Authors: Jerry Byrum
Madison took little comfort squabbling over another runaway
problem that had festered because D.R. was not responsible with the company.
She fumed that she’d missed another special occasion with Selena, because of
him.
She thought of the heated discussion she’d had with Selena,
and regretted that she’d gotten upset with her. But even the strongest can
become weak.
8:00 a.m., Monday
Grand Opening Day for Romantic Renovations. The five CEO’s
had been in the office since 6:00 a.m. They’d been taking care of last minute
preparations before they started answering the phones sharply at eight. There
were already call-back messages that had been left, beginning on Sunday
afternoon and at all hours of the night.
When the clock hit eight, four of them started answering
live calls and scheduling on-site and office customer consultations. They
posted appointments by the hour on a master schedule on the wall. Ned continued
to go over the inventory of equipment and setup their company panel truck.
At ten o’clock Imogene said, “Ninety-eight percent of the
calls came from women. Ned? Ned, are you listening?”
He called from the back room, “Don’t rub it in.”
All five were ecstatic that the media coverage and the ad
had generated such a response.
Roscoe did some calculated guessing based on the phone
traffic, and projected they would be renovating within a couple of days. He was
elated.
When the phones slacked off a bit by noon, he went upstairs
to his loft to make a call. He put his speaker phone on.
The phone rang and the voice said, “Grace Foster Agency, how
may I help you?”
He said, “I’d like to speak with Ms. Foster, please.”
“Did you have a phone appointment with her?”
“No.”
“Her schedule is booked through next week. Would you like to
make an appointment?”
Roscoe thought a moment. “Well, my call won’t take that
long. Tell her that her favorite English student in her class of 1986 is
calling.”
The female voice on the other end cleared her throat, “Well,
okay, we can try that.” She put Roscoe on hold a good two minutes.
The phone picked up. A cheerful voice said, “This is Grace
Foster. Richard Greenway. I’m so glad to hear from you after all these years.”
Roscoe spoke quickly, “Ms. Foster, please don’t hang up. I’m
not Richard, but I was in your class.”
Her voice was crisp. “Then who is this?”
“I’m D.R. Fallington, but please don’t hang up. This is
important.”
There was a pause.
“Well, this is a shocker. You definitely were not my star
English student, and it looks like you’re still up to your deceptive pranks.”
Her chuckle brought back memories to Roscoe.
“Yes, ma’am, you’re right, but I’m trying to behave.”
The puzzle showed in her voice. “But why are you calling?
I’m not going to change your failing grade in English.”
Roscoe laughed. “Yes, I know. Too late for that.”
“How did you know to contact me?
“Yesterday, I went to the Saratoga graduation—”
She cut him off. She couldn’t resist, “Yours?”
Roscoe laughed. “No, but while I was there I heard a couple
of people mention that you had started your own literary agency in Charlotte. I
found your impressive website, and decided to call you.”
“Don’t tell me you’ve written a book?”
“No, but I read one.”
“You’ve read one book and you need an agent?”
Roscoe laughed, as he remembered Ms. Foster’s wit from high
school English. When he stopped laughing, he said, “I know I was one of your
worst students, but you were one of the best teachers at Saratoga. We all loved
you, but many of us were too immature to appreciate you. And your wit brings
back so many memories.”
There was a catch in her voice. “Oh, D.R., you’re very kind
to say that. We all develop at different times, and it took me a while to learn
that. Okay, let’s get down to real business. Tell me about your book. What kind
did you read?”
He took a deep breath. “A romance novel by a student who
graduated yesterday. I admit I haven’t read much of anything since college, but
this book held my attention, and I was told that not many men read romance.”
“True. Did a relative of yours write the novel?”
“No. A friend wrote it.”
“Why isn’t she calling me instead of you?”
“She finished her manuscript while in the hospital. Her
health worsened, and she asked me to see if I could get it published.”
“Well, did she…die?”
