As she sat down in front of the computer, Anna’s throat tightened. Her chest felt heavy, and an uncomfortable tingling spread at the nape of her neck. She sprang from the chair. “The kid’s concert outfit! I forgot to iron it! How could I be so stupid?”
“Leave it, Mom, I can iron…”
“No way! You’ll burn yourself.”
She snatched the new, modern handheld steamer from her fifteen-year-old pianist daughter’s hands—a steamer they’d bought precisely so her daughter could easily iron anything.
“With this?”
“Accidents can happen anytime.”
“I’m not a little kid anymore. I know how to be careful! Besides, you chose this one because it’s safe.”
“Please don’t argue. I don’t have time for this! I don’t even know where my head is!”
“Exactly. Because you’re spending time on unnecessary things instead of getting on with what’s important!”
“Rude little brat,” she fumed silently while changing clothes. “She has no idea what it’s like to raise two kids alone.”
She couldn’t go back to the computer. She remembered she hadn’t prepared mushrooms for the celebratory dinner after the concert, even though they were her daughter’s favorite. How could they not be on the table? She couldn’t let that happen. She had to dash out for fresh mushrooms. Canned wouldn’t cut it for an occasion like this, even though she always had some at home. Damn! She was taking on too many cleaning jobs. And there was one house she hated going to. How could someone live in such filth? She really ought to cut them loose. Her stomach churned just approaching the gate, seeing that torn garbage bag. Of course, fake nails and hair extensions were essential, but hygiene? That woman could turn a beautiful house into a pigsty in a week. And here she was, who’d take such good care of a place like that!
“How’s the studying going?” her chubby-faced cashier friend asked.
“About as well as your weight loss,” she thought. “Not at all. It’s year-end rush time. Concerts, term exams, the usual. I’ll get it done in the summer when there’s less to do with the kids. Then I’ll take my final exams.”
“Make them pitch in over the break so you don’t run out of time! They’re old enough to help. Your daughter could make a lunch on her own. Your son could assist her. You’ll see how much free time that’ll give you.”
She didn’t feel like responding. Funny how everyone seemed to know what she should be doing better than she did. Especially her friend, who had been planning to start a diet for about seven years, always sidetracked by something—a wedding, a birthday, a stressful period. Somehow, every period in the cashier’s life was stressful. New boss, new colleague, new barcode scanner, new product line. Just one day in her life with two kids, and then she’d understand how much time was left for dreams. Then she wouldn’t be pestering her every day.
“I’ll take the kids for two weeks at the start of their vacation,” her ex-husband announced theatrically. “You’ll have fourteen peaceful days to focus on your studies without distraction. You could even take some leave. Your clients can go without cleaning for that long. They might even pick up a mop themselves.”
“Those people?” Anna scoffed. “They’d drown in their own filth first.”
“Even so. School is the most important thing. If you finish, you won’t have to spread yourself so thin anymore. You’ll finally be able to do what you’ve always dreamed of.”
“Thank you. You’re right. I won’t focus on anything but my future for those two weeks. When the kids come back, they’ll have a whole new mom,” Anna smiled.
At that moment, she truly believed she would pass her final exam. She’d finally get that wretched certificate that had stood between her and her dreams, that would let her do full-time work she was best at. How many years she had struggled to save enough for the course! She’d almost given up, and now she was standing at the threshold of happiness.
“I hung enough cooked food on your gate to last you a few days. Don’t even think about wasting time on such silly things,” her friend exclaimed over the phone.
“What did you do?”
“I’ll bring more soon. When I was sick, you helped me. During these two weeks, I’ll take care of you. How’s it going?”
“I’m cleaning, actually. You know, at the pigsty place.”
“Didn’t you say you’d cancel all your jobs?”
“I couldn’t cancel this one. She’s so helpless, she’d probably end up in the hospital.”
“In two weeks? Are you out of your mind? Finishing school is the most important thing.”
“Yes, it is. When I get home, I’ll get right to it, I promise.”
She stared blankly at the ceiling. Where would she advertise herself? Even though many people knew what she was preparing for, and a few came to her unofficially, she’d need many more clients to support herself. She’d have to rent a space; she couldn’t take strangers into her apartment. There wasn’t even a free room for a massage table. A professional doesn’t give massages in the living room, in front of the TV cabinet. She’d need to get a job at a hotel, but they didn’t hire beginners. No one wanted to take a risk. She couldn’t give up cleaning. Not for a few more years, not until the kids were independent. She’d take the risk after that. But not now. She couldn’t, for the kids.
“Did you just lose the exam fee or the whole course?”
“If I take it within a year, it’s only the exam fee.”
“And will you go?”
“What for? I can’t dive in until I’m the sole provider for the kids.”
“Your ex supports you with everything, doesn’t he?”
“He’s not always available.”
“I’m here too. You can’t give up now, not after all the work you’ve put in!”
“And you? How many pounds have you lost in the past seven years?” she thought in response.