I just had to get through today. With good news.
Hopefully.
My throat clenched as my clammy hands shifted around the warm mug of tea steeping on the kitchen counter. I pulled the tea ball out and blew on the steaming liquid as spicy cinnamon wafted across my nose.
The howling wind plummeted the temperatures to -40°C. Normal for Winnipeg in winter. Wispy fingers of snow stretched across the road, reaching for the opposite side as the forceful gust of air separated the loose layers of snow from the packed layers beneath.
I sighed, thankful for my warm apartment, and fed Little Prince, my beta fish, before snuggling under a warm blanket in the living room with my tea. I worked my fingers through my long brown hair that hung halfway down my back. I hadn’t brushed it yet today, so I worked out most of the tangles and then did a loose braid. It occupied my hands and mind for a few minutes while waiting for the phone call.
What would I do if I didn't get rehired? The thought played around my mind like a cat with a ball. It was nearing 11:30, so any moment now the call would come. The call that’d tell me nothing was available. No call meant an email confirming a teaching appointment. Maybe, hope against hope, there'd be good news.
I checked my email praying for the final scenarios of this coming term to be posted.
Nothing.
With the recent government cutbacks for English programs that served the surge of new immigrants to Canada coupled with low seniority, there was a very slim chance I'd be rehired.
A soft ping filled my quiet apartment and tea sloshed from my cup burning my thumb when I reached for my phone. I licked my finger and recognized the text from friend and colleague Hannah Kim. Her parents were from Korea, but she was born and raised in Canada.
“Hey, Tea!” Her text read. “Any news yet?”
A smile played across my lips. I could hear her voice elongating the "Te" to Tay and giving voice to the 'a' by saying 'ah'. It was the shortened form of my name Matea.
“Nope, you?” I texted back.
“Nothing and the waiting is killing me.”
“I know. Do you regret not looking for work when the semester finished in December?”
“Actually… I did look around.”
“You did?” I waited. I sipped my tea but nothing. “And?” I prompted.
Knowing Hannah, she'd probably gotten distracted by another text or phone call—her family always kept close tabs on her which was part of the reason she left Vancouver and came to Winnipeg—or she’d received a text from one of her many boyfriends, which she went through like most people go through tea bags—use once or twice then throw away—her relationships were never serious. Always a casual date, dinner, or activity like a paint night and then on to someone else. I had no idea how she met these guys as she wasn't someone who frequented clubs.
My phone pinged.
“Sorry, Mom’s texted at least once every thirty minutes all morning. She's driving me crazy. She tells me to move back to Vancouver and will introduce me to her friend's son who's also single.” Her mom’s constant matchmaking to find Hannah a suitable Korean husband was my friend’s second reason for avoiding Vancouver and remaining in Winnipeg.
Hannah inserted an emoji with a green face. “It's like being single is a disease to her.”
A soft melody wafted from my phone. It was the office number of the Program Coordinator, or P.C., where I was hoping for employment in the coming term. I swiped the screen.
"Hi, Cindy." My voice sounded bright and friendly effectively hiding the turmoil in my mind. This was it. The news I'd been waiting to hear.
"Hi Matea, did you enjoy your winter break?"
"Yes, it was restful. And you?" My heart clenched in my chest. I wished my P.C. would forego the pleasant conversation and get to the reason for the call but rushing her would be unprofessional.
"It was good. We went to Steinbach to visit with my husband's family and then to Winkler for my family. A lot of driving, but good visits."
"That's good to hear."
There was a pause. The wind outside filled the space with a shriek. Cold prickles danced across my skin. The bad news was coming. My breath came in sharp gasps and the corners of my vision darkened. I shifted positions attempting to distract the anxiety tearing at me.
"So, about this coming term. I'm sorry, but we just couldn't provide everyone with work due to the cutbacks. I'm really sorry."
I choked back a sob and focused on Little Prince as he moved lazily through his world with little care for the devastation hitting mine. "It's... it's okay, Cindy." The words tumbled out of my mouth.
