Saturday Afternoon

She had stopped jumping when her phone rang.
A year ago, every unknown number sent her heart racing—hope crackling like static in her chest. Now, after twelve months of polite rejections, silence, and the soft humiliation of “we’ve decided to move forward with other candidates,” she let the phone buzz twice before answering.
“Hello?”
“Hi, is this Mara Ellis? This is Claire from Northpoint Logistics. I’m calling to conduct your initial screening interview.”
Mara sat straighter on the couch, the one cushion that hadn’t flattened yet. Her resume was already open on her laptop, margins memorized from rehearsals that bordered on superstition.
“Yes—yes, absolutely. Thank you for calling.”
Claire’s voice was warm, practiced. They talked experience first. Leadership. Operations. The gaps.
Mara felt herself loosen. She spoke clearly, confidently—like the woman she’d been before layoffs and savings accounts that whispered warnings. She talked about teams she’d built, systems she’d fixed, crises she’d calmed. Claire laughed once, genuinely, at something Mara said about managing chaos with color-coded spreadsheets.
Then came the question.
“I see you’ve been out of work for about a year,” Claire said gently. “Can you tell me about that time?”
Mara exhaled. “I can,” she said. “I took the time to recalibrate. To figure out what I actually wanted instead of just surviving. I learned what kind of leader I am when I’m not afraid. I also learned humility, patience… and that I don’t want just any job. I want this one.”
There was a pause. Not the awkward kind. The thoughtful kind.
“That’s… exactly why I called you,” Claire said.
Mara’s hands began to shake.
“You’re moving forward,” Claire continued. “In fact, I’d like to recommend skipping the second round. The hiring manager will reach out by end of day to discuss an offer.”
Mara pressed her free hand to her mouth. Her eyes burned.
“Thank you,” she whispered. “You have no idea what this means.”
Claire hesitated. “Actually,” she said softly, “I might.”
There was another pause. Then Claire added, “I was laid off last year too. Eleven months. This role? My dream job. I start next Monday.”
Mara laughed through tears. Two women, meeting at the thin edge between before and after.
They wrapped up the call. Mara set the phone down carefully, as if it might shatter. She stood, paced, laughed once out loud to no one.
Then her email chimed.
Subject: Update on Your Application
Her heart stuttered.
She opened it.
Dear Mara,
Thank you for taking the time to speak with us today. While we were impressed with your background, we have decided to move forward with another candidate at this time…
The room tilted.
She read it again. Slowly. Carefully.
Another chime followed. Same sender. New subject.
Subject: Correction — Please Read Immediately
Her breath caught.
Dear Mara,
Please disregard the previous message. It was sent in error.
We are thrilled to move forward with you.
She sank back onto the couch, laughing and crying at once.
But the twist didn’t arrive until later that evening, when her phone rang again.
Unknown number.
“Mara Ellis?” the voice asked. “This is Northpoint Logistics. I’m calling because we’d like to discuss something unexpected.”
Her pulse quickened. “Okay…”
“There’s been a change,” the voice said. “The role you interviewed for? It’s still yours. But based on your screening… we think you’re better suited for a position that doesn’t exist yet.”
Mara frowned. “Doesn’t exist?”
“Not yet,” the voice said. “We’d like you to help build it.”
She closed her eyes.
A year ago, she would have begged for certainty. For safety. For any door that opened.
Now, standing at the edge of something undefined and entirely hers, she smiled.
“Yes,” she said. “I think I can do that.”
And for the first time in a year, the future didn’t feel like something that had passed her by.
It felt like something that had been waiting.