“No, but she came close. She’s recovering, going to be just
fine, but I thought I’d go ahead and see if I could contact you. Explore some
of the first steps. She won the creative writing and the community service
awards yesterday.”
Ms. Foster pondered aloud, “I know the school has continued
to maintain high standards for the writing award.” There was a pause. “Can you
get me the first three or four chapters, or the first fifty or so pages?”
“I can email or print it out. It’s a Microsoft document,
will that work?”
“Perfect. Attach it to an email to me. I’ll take a look at
it. I’m swamped, but I’ll make sure it gets to the top of the pile of
manuscripts.”
“Thank you Ms. Foster. I’ll send it as soon as we hang up.”
“Before you go, what are you doing these days?”
“I started a new business this morning with four other
co-workers. Today is Grand Opening.”
“What’s the name of your business?”
Roscoe paused. “Romantic Renovations.”
She thought a long moment. “Good luck, D.R., I’ll look for
your email.” When she ended the call, she sighed, and said, “Romantic
Renovations my foot? Duped again by practical joker, D.R. Fallington. Humph.
Guess I’ll know if I receive the email.”
Two weeks later
Romantic Renovations had been swamped with calls, and
projects were booked two months out. Roscoe worked out an agreement with the
bank to finance a major portion of individual renovations, with the lowest
interest rates in town. That opened up another flow of business.
The company hired three more people, Ned’s girlfriend,
Nadine, a former Hispanic classmate of Imogene’s, also a design graduate,
Helena, and a former co-worker of Jerome’s. All three, high-energy, productive
workers.
Roscoe had paced himself, but worked side-by-side, as
needed, learning from each person. As he’d gotten back to his normal energy
level, he no longer faked foot problems. He was now able to toss lumber and
handle sheet rock like a pro.
Jerome and Ned approached him during lunch break. “Hey, Boss
man, listen up. Remember that hidden stairwell at the backside of your loft?”
“Yeah, let it stay hidden.”
“No. Uh…the three women folks around here came up with an
idea, and all the guys agree. Jerome and me went up on the roof and checked it
out. Billy double-checked the cost estimate, and with scraps and job remnants,
we can build you a rooftop place to relax, when you ain’t working.”
Roscoe rolled his eyes. “And when would that be?”
Laughter erupted.
Helena spoke up, “It would be your romantic oasis.”
Imogene presented him with rough sketches and layouts. “Use
your imagination. Starlit night, patio torches, landscaped with giant planters
of natural greenery and flowers that surround comfortable lounges, with you and
a special female companion. Can’t get any better than that.”
Roscoe chuckled. “And when were you thinking of doing all
this?”
Billy said, “Most of our projects are on schedule. We could
probably finish up our days here by spending an hour or so. We could knock it
out in a few weeks.” He paused. “The original builders had something in mind
for that roof. They installed heavy duty supports, and you’ve already got a
three and a half-foot tall ledge with intermittent six-inch openings. Gives you
some privacy, but you can watch the neighborhood develop.”
Jerome added, “Plumbing would be a breeze coming up the back
inside wall. We could build something like a cabana-tiki bar. Dandy place for a
private cookout.”
Roscoe shook his head. “You guys are going to corrupt me,
but go ahead, as long as it doesn’t hold back our scheduled projects.”
A round of applause.
He added, “But be sure you provide the female companion.”
Madison was relieved to finally have normal work days.
Fallington Enterprises seemed to be on course for a profitable year. She’d continued
with in-house training. D. R’s. former bedmate-threesome had blossomed as
business women. She was giving them more responsibility.
She gave more time to speaking engagements in the business
circles, locally and regionally, but made sure she was home at the end of the
day. She and Selena enjoyed meals out, along with some shopping time.
Occasionally there would be a flare-up of verbal friction between the two.
Selena had resumed her tutoring through her church program.
She checked the mail each day looking for an acceptance letter from one of the
colleges she’d applied to. Because her health status had been touch-and-go
through the spring, she was hoping for last minute alternate acceptance.
