“Your resume looks like you’d be a good fit for our senior developer role.”
Diana shifted in her chair and held the phone close to her ear. This was Kat Cates from Glitter Games calling. Cody would be thrilled about the call. After all, they were the developers of his favorite video game.
“Let’s set up an interview,” Kat suggested. “How about next Tuesday?”
“Sure,” Diana replied. “I’d love to.” She’d never dream of playing the game herself. The job would be a poor cultural fit. The rest of the team would be young software engineers who played games themselves when they went home. They’d be closer in age to Cody and probably listened to the same music. Her son and his contemporaries were from another culture entirely.
Whether she liked working in technology or not, it paid. She was, after all, the divorced mom of one. She’d been out of work six months. Today, she dressed as though she’d gone to an office: sleek black pants and a red blouse. Might as well keep her spirits up.
Cody was skipping classes today. He’d missed a few days during the last couple of months though he wasn’t physically sick. He just hid in his room with the door closed. Diana had sent him to a doctor who’d prescribed an antidepressant. She wished it would hurry up and kick in. It could take up to two months, the doctor explained, but it had only been four weeks.
She stood in front of his door listening for the dings and explosions of Grand Larceny. Then she remembered that she’d taken it away because of the absences. There was missing homework, an essay that was now overdue for AP English. He kept swearing that he’d complete it immediately. So far, he hadn’t. “Lunch?” she asked, knocking.
No answer.
She went to the kitchen and made herself a turkey sandwich with coleslaw and Russian dressing. She made one for him as well and left it in the refrigerator.
Knocking again, she had to tell him. “Glitter Games called me for a job,” she announced.
The door flew open, and he stood in front of her in a freshly laundered blue shirt and gray sweatpants, a big grin on his face. “So, you’ll be coding for them?”
“Maybe.”
“When do you start?”
She laughed, “I haven’t even gone on the interview.” She’d spoken to him more than once about the violence in these games. Guns and bombs, even if they were virtual, weren’t a good influence. Once, he’d shown her the world of the game. It was a miniature city. Her son’s avatar could drive a car and board an elevated train. He could climb stairways in old buildings with green walls and open shadowy doors, not to mention jumping from roof to roof. She was impressed, though she didn’t like to admit it.
“Anything for lunch?” Cody asked.
“I made you a sandwich.” They moved to the kitchen table where she handed him his sandwich on a plate. Sitting across from him, she started to finish hers.
“It would be so great if you worked there!” Strands of coleslaw dangled from his mouth. At least he was eating.
They might not like her at the interview. After all, she was older. Any interest was good, though. She and Cody needed the money. What really mattered now was that her son looked happy for the first time in days, maybe even in a month. His clothes were clean, and his hair was combed.
“I’m going back to classes tomorrow,” he announced; “I’ve started the essay.”
“Glad to hear it.” He’d better be telling the truth this time. She finished her sandwich. Despite her misgivings, he’d get the game back if he followed through. If he did his homework, he could play, at least sometimes. She would speak to him again about the violence. Why didn’t he just read a book? Science fiction? Fantasy? That’s what she’d done at his age. But there had been a time when she didn’t do her homework, either.
“See what happens at the interview,” she said; “Then maybe we can celebrate.”
Maybe the antidepressant was starting to kick in.
Elizabeth B. Morse’s work has appeared in numerous literary magazines and anthologies. She won first prize for flash fiction in an issue of Cardinal Sins. Her full-length poetry collection, Unreasonable Weather, was published by Kelsay Books in 2025. A poem in this book was nominated for a Pushcart Prize.