"Again, I'm sorry. I hate making these calls."
"I know it's not your fault."
"It certainly isn't! You're one of the best teachers we have. You add a lot of creative talent to your classes and are always implementing ideas learned from professional development."
"Thanks for saying that." The words barely squeezed past the lump in my throat. Just hold it together until the conversation’s over, I internally chanted.
"Listen Tea, if you need a reference or anything, know you can count on me. I have nothing but good things to say."
"Thanks, Cindy. I appreciate that. I loved working there."
"And I hope you can return soon, but you know how it is."
A sharp laugh escaped my lips. "Yeah, a job that's always dependent on enrollment or the whims of the government for funding. Not very stable. Sorry, Cindy. That's not an attack on you."
"Oh, I know, and no worries. Okay?”
“Okay.”
“You need to talk, you come and see me. You know my door is always open."
"Yeah, I do."
"You take care and stay warm. I know you'll find something soon. Any employer would be a fool to let you go and I hate being forced into this, but... funding and cutbacks. Anyway, I've more calls to make."
"Take care." A surplus of tears streamed down my cheeks.
Hannah had sent seven messages and my parents would be waiting for my call, but right now, my emotions needed attention.
My tea had cooled to a drinkable temperature and the liquid warmth drew me out of my ennui. The news had been expected but still disappointing. A sigh leaked out. No work. No openings. Who hires in January right after Christmas? Who can hire when the government makes cutbacks? While there were some private institutes, their pay was maybe two-thirds—barely above the poverty line—of what one would make at university or government programs. My options were slim, but Hannah said she'd been looking around; maybe she knew of something.
I scrambled to grab my phone buried in the folds of the blanket and quickly scanned through her messages. There were ten of them now. A few complaints about her mom, a text asking me to respond when I didn't, and then her response to the news of no work.
“CALL ME!” Was Hannah's last text.
"Took you long enough," Hannah said though her tone was light.
"Well hello to you too."
“No work?”
“We are officially unemployed.” I fiddled with the corner of my blanket as an emotional distraction. Somehow saying unemployed out loud made it real and I didn’t quite feel ready for that level of reality.
"Okay, get dressed. We're going out."
"What? No way! It's freezing out there." Even though she couldn’t see me, I firmly secured my blanket as proof of warding off the cold and giving a reason for remaining inside.
"Hey, get off your but, finish your tea, and meet me at IKEA in thirty minutes. If you don't, I won't tell you about the awesome job opportunity I heard about recently."
I straightened. "What?"
"Twenty-nine minutes now. See you soon." Hannah's giggle trailed after her voice as she hung up.
Casting aside my blanket, I grabbed the edges to fold it and then downed the last mouthful of my tea before changing.
Twenty minutes later, I’d successfully brushed snow off my Honda Fit and was on my way to the massive Swedish complex. Unlike me, most people were smart enough to remain indoors, so thankfully the parking lot had ample space near the front. I swept through the huge revolving entrance and my former student, a familiar petite IKEA worker, greeted me.
"Hi YiTing," I said.
"Oh, Teacher, hi. It is good to see you." She grabbed my hand and squeezed. "Did you have a good Christmas?"
"Yes, and you? Did you get to experience your first Christmas in Canada?"
"Yes, it was very nice. I ate the turkey with a nice Canadian family I met from the church where I go for the community English classes. It was very nice but tastes like chicken."
This wasn’t the first time I’d heard a student mention how much turkey tasted like chicken as if disappointed. "Are you still taking the community classes?”
YiTing nodded and greeted another customer holding out a bright yellow bag for them to take. “I like to go. It’s not like the classes you teach at the university. The church classes help me practice my speaking and I make friends with the Canadians.”
“I’m glad you found the group.” I glanced around the large entranceway. Hannah wasn’t sitting on the couches by the revolving door. There was a kids’ drop-off for the play area to the right of the escalator and lockers stacked up in front of the bathrooms to the left of the escalator. “Have you seen Hannah?"
