Final Grains of Sand

by David Harder

  Tony stood up. “We’re intelligent adults, Doctor. I expect everyone in this room to be professional.” Tony observed the room to ensure everyone was in agreement. “Shall we head back to the conference room, Doctor?”

  Tom nodded, and the room filed out quietly. When they entered the conference room, Mike had his head down and hands folded on the table like he was praying. Interrupted, Mike looked up and feebly smiled. Standing, he nervously shoved his hands into his pants pockets and glanced at the floor. Tom patted Mike’s shoulder.

  “Are you prepared to move forward?”

  Mike looked up, sighed heavily, and lightly nodded. “I’m okay.”

  Everyone returned to their respective chairs.

  Mike remained standing and took a deep breath. “Folks, please accept my sincere apology. I believe my attitude was perceived as arrogance—something I sincerely regret. I humbly ask for your forgiveness.”

  No one spoke or moved for a long while, making the room feel uncomfortable. Dr. Nolan clenched his teeth, silently praying his speech had not fallen on deaf ears. Finally, Nate stood and reached out with his hand.

  “Reverend, with your words, you’ve earned my respect.”

  They firmly shook hands.

  “We’re good here, Mike,” Joe agreed.

  “Thank you, Joe.”

  “Minister, it takes a man with character to admit he is wrong. When he does it publicly, and in front of a room such as this, you demonstrate courage,” Tony said.

  “Thank you, Tony.”

  “Reverend, I will reflect in kind the courtesy and respect shown,” said Arleen.

  “Fair enough, Arleen.” Mike bowed his head toward Ms. Chenair. “Madam, please accept my humble apology.”

  “But, of course.”

  Tony stood up and rubbed his flat palms together. “Excellent work, people—this is probably a good time for lunch.” Tony picked up the telephone receiver and dialed a number. “Hello, Betty, I believe we’re ready for lunch.

  “Yes, that would be excellent. Thank you.”

  “Great, I’m starved!” Joe proclaimed as the room filled with light laughter.

  * * *

  1 Matthew 11:29

  2 Matthew 19:26

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  “AFTER WE’RE FINISHED TODAY, ARLEEN, would you have time to meet concerning a business matter?” whispered Nate while sitting next to Ms. Chenair.

  Arleen smiled. “Of course, Nate. Our meeting has been expected.”

  With lunch consumed, Tony felt the room was in a pleasant mood. When the catering crew entered the conference room to clean up, Joe was still eating. He hurriedly refilled his plate before the food was whisked away. The room watched Joe with fascination, but clearly, he was unaware of the attention.

  Tony rubbed his flat palms together. “Okay, folks, is everyone is ready to begin?”

  The members in unison stared at Joe, who was still shoveling food into an open mouth. He looked up in silence.

  “Perhaps we may continue while Joe is finishing his lunch?” Tony didn’t wait for a response to his rhetorical question. “Mary, please read the last statement made by the minister for us.”

  Mary hesitantly reached into the tray but cast her eyes toward Mike, silently seeking his permission. With the slightest perception, Mike nodded his approval, completing their non-verbal communication.

  “As I was saying, Jim was distraught over Samantha’s death. He didn’t utter one word to me during the funeral service. I also noticed Jim didn’t cry—which is quite strange. I gave an eloquent service and received comments to that effect from several of the attendees.”

  “Could we strike the last sentence?”

  “Don’t worry, Mike. Outside this room, you are the only person who will view these written words. Do you have enough information to continue your story, or shall I have Mary read more?”

  “No, I’m fine. Thanks. I must admit, I was also surprised by the lack of our church members who attended Samantha’s service. Until you mentioned it, Joe, I hadn’t paid attention to that detail. It is an error I wish hadn’t happened.”

  “Hopefully, we learn from our past mistakes and move forward, Mike,” encouraged Nate.

  “Yes, thank you, Nate. Efforts to have Jim talk about Samantha’s death was fraught with obstacles. Every time I brought the subject up, he dismissed it immediately. Jim would then talk about the weather, sports scores, or his children. In situations such as this, training teaches us not to confront the individual but to let them arrive to the discussion on their own and in their own timing. Grief takes time and affects everyone differently.

