Clearance Rack Daughter

I carried that oversized, ill-fitting black suit back to my room.

Mom watched me go, her face full of quiet satisfaction. "You've always been the sensible one, giving way to your sister since you were little. You're not like her. She's always out running around all day with her head in the clouds."

Whatever she said, the smile never left her face, and it was plainly doting.

I didn't look back. My steps only faltered for a moment.

Mom's voice chased after me. "Oh, and I never asked. How did the interview go today? Is a big company like that hard to get into?"

"It was fine." I pushed the door open and left those two words behind in the hallway.

I hung up the suit and sat down at my desk, thinking back to the satisfied smile on Charlie Gilbert's face. Mr. Gilbert, the department head, had told me privately that he had a merit-admission spot open.

If I could land it, I'd go straight into his design department as an intern and skip the usual six-month rotation.

I'd been thrilled just to make it to the second round of interviews.

But after seeing that oversized, clearance-rack suit that clearly wasn't made for me, I'd lost the urge to share the good news with my mother.

There were seven days left until Wednesday's second interview. I told her I needed to prepare and asked her not to bother me for the next few days.

She said happily, "Really? All right, take your time and get ready. I promise I won't bother you."

I pulled out all my notes from my design classes and wrote out the project directions Mr. Gilbert had mentioned in passing during the interview, sketching and revising until I'd filled several pages with ideas.

For the following week, I barely left my room.

The day Molly left with her suitcase, I heard Mom outside fussing over her endlessly. "Pack another jacket. Text me when you get there. Do you have enough money?"

I worked myself ragged for a week and finally had a rough draft of the design ready.

I collapsed into bed and slept over ten hours straight before I felt human again.

When I woke up, Mom was sitting at my computer.

The screen was lit up. She had her reading glasses on, staring intently at something.

I walked over and realized she was watching a drama.

The male and female leads on screen were pouring their hearts out to each other, and Mom dabbed at her eyes as she watched.

She heard my footsteps, took off her glasses, and rubbed her eyes. "My tablet died. I'm just watching a bit on your computer."