Chapter 1 - Alexia
When I walked into my mother’s room, I greeted her with a cheerful “Good morning, Mom! How are you feeling today?” She is staring at me with love in her eyes and a smile on her face.
For three years now, I’ve been visiting the nursing home, and every time I step into this room, my heart feels broken. However, I make an effort not to let her notice it. Thus, I offer my grandest smile to my mother and gently kiss her cheek. With that, I take a seat on the adjacent chair to her bed and begin updating her with my latest news while squeezing her hand tightly into mine.
“In the garden, the freesias have begun to bloom along with the tulips and daffodils. It reminds me of Monet’s and Van Gogh’s paintings. When I visit next time, I will bring you a bunch of these flowers”, I smile as I think about it.
My mother responds with a smile that suggests she appreciates it and wants to express her gratitude to me. I stroke her hand gently. Although I’m aware that she doesn’t feel my touch, I still crave the feeling of her gentle hand tangled with mine.
“I have a job interview this afternoon at Madison Square. It’s with one of the largest advertising companies in the world. They’re actually hiring for their marketing department, and I applied two weeks ago. Yesterday, they contacted me to invite me for an interview today. I think this time might be the one, Mom. They’re looking for someone to help create marketing plans for their clients. That’s exactly what I specialized in at university and have experience with at L’Oreal. So, I think my chances are pretty good,” I explain to my mother with a smile.
She responds with a smile and attempts to speak, but is unable to produce any sound from her mouth.
“I understand, Mom. I know you want to wish me luck. No need to worry,” I say with a smile and a wink. She smiles and nods her head in understanding.
Unfortunately, I’ve had to accept that my wonderful and strong mother will spend the rest of her life in bed, unable to move or speak. Even though I’m overcome with sadness, I fight the urge to cry and instead try to control my feelings. I’d rather not tell her about my suffering. There is enough for the two of us, both physically and emotionally. I take the book off the table next to her bed and open it to the page I had previously annotated. I start reading aloud to her. My mother, who has always loved reading, instilled in my brother and me a lifelong passion for books. At home, we have a lot of books. I’ve consistently brought a book to read to my mother over the past three years, and the nurses have also been doing this.
After spending an hour reading to her, Clarissa, one of the nurses, came in with my mom’s lunch tray. She greets me with cheerfulness and asks, “How are you, Alexia?”
“I am well, Clarissa. How about you? Your children?”
“My dear, it’s always work, work, work for me. And even when I return home, there’s more work to do,” she chuckles. “Every time I come home in the evening, the apartment is in a terrible state. I’m starting to wonder if they have guests over during the day because it’s impossible for just two teenagers to make such a mess in just one afternoon!”
I laugh because when she is speaking, she is gesturing with her hands. She is really funny!
“I ask them, “Who left the food remaining in the living room?” and they reply, “We don’t know.” How is it possible not to know? Two people are living there. Who left it? Me?” she continues imitating them. Even my mom is laughing.
“I wish I had ten girls instead of two stupid boys! It would be far easier to handle than them”, she finishes saying, pushing the button for my mom’s bed to lift her into the right position for her lunch.
“Do you want to feed her today, Alexia?” Clarissa proposes to me, but I decline.
“Not today, Clarissa. I have to go. I have to catch the ferry to Manhattan. I have a job interview”.
“Break a leg! We don’t say good luck because it brings bad luck!” she wishes me. I laugh.
Clarissa was born and raised in New Orleans and later moved to this area after the devastating Hurricane Katrina. She lived there for her entire life, but she got tired of her home flooding on a regular basis. Therefore, following the devastating loss from the previous flood, she made the decision to relocate to a place where she could reside without the troubling burden of anticipating another flood. As of now, Staten Island has not seen any flooding. So, when she learned that the island’s nursing home needed nursing staff, she sent in her application and moved to this region. No matter what happens, Clarissa never gives up and is known for being remarkably positive and cheerful in all circumstances. I am confident that my mother enjoys her company as much as I do!
I leave the book I was reading to my mother on the bedside table next to her. I tenderly stroke her head as I leave and say, “Goodbye, dear Mom. Tomorrow, I’ll check in to let you know how the job interview went. Always keep in mind that I love you.”
Her eyes are filled with tears as she gazes at me. I quickly bid Clarissa goodbye as tears started to form in my eyes as well, and I leave the room. I nearly made it out of the nursing home. My cheeks are wet with tears, streaming down from my eyes. Each time I leave, I feel worse. You might tell yourself that you will eventually become accustomed to seeing your mother lying still and silent in her bed every day, but that belief is actually untrue. It’s way tougher!
