Jack pulled into the parking garage of the apartment building and stepped from the car. A quick glance told him that Rose was home. The used hybrid they had bought with the insurance money from the wrecked car sat in its usual space beside his, the improbable orange paint added by the last owner and the roses he had painted on it to cover some scratched spots impossible to miss. One of Lizzy’s preschool friends had dubbed it the Rosemobile, and the name had stuck.
He grimaced at the thought. Unless he managed to find another job quickly—or Rose’s career prospects picked up soon—Lizzy would have to leave preschool. The tuition was too high to afford on what little money they had saved, and due to the fact that he tutored a few hours a week at his university, he wasn’t technically unemployed and thus did not qualify for unemployment benefits.
It wasn’t so much a question of educating her—Lizzy was only four years old, but very bright and curious, and both of her parents were well-educated and more than capable of teaching her anything she needed to know—but the child enjoyed going to preschool three mornings a week, and would be very disappointed if she had to stop. Disappointment was a part of life, but it didn’t seem fair to pull the little girl from an activity she enjoyed so much.
It would only be seven months before Lizzy was ready for kindergarten and the local public school, but he hated the idea of interrupting her education and social development. She had friends that she played with sometimes, and Mari was almost always willing to take her for a few hours, but he remembered being removed from the school he was used to on more than one occasion as a teenager and unceremoniously placed in another—and how hard it had been to adjust at times. If it had been difficult for him as a teenager, how much harder might it be for a four-year-old?
Picking up the box of things he had taken home from work, Jack climbed the stairs toward his apartment, digging through his pocket for the keys. It wasn’t as if they didn’t already have enough trouble in their lives to cope with—it had been only a little over two months since the traumatic car accident and Paul’s death. The last thing they needed was the stress of financial hardship.
Jack unlocked the apartment door, ignoring the twinge in his arm. He’d only had the cast removed the week before and was still regaining his strength. Flexing his arm, he hoped that he would regain his strength soon. He might need to take any kind of job available to get by, and a weak arm would be a liability.
Rose heard the door open and turned to greet him from where she had been sitting at the computer, composing a new tune. "Jack, you’re home. How did the meeting go?"
He sighed, setting down the box and going to stand beside her. "Terrible. I suspected as much, especially since they called this meeting on a Saturday, but it was worse than I’d thought."
"What happened?" Rose got up, her long, full skirt swirling around her. They sat down on the couch, Jack resting his head back against the back. "What kind of bullshit did they pull this time?"
"The company is bankrupt, courtesy of that damned CEO who skimmed money for himself and caused the stock to drop. What remained was sold to White Star Publishers for a pittance, and everyone who worked for Vandekar is out of a job." He sighed, taking Rose’s hand. "What’s worse, they chose to pay off the top management, leaving nothing for anyone else. No severance pay—nothing at all."
Rose was silent for a moment, taking in the news. "Do you think you might have been denied severance pay because of the time you had to take off to be in court to testify against that drunk driver?”
Jack sighed, shaking his head. “No, I don’t think so. If they did, then they used me as a reason to deny it to all the assistant managers. I talked to some of the others on my way out, and they were denied severance pay, too.”
Rose rested her chin on her fist, thinking. “Well…we’ll make do somehow. You’ve got a college degree, which might help you find another job, maybe with a more ethical company…"
"Maybe. Or, on the other hand, it might do more harm than good. You know how a lot of employers are—if you have the necessary knowledge and experience for a job, they don’t want you, because then they’d have to pay you what you’re worth. They call it being overqualified."
"I know." Rose leaned her head back beside his. "I ran into that argument more than once when I first went looking for a job after breaking things off with Cal. It’s ridiculous and utterly frustrating—and then the people in charge wonder why things don’t get done as well as they would like. I did eventually find something, though—you can’t give up before you’ve even tried."