Her friendship with Trevor had grown closer. One day Trevor
was working a short lab schedule; she went with him and visited with the
nursing staff, letting them know again how much she appreciated the care they
gave her, while hospitalized.
She checked her watch, and started back to meet up with
Trevor on the laboratory floor. “Hey, I’m headed for the elevators. I’ll walk
with you. I’m Gaynell, I came on the nursing staff right after your transplant.
I was on another wing, but I’d heard all about the miraculous last minute donor
kidney your received.”
Selena glanced at her. “Oh, really?”
“From what I hear, that was quite a night in surgical.”
Selena’s interest grew. “Like what?”
Gaynell giggled. “Lots of hospital drama, you know, like
equipment failures, power outages. But one thing everyone agrees on is that the
donor is really a nice person.”
Selena’s head turned as they continued toward the elevators.
“Do you know the donor?”
“No, but I’ve heard they know.” Gaynell gestured back to the
nurses’ station.
Downstairs as Trevor came through the lab door, Marilyn caught
him by the arm. “I saw your lab work on that kidney transplant a few weeks
back. Great job! And I also heard that you really shook loose the hospital
hierarchy with your presentation in that special staff meeting.”
He groused, “I told you it was a hypothetical unimportant
project that I was going to include in my research portfolio.”
She said, “That’s not what Supervisor Simmons thinks. She’s
been using it in some of her mini-training sessions.”
He snapped. “Then she’s crazy, and so are you for listening
to her.”
Marilyn stepped back, “Well, excuse me, I was just trying to
pay you a compliment, but I guess you’re too above that with your new
promotion.” She glanced Selena up and down, looked back at him. “This your
latest girlfriend?”
Before he could respond, she said, “You still owe me for
missing my birthday bash.” She vanished through the door.
He started walking. “Let’s go.”
Selena said, “No. Wait a minute. Why were you snapping at
her?”
“Because she’s a pest, an aggravating pest!”
“Why are you snapping at me?
He ran his hand across his face. “Damn it, Selena, I feel
like I’m being interrogated about stuff that’s either not important or over and
done with.”
“I see.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Now look who’s asking questions.”
They walked to the car in silence.
“Halfway back to Selena’s home, she asked, “Were you on duty
the night of my transplant?”
He schooled himself to remain calm. “Yes. Pretty busy
night.”
“Did you have anything to do with my transplant that night?”
He formed his answer carefully. “My duties were concerned
with technical problems, nothing involving patients.” He thought,
Technically
my assigned hospital duties were with technical equipment, but there is no need
to mention to Selena that I was a rogue technician on the loose and enjoying
every minute of it on that stormy night
. “It was one hellacious night with
little glitches, nothing major though.” He reeled off some of the problems,
“…and then one of the bedside monitors of the seventh floor went out. The nurse
on duty panicked, forgot to push the reset button, just stuff like—”
Out of nowhere, “Do you know the donor of my kidney?”
Reflexively his foot triggered the gas pedal. “Selena, I’m
not privy to that kind of patient information. That is not in my realm, and I
just don’t go there. I work with the doctors and nurses. I respect their turf.
I’m focused on what I do. It’s all I can do to keep up with college, working
the long hours I do.” He thought,
Technically accurate, but not a straight
answer
.
“Thanks ever so much, Trevor, for that very comprehensive
response. You are just full of useful information.” She gave him a fake smile.
They neared her neighborhood, before she spoke again. “Do
you like her?”
“Who?”
“Marilyn.”
He pulled through the entrance gate, parked in a shaded space,
and turned to her. “Selena, you’re the only woman I like, if you’ll let me.”
She slumped and sighed. “I know. I’m sorry for being so
inquisitive about everything. I just have a need to know things.”
He drove away thinking about all the ‘things.’”
Tuesday Morning
Madison eased her gleaming white LaCrosse Buick out on the
highway. She still felt uncomfortable driving a luxury car, after so many years
with junkers. And sometimes she felt completely out of character rising from a
hardworking gofer to a hardworking CEO. Adjustments are hard.