I, Natalie Taylor, Am Not the Only Desperate One

March 14
7:58 a.m.



“Depends whose calling…” At least that’s what I thought I said, but it sounded more like, “Dedswoling.”

I mean it is some ungodly hour and I’m not a morning Miss Sunshine type of person. Also, I had been worrying about this interview. Somewhat.

“Natalie?” The voice again. The voice. Oh no, it’s my potential new employer’s voice.

My brain went into this freeze. You know how you have those dreams when you’re trying to scream but no sound comes out?

“This is Mark.” Now I’m suddenly struck by a fit of giggles. I stuff my sheet in my mouth to try and stifle the sound.

“Mark from the church.”

I hold my breath and try and talk. Maybe that will keep me from laughing…unless I pass out first.

“Yes, this is Natalie. Why are you calling?” No. No. No. How about “How may I help you?” Anything.

Apparently Mark is oblivious. “I’m really sorry to reschedule your interview…”

I knew it, God was punishing me for the church remark.

“…but I couldn’t pull the Personnel Committee together. Could you meet tomorrow afternoon? I know it’s Sunday…”

Okay, I had jumped to conclusions again. Another profuse apology to my Creator.

“Absolutely. Will be happy to. See you then.” I rushed off the phone just in case Mark changed his mind. I think he was saying something but I had already rung off. Something I have the bad habit of doing…which really drives Frankie and anyone who knows me crazy.

I wonder if Frankie is awake…

I’m beginning seriously to doubt that I’ll ever get over Frankie. Maybe I’m supposed to be the one to change him. Gwen will tell me that I’m like a car whose tires are stuck in the mud and just spinning and getting deeper entrenched in the ground. “You’ll never get away from him, Nat.”

March 15
6:30 p.m.

Today’s interview has gone very well. Although it did confirm their desperation. Every time the Personnel Committee would ask me a question, Mark jumped in and answered it for me.

“Let’s see. Are you a Christian?”

“She’s a pastor’s daughter.”

Let me point out right now that I know a lot of pastors’ daughters who are anything but.

“What church are you affiliated with?”

“She goes to her father’s church. She’s a pastor’s daughter.”

“How do your background and skills fit into our church’s mission?”

“She’s been raised in the church, her father’s a pastor, and she’s a pastor’s daughter.”

I think the Personnel Committee got the picture too. As I said, desperation, my prayers, a richly decorated but totally truthful résumé (my friend’s mother ran an administrative course, and I had been at her house a few times so got a diploma), and Gwen’s sensible style, all got me this job.

I guess Tavish was not available to be at the interview as I didn’t see him anywhere around.

Not that I was looking for him or anything.

Forgot to mention—I start tomorrow.

11:59 p.m.

Actually, been thinking about it for a while.

I have no idea how I got this job.

I really don’t. It’s almost midnight and I’m here in bed still trying to figure it out. How? I can’t even type! I think I was almost hoping I wouldn’t get the job because I’m afraid they’ll find out that I don’t know anything about being a secretary. But I got it.

God must have a really good plan. He must use all our desperation to propel us to where he wants us to be.

That…or I’m in big trouble…

Natalie Taylor
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