"I know, and I don’t intend to. But…do you think that the upper management at Vandekar ever thought about they were hurting by their actions? I would like to think that at least some of them had a conscience."
"Maybe. But if they did, they either didn’t think about it too hard, or were voted down. Nine times out of ten, greed wins—at least until it works itself into a corner, and then everything collapses. It’s the same old story time and time again."
"I just wish these people would think first."
"They do—but usually about themselves. Everyone else comes last, if at all." She leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand thoughtfully. "You know, Jack, it could be worse. You could be one of those near to retirement who lost everything, or one of those for whom their job is their life, or money is what matters more than anything to them. Whatever happens, we’ll survive. You know what my philosophy on this is—a little this and that will keep us going quite well."
"Yeah. That’s true, but…you know, when I was eighteen, nineteen years old, something like this would hardly have bothered me. It would have been nothing more than an opportunity to try something new, go somewhere else. Back then, I didn’t mind living as a vagabond, living hand to mouth and not knowing where my next meal was coming from. It got uncomfortable sometimes, sure, but it was all a part of the adventure. I could still do it if I had to, and so could you." He looked at her, a half-smile lighting his eyes. "I do believe, Rose, that you would find it an adventure, too."
Rose grinned at him, leaning back beside him. "I think I would, too. To go around singing for my supper—that would be an adventure."
"It would be, but I don’t think it would be half as much fun for Lizzy. She’s too little to do most kinds of work, or to be left to her own devices for long. I’ve seen kids in that kind of situation—homeless kids, migrant workers’ kids—it was all too often a hard life for them. Some thrived, sure, but others didn’t do as well. I don’t want to pull Lizzy into a life like that unless I have to. Being a parent changes how you think."
Rose sighed. "You’re right, of course, about Lizzy—and I’m not too eager to be a migrant worker, or a homeless mother. Not many people are. Usually, that’s what you do because you have to. Besides, I think I find more than my share of adventure right here."
"Like getting shot at because someone didn’t like the lyrics to your song."
"We don’t know for sure that’s why it happened."
"It is. I’m sure of it. That sort of thing never happened before you started in on Vandekar."
Rose gave him a disbelieving look. "I guess you don’t remember how many times I’ve gotten into trouble over my politics and my big mouth."
"Not that kind of trouble. People got mad, but no one ever tried to kill you over it before."
"I think that’s why I’ve been getting fewer singing engagements—I might attract unsavory elements."
Jack couldn’t help but laugh at the picture that brought to mind. "True—you might attract embezzling CEO’s and bad-tempered managers. What is the world coming to?"
Rose laughed, too. "They’re not my usual crowd, anyway—how many of them are interested in social and political activism like I sing about?"
"Not many." Jack sobered, pulling her close. "We’ll make do, I’m sure—I’ve never yet seen it so bad that nothing could be done—but it may be tight for a while. We probably won’t be able to keep Lizzy in preschool, and we’ll have to find another apartment—this one is too expensive."
"Mari is looking for roommates. She’s been living in a two-bedroom apartment in Perris, by herself—and the rent is hard to keep up with on what she makes working for the EPA. We could ask her about it."
"I’ve heard some bad things about Perris."
"It isn’t that bad, Jack. I’ve been there. It doesn’t deserve its reputation that I can see. It’s no better and no worse than Riverside—just a lot smaller, and less expensive. Besides, it’s something of an adventure, right? And Lizzy adores Mari, it’s within a few miles’ drive of everywhere, and we’d be as likely to find jobs living there as anywhere." At Jack’s surprised look, she went on. "Yes, I’m going to try to find a steady job. I love singing—but it won’t support us, at least not now, and we do have Lizzy to think about. I’ll keep singing on the side, but until things are stable for us again—whenever that might be—or until I get my big break, as it were, I think I need to look for steady work, preferably in music or politics, but if not…well…I’m multi-talented. So are you." She turned to him, putting her arms around him. "Things will work out, Jack. I know they will."