Evans Creek Book 1: Mister Mayor

EIGHT

Photo credit: Altered photo of Jonathan Chase, original credited to Riker Studio.   Can you see his reluctance to be put "out  there"?  I've seen that look enough trying to get my sons to sit still for family pictures so I think this one was taken near the end of the session, because Graham almost looks bored.   

***

Arayna sat in the back-corner booth drinking coffee and nibbling a plate of fries as she pondered the coffee stained letter that sat on the table in front of her. She tucked it into her pocket Saturday morning when she went to see Daddy and then forgot all about it. If that customer hadn't bumped her and dumped his coffee all over her, it might still be forgotten.

Arayna sighed and dipped another fry into the ranch dressing before popping it in her mouth. She stared at the paper and wished it were still tucked away forgotten.

Another fry. Dip. Bite.

Sigh.

Stare.

Dip. Bite. Sip.

Stare.

No matter how long she pondered the answer always came out the same. She needed another job. She rolled her shoulders and let out a long and tired breath.

Her two waitressing jobs tied up the evenings and weekends. A third job would have to be something in the mornings. Nine to noon should leave her with a few hours to sleep before her shift at the diner and there would still be Saturday morning for Daddy and Sunday morning for laundry, housework, and errands.

It was a really good thing that her apartment was a tiny space that made short work of cleaning. Since she had little money for anything, errands were rare, except to run the grocer or the post office. And if by some miracle, there was any time left, a nap was always in order.

She was always looking for a better job, but there wasn't a big demand for a personal assistant that understood the not-so-subtle nuances of the political arena. Most places she applied never called. She knew it was because she was over-qualified for waitressing and reception work.

She thought about re-writing her resume and leaving off college and her work in DC. If she only showed the waitressing these last two years, maybe they'd realize receptionist wasn't beneath her. But most everyone around these parts knew her or her dad. Besides, it would be awkward if they asked why she left off DC.

She'd heard about a website that showed some new types of resumes that focused on marketable skills instead of job history. Maybe she should try that?

Dip. Bite. Sip.

Dip. Bite. Sip.

Sip.

Sip.

Sigh.

Ever since Arayna decided to go into politics, she built up grand ideas of moving to Washington and changing the world. Well, she'd moved to DC. And she'd worked hard and several bills –important bills—that she'd helped work on were now law—laws that made life better and safer for a lot of people. So maybe in a small way she made her dream come true?

Dip. Bite.

Frown. Cold French fry.

Sip.

Sip.

Shrug. Cold coffee.

Since she'd come home, she' decided to focus on making life better for one person. Daddy was a hero. Now he was reduced to such a limited life. He had his pension and his VA benefits but it wasn't nearly enough for anything so nice as Sunny Hills. They took good care of him at Sunny Hills and he liked it there. Arayna wanted to make life as pleasant as possible for Daddy.