| |
TORI CARLIN CHOSE A pew two seats from the end of the aisle and settled in with a sigh. Faint clunks and thuds of construction noise filtered in from outside, no louder than the click of the ceiling fans in the rafters. The clock tower bell chimed twice, the sound muffled by thick stone and mortar walls.
Two hours ago, she'd delivered orders of hand made costume jewelery to former colleagues, now her clients. She'd schmoozed, networked, and listened to tales of drama and office politics until a familiar sear of anxiety sliced through her body. St. Mark Cathedral had been her sanctuary from that. Phantom pain, she reassured herself. The root cause of the malaise had been excised. She made herself think instead about red and yellow tulips that danced in the breeze and the husks that detached from tender buds on trees and settled on her head as she’d climbed the gentle slope earlier to her former place of business.
Soothed, she drifted into a pleasant fog where nothing mattered.
A muffled rustle, a soft whisper, echoed in the stillness of the space, trickled into her ears. Tori inhaled sharply and opened her eyes. An elderly woman made the sign of the cross and wobbled to her feet. She shuffled into the aisle, turned, squinted at Tori, and clasped both hands over her chest.
“Tori, dearest.” The two women met with a hug.
“Doris, so nice to see you again. How are you?”
“Older than I was and younger than I'm gonna be. Seventy-three in two weeks.” The top of Doris's head came to Tori's chin, her body felt thin but wiry. Eyes like polished onyx beads contrasted with a head of frizzy silver hair. Smooth chocolate brown skin belied her age.
“Still making sure Reverend Andrew eats three meals a day and all this wood shines like satin?”
“Keeps me busy and out of trouble,” Doris chuckled. “We haven't seen much of you since you retired. Speaking of which, you may be the answer to my prayers. Reverend Andrew needs somebody to help him with the paperwork. Bookkeeping and the like.”
“Isn't there already a secretary here?”
“Yes, Rhonda. The poor girl called Reverend Andrew last night. She's been put on bedrest until her baby's born. Won't be back for a year after the child comes. Reverend Andrew needs someone until the diocese finds a replacement for Rhonda.” Tori sensed what was coming.
Doris took a deep breath. “I prayed for a solution and the Lord sent you. You know about computers and office work. I know you said you didn't want to work in an office ever again. Maybe just this little temporary job?”
Tori's brain spun in overdrive as a million thoughts skated in circles and landed on their backsides. The elderly woman was right. Tori had sworn off salaried employment for the rest of her life. How could she consider taking a new job now? A short visit to the premises of her ex-employer had sent her running for refuge in this church again. Since she'd been liberated from a time-consuming office job, her hobby business had grown as she worked to her own personalized schedule. Time was something she'd fought to control, to tame and bend to her work lifestyle. These days, after a leisurely breakfast and a morning walk around the neighborhood, she arranged her day as it suited her. Granted, at fifty-five, Tori considered herself too young for the rocking chair, but too old to find employment without refresher schooling. The idea of a job search and a return to wage slavery brought on new waves of anxiety. Tori had accepted a generous severance payment from her former employer with gratitude. It gave her a year of freedom to grow her hobby business without financial strain. Still, transformation from stress bunny to Zen lady had been harder than she'd anticipated.
If she took this temporary, undemanding job it might serve as therapy, a bridge between a thirty-year habit of wage slavery, and a more relaxed life. It might even test her resolve to break with the past.
“Yes, I'd consider it.” The words slipped out before the final decision filtered through to her conscious mind.
“Oh thank-you, Tori,” Doris clapped her hands in delight. “Come, we'll see Reverend Andrew right away.”
The bronze plaque on the door said: 'Reverend Andrew McAdam'. Although the door was ajar, Doris knocked softly. The minister stared at them over the top of his glasses, his expression blank, forehead folded into deep furrows.
“Reverend, good news,” At the sound of Doris's voice, Reverend Andrew's eyes blinked into focus.
“This is Tori Carlin.” The priest rose and extended his hand to Tori across the desk. “She has the experience to replace Rhonda,” Doris beamed at the minister.
“I know you from somewhere.” McAdam's eyes narrowed as he searched his memory. “Oh, yes of course. The thrift shop. Haven't seen you recently though. Familiar with technological beasts, are you?” Pale blue eyes twinkled from under graying eyebrows that matched his hair and mustache.
“I am,” Tori held the minister's gaze with bravado confidence. “I’ve worked on word processing, spreadsheets, and other business software.”
“Well, we have all that, I'm afraid. Please sit.” McAdam's fingers flew over the laptop keyboard. He punched a key with finality. A printer behind him whirred. He plucked two sheets out and slid them across the desk to Tori. “We'll begin with this. Ask Doris to take you to Rhonda's office. Bring the application back to me when you're done.”
“I will, Reverend.” By the time Tori picked up the sheets, McAdam was once again frowning at his laptop screen.
Doris pounced the moment Tori stepped out of McAdam's office.
“Were you eavesdropping?” Tori grinned at the elderly woman, whose lips twitched in reply. She waved Tori to follow and led her to a bright, comfortable room.
“Here we are.” The little woman waved Tori inside. “I'll go get coffee. Or do you prefer tea? And a biscuit? Or a muffin?”
“Tea and a biscuit, thanks.” Maternal instincts in full tilt, Doris headed off toward the kitchen.
Tori's gaze swept the room. This could be her new reality. A poster that featured a sunny beach took up most of the real estate on one wall. A large window framed Windsor Station across the street. That grand old lady once housed a busy train hub, but now hosted restaurants, boutiques, and a ballroom. On the street corner at the bottom of a gentle slope, people lined up, waiting for a bus. A homeless man shuffled along the line, begging for donations.
Tori turned back to the desk to complete the application. Half an hour later, she knocked on the minister's door.
“Ah, yes. Come in Ms Carlin, take a seat.”
The priest scanned the document.
“Very good. Head Office approves all hires. In your case, I foresee a formality. Can you start Thursday?”
“I have a few loose ends to take care of, but I can do it for Thursday.”
“Aren't you curious about the compensation?” Tori's eyebrows rose, and the corners of her mouth curved down. McAdam grinned. “It's competitive for office workers. Perhaps not what you earned before, but it's not bad. It'll be confirmed in the offer of employment letter.” He paused and looked at the application again. “I expect diocese approval by this evening. You're sure you'll be able to start Thursday, Ms Carlin? I need an assistant as soon as possible.”
“Yes, thank-you, Reverend.” Tori left the minister’s office with mixed emotions. She wasn’t sure she wanted to go back to the daily commute and all the frustrations that came with it. On the other hand, it was a temporary position, maybe two, at most three months.
Doris popped her head out from the doorway of the assistant's office as Tori approached, a question on her face.
Tori strode to the desk and sat in the chair. Doris clapped her hands in glee.
“The Reverend needs to get approval from head office first.”
“Of course, you’ll be approved.”
Tori chuckled. “You're likely to know before I do. Just in case, I better get home. If I’m to start work on Thursday, I'll have to switch some stuff around.”
“You go ahead, dearest. I'll see you soon, I'm sure.”
Right, she'd barely finished moaning about stressful jobs and the joys of freedom and now she'd committed herself to a paying job. So eager to return to the grind, she didn't even ask for how long or for the salary. No matter, she'd call the Reverend as soon as she got home and tell him she'd changed her mind.
But once again premonition set her on a head-on collision with life-changing events.