As I step into the grand Saw Tower, situated just opposite Madison Square, I find myself overwhelmed by its sheer size. I walk toward the front desk, which is next to the barriers at the security entrance.
“Good afternoon! My name is Alexia McLelland. I have an appointment for a job interview at 3 p.m.,” I announce to the lady behind the desk.
“Good afternoon! One moment, please”, she promptly checks her computer screen for my appointment. “Yes, that’s right. 50th floor. Ask for Ms. Ferson at the reception of the floor”, the lady replies gently, giving me a visitor card to enter.
I thank her and then use the scanner to access the security entrance gates with the card. As the steel bars part, I walk through the gate. I make my way toward the elevators and press the button. Out of the eight elevators, only one opens. I come in.
Right before the doors shut completely, a hand intervenes and pushes them open. As soon as the doors open, my breath is taken away by what I witness. The most attractive man I’ve ever seen in my life is standing in front of me! Is he an actor? A model? A TV personality? No, I would have come across him on television, in magazines, or in newspapers. “I’m wondering who he is,” I think to myself as I gaze at him with beguiled eyes.
The stunning individual stands tall, boasting broad shoulders and a powerfully built physique, highlighted by his sleek, dark hair and striking, mesmerizing blue eyes. His outfit consists of a navy three-piece suit and a white shirt. Around his neck, he is adorned with a tie of a vibrant blue hue, and within the confines of his left pocket resides a handkerchief, pure in its whiteness. He is staring at me and appears surprised, but he is not attempting to enter the elevator. As the doors begin to shut, he once again prevents them from closing. Now, he comes in.
Wow, he sure does smell good! I can detect a scent that has hints of citrus and spice. Sexy men’s fragrance!
“Hello!” he cordially greets me with an extremely deep and sensual voice.
“Hello!” I reply with a very timid voice.
What the hell, Alexia? Why are you allowing him to intimidate you? He is a man like everyone else. “Really?” my other self is asking me. Well, to be honest, he doesn’t look at all like the other men. It seems he came from another planet. From the planet where sexy and attractive men are living!
“I see you are going to the 50th floor. Who are you going to see?” he curiously asks me, examining me carefully.
“Why do you want to know?” I reply by asking.
He smiles at me almost laughingly. “Just out of curiosity. I also go to the 50th floor.”
“Are you working here?” I ask him without answering his question. My questions sound amusing to him, but I really do not understand why.
“Well, yes, you can say I am working here”. Then he asks me again, “So, with whom do you have an appointment?”
“With Ms. Ferson. It’s for a job interview, for the marketing department.” I immediately ask him, “In which department do you work?”
He carefully observes me from head to toe. I’m thrilled that I went with a navy-colored business suit, a high-end one at that, with straight-lined trousers and a white silk shirt to emphasize the color. Afterward, he gazes directly into my eyes and says, “Although I am employed by the management team, I do not believe that Ms. Ferson is the one conducting the interviews for the marketing department.”
“I don’t understand. That’s the information I received from the reception desk.” I am confused now. Why have they directed me to the wrong person?
He instantly understands my confusion and tries to reassure me, “Don’t worry, when we arrive on the floor, I will clear it up. What is your name, and what time was your appointment for the job interview?”
“I’m Alexia McLelland. My appointment is at 3p.m.” Right then, the elevator’s doors open.
“After you, Alexia!” he says, waiting for me to go out first. He is also a gentleman. He looks like Mr. Perfect!
“Thank you!” I hurry up to get out of the elevator.
As I move along, he walks closely behind me, and as we pass by the reception desk, we don’t exchange any words with the lady who stares at us with intrigue. He unlocks the door and patiently stands aside for me to step inside. A central glass table and twelve black leather chairs are arranged around a massive table, indicating that the room is set up for meetings.
“Please, Alexia, wait here for a moment. I will check with Ms. Ferson and let you know,” he gently smiles at me.
“Thank you… I don’t know your name.” I try to get his name.
“My name is Anthony. Would you like a cup of coffee or tea?”
“Thank you, Anthony. I am fine,” I smile. He winks and closes the door.
I find myself standing before the grand windows situated alongside the conference hall, deep in thought while admiring the stunning view of New York. Although the conference room isn’t directly facing Madison Square, the sight of New York is absolutely breathtaking!
