Maggie and Stella slid into a booth, neither bothering to look at a menu. Unsurprisingly, they each ordered their favorites Rhubarb pie and a coke for Stella and Apple Pie and a coffee for Maggie. There was a comfortable silence, the kinds that only comes between mothers and daughters who have grown into friends.
Maggie sat there and began to wonder if there just wasn’t something wrong with her, after all she had gone on all of these interviews and had yet to receive a second interview. It wasn’t that she wasn’t well qualified or interviewed poorly she knew, but she suspected that firms only wanted to hire individuals that could, and would, easily slip into the mold expected of them. Maggie knew that failure to wear the black suit uniform of her profession was a detriment but she wasn’t willing to compromise personal ethics and standards for the sake of a job.
Stella sat there quietly sipping her coke and watch the emotions flicker across her daughters face. She knew that Maggie was worried about not landing a job yet but knew that the right job just hadn’t presented itself yet. Stella was also immensely proud of Maggie for being wise enough to understand that compromising personal convictions to land a job would ultimately lead to more problems that the immediate gratification of having a job and a paycheck could ever compensate for.
The waitress slid their order in front of them and Stella broke the silence, “Hey Maggie, stop fretting. The next interview may be the one and if it’s not, then something else will come along. Sometimes the path lest taken is the best choice in life.”
“I know Mom but sometimes the path trodden by the masses leads to financial stability.”
“Cactus, there are many paths to financial stability some more obvious than others, but there is only one path that leads to true personal satisfaction and respect. Why deviate when ultimately you know the well-trodden path will be a short detour before you cannot look yourself in the mirror in the morning?”
“I know Mom, believe me I know. But it is frustrating that others only see the outside appearance and judge based solely on that and fail to even take the time to figure out that my intelligence, wit, and cunning are not determined by the color of my suit, the height of my heels, or the circumference of my waistline.”
Maggie’s voice was that mix of frustration, anger, and regret that Stella knew well. Maggie was in the process of getting so pissed off, that her self-confidence would be back long before they got back into the car. Stella smiled to herself and just listened to Maggie as she unwittingly gave herself the pep-talk she needed.
“I mean, seriously, does a black suit somehow make you more intelligent? Nope, last time I checked it just made it look like you had no personality and were afraid to dress yourself without parental help.” Maggie smiled slyly, and any passerby would have instantly gotten the utter lack of respect Maggie held for the black suit brigade. “I have a sense of style and I know that the color of my clothing doesn’t diminish my intelligence so screw them and screw their jobs. Some other schmuck can get hired and be burned up by the suits. I am so going to nail that interview with Carson Stone and dammit I will be the first woman that man ever hires.” There was a fierce determination in Maggie’s voice and a spark of determination in her eyes.
“Cactus,” Stella smiled at Maggie “Henry and I are so proud of you and know that you will find the right job when it comes along. Now would you like to go home and put today behind you?”
“Mom, I would like nothing more than to go home and thanks, for feeding me pie and letting me work this out before I brought the toxicity home with me.”
“Hey, what are mother’s for?” Stella smiled as they left the diner and got into the car.
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