Strong thick fingers clamped on my shoulders. "No, because I just arrived. You beat me!"
I swiveled around. "Good, then I didn't miss out on the news you have to share."
Hannah turned to our former student. "NiHao YiTing."
Her eyes brightened. "Teacher Hannah, You speak Chinese?”
“Only the greetings.”
“Do you need a shopping bag?" She held up a large bright yellow bag.
"No thanks, we're just here for a walk since the weather's so awful outside," I said.
"Okay, the new semester starts next week. I will see you then." She gave a slight bow by tilting her head forward.
"Hannah and I didn't get work there this term."
YiTing's face fell. "But why? You are the best teachers."
"Thanks, but with the government cutbacks, there wasn't enough funding for all of us."
"Oh, you will be missed. Enjoy your walk teachers." She offered another slight bow.
"Thanks," we both replied and then stashed our jackets in the lockers.
"So, tell me about this news!" I demanded on the way up the escalator.
"My, my aren't you impatient."
"Try unemployed and desperate for work."
Hannah laughed and stopped to admire a couch at the first display we passed. She studied the tags, and I wondered if she was stalling. She looked uncertain and it wasn’t like her apartment needed furniture. She’d brought up the job opportunity and ordered me here and now she seemed reluctant to share.
"It's a new English center and the interviews are later this week. You'd need to get your resume in like today, or maybe tomorrow latest." Her tone was even. She moved away from the couch to another display room again focusing on furniture.
Was she avoiding looking at me?
"Okay," I replied wanting to keep her talking. Employment was more important than her evasive behavior which I could tackle later.
She glanced up and smiled then dug through her purse. "Here's the contact information." She passed me a business card. There was an email address scrawled across it and the words: resume, cover letter, and teaching portfolio were listed beneath.
"No address? Or name? Seems kind of sketchy."
"Look, it was given to me by a... a friend. And it's legit. I promise."
An eyebrow arched and I crossed my arms. "A friend? Like one of your many guy friends?"
"Don't be judgy." She turned and set off at a brisk pace through the rest of the showroom section.
I was slightly out of breath by the time I caught up with her in the section for desks. "Not judging you. Okay? Just judging the source. When does a place advertise by an email address?"
She looked to the side like she was trying to come up with an answer. "Look, the person who gave me the card is kind of like a recruiter."
"For this English center?"
"Not exactly. He just knows about the company, and I met him for coffee about a week ago. He mentioned the school was looking for ESL teachers and jotted down the email address. That's it."
I looked again at the card and scanned the email address: info@ESLfortransition.fr
"Dot fr. Wait, is the job in France, or something?"
"Or something," Hannah muttered quietly.
"What aren't you telling me?"
She finally faced me. "Nothing. I'm telling you all I know. Do you want the job or not?"
She moved to grab the business card, but I cupped it in my hands.
Hannah flung up her hands. "Apply or don't apply. We both need jobs and if we get on here since it's a new business, we'd have seniority for once. All we have to do is pass the interview."
Maybe I was reading too much into her behavior. Unstable employment and lack of family support were probably making Hannah a bit cagey.
"Okay. Thanks for letting me know." I glanced at the card once more and then tucked it into my back pocket with my phone. I still felt Hannah was hiding something from me, but as our walk through IKEA continued, she relaxed and was more like the Hannah I knew. Yeah, probably just the job, or lack of one, and family.
When I returned home, I saw a text from my mom asking about my job situation. I'd call her soon.
I set the kettle on to boil and pulled out the card. Was Hannah telling me everything about the job? I wasn’t sure, but I needed employment, stable employment. I grabbed my laptop and pulled up my most recent resume, cover letter, and teaching portfolio. It wouldn't hurt to apply. At least then I'd find out what kind of job this was, and Hannah was right about one thing, being hired when the company was starting, would give us seniority. I had nothing to lose.