  “As Nate mentioned earlier, Jim was proud of all three of his children. Granted, he didn’t like some of their individual choices, but for the most part, he loved them completely.”

  “I’m curious—what gave you the impression he loved his children?” Joe asked.

  “Well, Joe, on occasion, Jim would break down and get emotional when describing the frustrating circumstances surrounding one child or another. To me, this says the man cared deeply and had compassion. He was passionate concerning their individual situations. He was also wise enough to recognize that he could not force or control their lives.”

  “I’m all too familiar with that scenario,” said Tony.

  Mike nodded.

  “When Jim and I were together, I struggled to provide an open space for his confessions, but Jim guarded his innermost feelings. I got the impression he wanted to say more but didn’t for reasons I couldn’t understand at the time. In retrospect, I’m beginning to understand his situation better.

  “I need to ask, Tony, have Jim’s children been contacted?”

  “They have, Minister. I have some information to share regarding the subject, but it will wait until you’re finished.”

  “I’m almost finished, Tony. During the last six months, Jim’s presence in the church was infrequent. It didn’t concern me because I’ve watched others who have experienced similar family loss. They rarely attend or quit altogether, only to return later. When Jim stopped attending, I have to admit that I didn’t notice because we have a large church. That’s not an excuse, but the reality of my situation.”

  “Reverend, I mean no disrespect,” interrupted Arleen. “And I’m basing this on your information, but it seems your relationship with James was mostly superficial?”

  Mike looked down and softly spoke. “I’m sorry to admit this, but you are correct, Arleen. I wish I had done things differently. When I look back, I wish I had been aware of Jim’s illness, but when I look around this room, I see everyone else had the same idea. Jim was too young, and it seems his last couple of years had been beset with troubles.”

  Dr. Nolan noted the pastor’s melancholy mood. “I think I can speak for everyone in this room, but we could have done a better job.”

  After a lengthy pause, Mike looked up at Tony.

  “I think that’s everything, but I’d like permission to add further comments should the occasion arise.”

  “Oh, absolutely. In fact, and this applies to everyone, if you find you forgot something, please feel free to speak up. Mary, should this scenario occur, please ensure the additional comments are delegated to the individual reports.”

  Mary curtly nodded. “Yes, sir.”

  “Thank you, Reverend. This seems like a good breaking point, so I’d like to bring everyone up to date regarding Jim’s children. First off, we owe an enormous thanks to Nate, Jim’s employer, for providing traveling arrangements and lodging.”

  The people in the room nodded approvingly.

  “I was successful in reaching all three of Jim’s children and provided them with the details concerning their father’s untimely passing. Since all three are in college at the moment, I felt having the service during their Thanksgiving break would minimize the impact on their studies.

  “All three children had the impression they would stay in Jim’s house, but the property had been sold earlier.
They’re grateful, Nate, that your company is handling this aspect of the service. I’ll be meeting with them here in my office a few days prior to the service to share Jim’s prepared will. If everyone agrees, may we schedule the service for the Saturday before Thanksgiving?”

  Again, the folks around the table nodded in agreement.

  Dr. Nolan raised his hand slightly. “With the prior tentative agreement to use our church, I’d like to confirm with our pastor regarding the actual date.”

  “That would be terrific, Tom. Now, before we turn the room over to the good doctor, does anyone else have any further comments?”

  Tom raised his hand again.

  “Go ahead, Doctor.”

  “When James became ill, he asked me to not contact his family, and I honored his request. However, this may be the time to bring up the subject. You see, James has two living brothers—one older and one younger. They had an older brother who passed away while serving in the Army in Vietnam. I believe I may have the contact information for each sibling and would like the opportunity to communicate with them myself.”

  “Oh, by all means, please. Jim left me a contact page as well, and I can share this with you later.” Tony was instantly relieved after the disastrous attempts with Jim’s children.

  Nate began shifting in his chair and checking his watch.

