like a heap of wet rags. Before I can do anything though, a very squeaky door opens.
A little old lady comes out, using her walker as a support. If she were less than ninety years old, I would be shocked. She’s dressed in a head to toe black crepe dress and looks like something out of the turn of the century. She smiles anxiously at me.
“Are you Olivia, dear?” she says, rather loudly.
I tuck my hair behind my ear and nod. My cheeks heat. “Yes. I’m supposed to be here about the archivist position.”
The woman grimaces. “You’ll have to speak up, my dear. I’m afraid I’ve gone a bit deaf in the last few years.”
Unsure how loud to be, I lean closer to her and raise my voice. “I’m Olivia. I am here to be your archivist. It is nice to meet you!”
She closes her eyes, nods, and smiles. “I’m Margaret Morgan. It is a pleasure! If you’ll come inside, please, I’ve laid out tea for us.”
She seems very polished and polite, very starched too. As I follow her inside the house, I look with wide eyes at the grand foyer with a huge decorative staircase. Everything in here gleams, though the wood floors are a bit careworn and the brass staircase a bit tarnished. The inside of the house is still spotless, despite what I might have guessed from the outside.
Margaret heads to the right, through a set of heavy doors that have been propped open. Here I do a double take. Several very finely appointed couches and a couple of end tables are clustered around the fireplace. As promised, it looks as though tea has been set up for us.
Margaret hobbles over to one of the couches and sits down, gesturing for me to do the same. “Please, please. Take a seat.”
I sit down on the sofa closest to me, ignoring the plume of dust that rises from the couch. Margaret serves me finger sandwiches and some petit fours before relaxing with her own plate.
“Tell me about yourself!” she declares. “Have you a family, my dear?”
Coloring, I clear my throat. I’ll have to remember to speak up, which is sort of foreign for me. At least with strangers. Margaret does make me feel a little more comfortable than I would normally be in a job interview, though. “Just my brother, ma’am. I just graduated from Kean University and I would like to start work as an archivist…”
“Why should that be?” Margaret asks, biting into a petit four.
I have to think about that one. “Because I love old books and files, I guess. They are less demanding than most people I know…”
“You are quite right about that, Olivia.” The older lady chuckles into her teacup. “You know, I checked your references out and heard nothing but glowing positive reviews from your college.”
My cheeks color. She must’ve called the librarians at Kean University, then. I don’t want to say that they all thought I walked on water, but I will say that the ladies there did dote on me. “It’s nice to know that I was appreciated.” I pause, trying to think of an interview-appropriate question. “What are you looking for from an archivist, specifically?”
“What’s that?” she says, cupping a hand around her ear.
“I asked what you are looking for from an archivist!” I half-shout.
She sighs. “I’m afraid that the Morgan family has declined a great deal since we were at our height in the early 1930s. We don’t have much to offer in the way of salary, but I can offer room and board and a small stipend. Two hundred dollars a week, we will say. Plus, you’ll be getting firsthand experience archiving our records.”
She pauses. “But I must ask… what are you hoping to get out of archiving?”
I feel my cheeks heat. “If I can just get some experience, I can apply to work somewhere prestigious. It is my dream to do this job for the National Preservation Society, but there are actually a lot of jobs out there. They just go to… well… to be honest, they go to people with more experience or formal education than I have.”
Margaret makes a face. “Phooey! I have never had a formal education and I turned out to be the most well-learned of all of my siblings. Education isn’t something that I require. We can give you the experience you need.”
My eyes well up. Honestly, even a job that pays almost nothing is a thousand times better than working at