I like NYC! Three years ago, I used to reside in a tiny studio apartment situated in close proximity to the university. The residence was situated directly across from the picturesque Jefferson Market Garden. I frequently found myself lost in that adorable little garden, using it as a refuge to complete coursework assignments like reports and theses. The situation came to an immediate halt as soon as I got informed about the car accident that my family had been a part of. My father and brother had passed away, and my mother was having a difficult time surviving.
I will always remember the day when the security personnel from the university walked into the classroom and summoned me to join them. They ignored my questions when I tried to find out what it was all about. As soon as we reached the security office, I noticed two police officers were already present and ready for my arrival. I was completely shocked and taken aback when they told me what had occurred. Upon regaining consciousness, I found myself resting in the infirmary bed. A nurse accompanied a psychologist to help ease my anxiety. It seemed as though my entire world had been taken away from me!
As I am lost in my thoughts, the meeting room door suddenly opens, and I am brought back to reality by the entrance of a tall, blonde woman who interrupts me. Her black suit and light blue shirt complement her blue eyes perfectly.
“Hello, I am Lorraine Ferson. Nice to meet you, Ms. McLelland!” the beautiful lady gives me her hand to shake.
“Nice to meet you too, Ms. Ferson!” I shake her hand.
“Please have a seat.” We sit around the table. “Well, I have your application in front of me. Please tell me about yourself,” she smilingly asks.
“I completed my bachelor’s degree in marketing at New York University with a major in branding and innovative advertising. I have also gained experience as an intern at L’Oreal for the duration of one year. I was a member of the marketing team responsible for establishing the brand for the new products. Currently, I am engaging in freelance work for various marketing projects with the aid of small businesses located in both Staten Island and New Jersey. If you’d like to verify their credentials, I have their references on hand”, I say as I open my envelope bag and retrieve the documents.
“No, it will not be necessary. How old are you?”
“I am 25 years old.” Well, it is a normal question to ask me, I think. After all, I haven’t indicated in my resume my birthday date.
“Are you single? Do you currently have a boyfriend?”
“Yes, I am single. I do not have a boyfriend for the time being,” I think it is weird to ask me that.
“What’s your favorite color?”
I think it is odd to ask this in a job interview. Nevertheless, I reply, “White because I can match it with everything.”
“What’s your favorite pet?” she continues with the odd questions.
I think it might be a kind of psychological assessment, so I continue replying. “Cats, because they are intelligent and independent.”
“Do you like men to open the door for you to enter?” she continues with her weird questions.
“Yes, I do... I mean, which woman doesn’t like to be treated with courtesy by a gentleman?”
She smiles. I think she liked my answer. If taking the job requires me to answer these peculiar questions, then I am willing to do so.
“What’s your favorite coffee, and how do you drink it?”
“Cappuccino, with sugar and cinnamon.” I am curious about what else she will ask me next.
“Are you practicing any sports?”
Well, this question is less unusual than the others. “No, but I like walking. When I was living in New York, I went for a walk in Central Park. At home, on Staten Island, I am often walking near the beach.”
“Do you read books?”
“Yes, I do. I love reading books!”
“Who is your favorite writer?”
“Isabel Allende, the daughter of the former President of Chile, who was killed by Pinochet”, I explain to her.
She smiles, “I know.”
Shit, did I offend her? Will she think I thought she was an idiot for not knowing this writer? Damn you, Alexia! Why are you not careful?
“May I see what your bag contains?” That is a very odd request!
“Inside my bag?” I ask her to verify if I had heard well.
“Yes”, she replies totally naturally.
“No, you may not! It is personal!” I reply, obviously offended.
Why on earth does she have an interest in inspecting the contents of my bag? I don’t have anything strange that I need to keep secret, but it is an absurd thought.
She is not insisting, but what she is asking me now freaks me out, “How many sex partners have you had until now?”
“I beg your pardon.” I want to be sure about what I heard in what she just asked.
“How many sexual partners have you had?” she repeats.
This time I reply angrily, “Excuse me, but what does this question have to do with my application?”
“I understand it sounds like a strange question, and you are not obliged to answer it,” she says, staying calm. Her voice has a normal tone, as if it were normal for everyone to answer it.
“Well, I am not going to answer it!” I reply firmly.
I hear the sound of a door opening behind me. I turn around to see who it is by looking back. As Anthony walks into the room, I hear him dismissing Ms. Ferson, “Thank you, Lorraine. You may leave now.”
She nods in agreement with him and says to me, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms. McLelland. I believe we’ll be speaking again very soon.” She offers me her hand for a handshake. I give it a shake. I don’t understand what’s going on. She walks away from us and closes the door behind her.