  Tony smiled. “You look like you need to say something, Nate.”

  “I’m afraid I need to request a break for the rest of the day. I regret having to interrupt the flow, but work demands my attention. I should have mentioned it sooner, but—”

  Tony hid his disappointment. “We understand, Nate.” Tony looked at the faces sitting around the table and saw relief. “Shall we begin afresh tomorrow at ten in the morning?”

  “Thank you, Tony.”

  The lawyer just smiled. Slowly, the room began to empty. Nate stepped closer to Arleen and spoke in hushed tones.

  “May I have my secretary call you later and set up a time when we can meet this evening?”

  “But, of course, Nate.” Arleen reached into her purse and produced a business card. She wrote down her cell number on the card and handed it to Nate. “Shall I know the approximate hour for this meeting?”

  Nate smiled. “I can assure you, madam, this is strictly business-related, but would you care to join me for dinner?”

  Arleen was cautious. “Perhaps.”

  Joe slapped the shoulder of Mike, startling the minister. “Great job, Mike. Thanks for being honest, finally.”

  Mike just frowned. “Thank you, Joe. I’m trying to do my best.”

  “Pastor, I have to agree with Joe,” said the doctor.

  “Thank you, Doctor.”

  As Tony watched everyone leave the room, he could see the individuals were slowly changing into a cohesive group. Maybe this would work after all.

  * * *

  Nate reached into his desk drawer and pulled out the Chanel S.A. folder and arranged it for reviewing. He re-read the report from Finance regarding the account activity and made some notes. Just as before, Nate couldn’t see the reasons behind the red flags going off inside his head concerning Jim’s handling of the account. In his gut, Nate knew something was amiss, but, somehow, he was not finding it. He stood and walked over to his window, taking his usual stance.

  As Nate closed his eyes, he reviewed the documents again, looking for something, and then it hit him. He opened his eyes wide and darted for his desk, snatching the folder up. He smiled.

  “Jim, you scoundrel. Very clever—in fact, brilliant.”

  Grabbing his pen, Nate furiously jotted down notes while scanning the folder and the financial report. He couldn’t believe he had almost missed it.

  Nate chuckled to himself. Picking up his phone, he dialed a number.

  “Hello, Michelle. Did Jim Kreider keep copies of his expense reports at his desk?”

  “No, Mr. Martin, but he did ask if I would hold them for him. I have all his expense reports here with me at my desk.”

  “It’s Nate, Michelle, please.”

  “Okay, Nate. What shall I do with Mr. Kreider’s files?”

  “Michelle, do me a favor and have one of the interoffice couriers bring the files up to my office.”

  “If it’s okay with you, I’m on my way to see Katherine, and I could drop them off with her.”

  “That would be terrific, Michelle, but only if it’s not inconvenient.”

  “No problem, sir. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

  “Thanks.”

  After hanging up the phone, Nate walked over to the window and looked down into the street. Several floors below his office, cars and people were moving in silence, like ants marching off to unknown responsibilities. Massaging his newfound information, Nate contemplated his next move, wondering if Arleen was involved in Jim’s scheme.

  With his arms crossed, Nate could feel something in his shirt pocket. He reached into the pocket and pulled out Arleen’s business card. Walking back to the desk, Nate punched another button.

  “Hello, Katherine. Michelle is on her way up and bringing me a set of files from Jim Kreider’s office. Please bring them to my office immediately. Also, I need to arrange a dinner meeting. I’ll provide the details when you deliver the files.”

  “Yes, Mr. Martin. Anything else?”

  “No, that will do for now. Thanks, Katherine, you’re a—”

  “Yes sir, I know, I’m a peach.”

  Nate smiled. “Yes, you are.” He then hung up the phone. Closing the Chanel S.A. folder, Nate dropped it into his drawer and laid the financial report and his notes on top. A few moments later, there was a soft knock on his office door. Katherine poked her head in.

  “Is this an ideal time, Mr. Martin?

  “Terrific, Katherine, come on in.”

