good enough to be late Mr Richards has completed his interviews for the day he has a very busy schedule and no time to squeeze you in now the time of your interview was 13:10" I put my most sincere smile on and said. "Please I didn't mean to be late, I tried to be here on time the train ran two minutes late and then there was no time to catch an Uber I had to walk from the train station, I know that's not a good excuse and I know I'm late but if Mr Richards wouldn't mind I'd love an opportunity to do the interview"

She got up and said "give me a moment I'll see if he will see you"She returned "he simply won't do it, sweetheart. It's been a very long day with so many interviews he has had a very busy morning and he will have a full afternoon and doesn't want to bother with the interview any more"

From her tone, I could tell this was not the first time she'd turned down a late interview I looked at it one more time and said "I'm sorry if there is anything you could do I really need this interview ? " I looked up at her pleading. She smiled at me sweetly and said "just hold on a minute" I waited patiently at her desk as she got up a second time and went back into the office.