“I thought I was being funny.”
“You weren’t.”
“I know.”
“I came here for a job.”
“I know.”
“I drove six hours.”
That landed.
The Single Dad looked at the travel bag again.
Not curiosity this time.
Understanding.
“I know.”
The Woman stared.
“No, you don’t.”
He nodded once.
“You’re right.”
Behind them, a door opened.
A small boy stepped into the office holding a math worksheet.
Nine years old.
Messy hair.
Dark eyes.
Serious expression.
The Son looked at his father.
Then the Woman.
Then the travel bag.
“Dad?”
The Single Dad turned.
“Not now, buddy.”
The Son lifted the worksheet.
“Problem seven.”
“In a minute.”
The Woman’s eyes dropped to the paper.
The Son noticed.
So did the Single Dad.
The Woman looked back toward the rain.
Then at the boy.
“What’s problem seven?”
The Son hesitated.
The Single Dad almost interrupted.
Didn’t.
The boy crossed the room.
Held out the worksheet.
The Woman bent slightly.
Long division.
She pointed.
“You’re right until here.”
The Son looked.
“You forgot to bring the remainder down.”
His eyes narrowed.
Then widened.
“Oh.”
“Try again.”
He took the paper back.
Returned to the rear room.
The Woman straightened.
The Single Dad looked at her.
She looked at him.
“One interview.”
He blinked.
“What?”
“One.”
She put the travel bag down.
“And if you say ‘wife’ again, I’m leaving.”
The Single Dad nodded immediately.
“Understood.”
“Completely.”
“Yes.”
The Woman returned to the counter.
Opened her résumé.
The interview began.
It lasted forty-seven minutes.
The Single Dad had prepared questions on a yellow legal pad.
Most were basic.
QuickBooks.
Vendor accounts.
Customer scheduling.
Insurance claims.
Payroll.
The Woman answered without trying to impress him.
That impressed him more.
She did not say she could “probably learn” things.
She told him exactly what she had done.
How many accounts.
What systems.
What volume.
What problems.
What results.
Halfway through, the phone rang.
The Single Dad answered.
A customer wanted to know whether a transmission part had arrived.
The Single Dad looked around.
Then toward a pile of paper.
Then another pile.
Then a box.
The Woman watched.
He found nothing.
“I’ll call you back.”
He hung up.
The Woman looked at the desk.
“What system are you using for parts tracking?”