Chapter 2 - What She Left Behind
At seven the next morning, Renée was sitting alone in her office with a cup of coffee she'd forgotten to drink.
The Southside Skills training center occupied a converted warehouse south of downtown Atlanta.
Its offices had mismatched furniture, the heating system rattled in cold weather, and the break room refrigerator made a noise that sounded like an exhausted lawn mower.
But on the workshop floor, eighteen training stations were arranged beneath bright industrial lights.
Every station represented a possibility.
A young parent earning a living wage.
A former retail worker learning a trade.
Someone who'd spent years being told they weren't qualified finally discovering what their hands and mind could do.
Renée had helped build this program.
That was something she was genuinely proud of.
She opened the grant proposal again.
The Atlanta Mobility Trust had been considering a $420,000 commitment to expand their automotive technology apprenticeship program.
If approved, the money would purchase training equipment, support instructors, and allow more students to receive paid placements.
Without it, the next intake might be postponed.
She checked her phone.
No message from Malcolm.
She wasn't sure why she'd expected one.
“Morning.”
Anita Foster appeared in the doorway.
At fifty-three, Anita had the controlled expression of a woman who had spent two decades keeping nonprofit organizations alive through budget cuts and unpredictable donations.
“You look terrible,” Anita said.
“Thank you.”
“Did something happen last night?”
Renée considered lying.
Instead, she closed her laptop.
“I know Malcolm Hayes.”
Anita raised an eyebrow.
“The trustee?”
“We used to date.”
“Oh.”
“For almost four years.”
Anita slowly sat down opposite her.
“That sounds complicated.”
“It ended badly.”
“How badly?”
Renée looked toward the workshop through the glass window.
Ten years earlier, Malcolm had been working nights for a local transportation company while trying to develop a better system for coordinating commercial repair schedules.
His mother, Lillian, had recently suffered a stroke.
Medical appointments, insurance disputes, and household expenses consumed nearly every dollar he earned.
Renée had loved him.
She had also been terrified.
As a child, she'd watched her own mother move them between relatives' homes after her father lost job after job.
She remembered packing clothes into black garbage bags.
She remembered pretending a motel room was an adventure because her mother couldn't bear to tell her the truth.
By twenty-six, Renée had promised herself she'd never live that way again.
Malcolm, meanwhile, kept postponing their plans.
The apartment they wanted.
The wedding they discussed.
The future he insisted was coming.
Every month seemed to bring another emergency.
And finally, after a particularly difficult evening, Renée had said something she couldn't take back.
“I can't build my whole life around somebody else's emergencies.”
Malcolm had been standing in his mother's kitchen.
He hadn't shouted.
He'd simply asked, “Are you talking about my mother?”
Renée hadn't answered.
Three days later, she'd moved out.
For years she told herself it was the sensible decision.
Sometimes she even believed it.
“Renée?”
Anita's voice brought her back.
“Does this history affect our application?”
“It shouldn't.”
“That's not what I asked.”
Renée swallowed.
“I was unkind to him last night.”
Anita waited.
“I saw him outside the hotel. I made comments about his clothes. His money.”
“You did what?”
“I thought he was still struggling.”
Anita stared at her.
“And then?”
“Then he got into a Bugatti.”
For several seconds, Anita said nothing.
Finally, she rubbed her forehead.
“Renée, the problem isn't that he owns an expensive car. The problem is that you treated somebody disrespectfully because you thought he didn't.”
Renée lowered her eyes.
“I know.”
“Do you?”
Before Renée could answer, a young woman knocked on the office door.
It was Simone Lewis, one of their most promising trainees.
“Sorry to interrupt. The instructor said the new diagnostic machine might be delayed again.”
Renée stood.
“I'll check on it.”
Simone hesitated.
“Does that mean the next class won't start?”
Renée looked at the young woman's worried face.
Simone worked evening shifts at a grocery store and took two buses to training every morning.
She had already begun encouraging her younger brother to apply.
“We're still working through the funding,” Renée said.
Simone nodded, but the disappointment was visible.
After she left, Renée looked at Anita.
“We need that grant.”
“Yes,” Anita replied. “But not at the expense of our integrity.”
Renée reopened the proposal.
One figure caught her attention.
Twenty-four apprenticeship placements.
She knew the workshop was currently approved to operate only eighteen.
The additional stations depended on equipment that hadn't been installed yet.
For months, she had presented twenty-four as the program's planned capacity.
She had assumed the difference would be resolved before anyone came to inspect it.
May you like
Now Malcolm Hayes was coming to see the workshop himself.
And for the first time, Renée wondered whether her determination to appear successful had followed her into the very work she cared about most.