  Katherine carried a large stack of folders about twelve inches thick. “Here are the files you requested.” She set them on the corner of Nate’s desk. She had a small pad and pen in her hand. “You wanted a dinner date, Mr. Martin?”

  “You know that expensive place on the corner of Fourteenth and Broadway?”

  “You mean Le Cardon?”

  “Yes, that’s it.” Nate looked at his watch. “Please make reservations for two at six-thirty tonight. Tell them I’d like a private, quiet area, where we may discuss business.”

  Katherine jotted down some notes and looked up, waiting.

  “Thank you, Katherine. That will be all for now. By the way, you may leave early tonight. I’m nearly finished here.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Martin. Have a good evening, and enjoy your dinner.”

  Katherine didn’t hesitate but turned and left Nate alone. Once his office door closed, Nate took out Arleen’s card and dialed her number. The call rang four times, and Nate was about to hang up.

  “Bonjour, Monsieur Nate.”

  Nate was taken back. “How did you know, Arleen?”

  “I recognized the number.”

  Then it dawned on Nate. All company outbound calls are routed through the main switch, so the caller identification was always the company’s primary phone number. “Would dinner at six-thirty work with your schedule?”

  “Where would you like to meet?”

  “Are you familiar with Le Cordon at the corner of Fourteenth and Broadway?”

  “Of course, it is famously French.”

  “Terrific, shall I arrange for transportation?”

  “No problem. Until we meet at six-thirty.”

  “I look forward to the opportunity. Goodbye.”

  “Adieu, Monsieur.”

  Again, Nate pulled the Chanel S.A. folder out and placed it on the desk. Then reaching for the folder stack delivered by Katherine, Nate searched through the individual folders, looking at the dates. The folders were grouped by year, so Nate pulled only the expense folders which matched his search criteria. The rest he restacked on the corner of his desk.

  Sitting down, Nate began a systemized search of e
ach expense report, comparing the information found in the financial reports. Slowly, Nate spotted a pattern, and it matched his hunch. Grabbing a pen and his note sheet, Nate scribbled down his findings. Nate shook his head in disbelief. Speaking out loud, Nate exclaimed, “My goodness, Jim, what were you doing with all this money?”

  When Nate finished, he glanced at his watch, shocked to see that it was already six o’clock.

  Nate grabbed his jacket from the chair back, dropped the Chanel S.A. folder into a drawer, and tucked the financial report and his notes inside the jacket pocket. Nate then smoothed his hair back with flat palms and adjusted his tie. Walking to his office door, Nate paused, looked back at his desk and smiled. Turning out the light, Nate dashed for the elevator.

  * * *

  At six-thirty-five, the taxi dropped Nate off in front of the restaurant. After paying the cab fare, Nate took several quick strides, leaping up two steps at a time, and arrived slightly winded to the maitre d’ station. Again, Nate smoothed his hair back with flat palms.

  “Good evening, Mr. Martin. Your guest is waiting. Please follow me.”

  Nate tugged on the gentleman’s sleeve, stopping their journey.

  “Please have a double martini, neat, made with Reyka vodka and no vermouth brought to my table immediately.” Nate shoved a fifty-dollar bill into the gentleman’s hand.

  The man glanced down at the bill and quickly placed his hand into his pants pocket. Smiling, he replied, “Immediately, sir.”

  As they neared the table, Nate spotted Arleen waiting at a quiet table in the corner of the room. Despite her reddish-blonde hair, she proudly wore a bright red dress and a wide brim, white hat with a red band. Nate gave out a subtle whistle of exclamation.

  Taking her right hand, Nate leaned over and lightly kissed the back of Arleen’s hand. “Thank you for agreeing to meet, Arleen. You look absolutely stunning.”

  Arleen smiled and coyly glanced downward, turning her head and indicating her delighted embarrassment over Nate’s comment. Nate took his seat, and, incredibly, his martini appeared on the table, with the waiter instantly dissolving into the room. Nate deftly swooped the glass off the table and took a sip. Pausing to savor the liquid trickling down his throat, Nate then drained the martini glass. He smiled at Arleen, amazed that this lovely woman would have been attracted to Jim.