by Robyn Carr
“I don’t see how,” she said. “He’s not even friendly with my coworkers. No one in our department is important enough to do him any good.”
“But is this something he would do if he could? Cost you your job?”
“I don’t know. I don’t see how.” She blinked a few times. “What should I do?”
“Well, I’ll do what I can, but I don’t have much influence. Right now, before it actually comes to pass, I have zero power and could lose my job just for defying direct instructions not to tell you. So for now, we’re both going to have to be clandestine as all hell and keep a good poker face. I don’t know who knows. I got my instructions from the VP of marketing. He doesn’t know any particulars. I argued this was insane, that of everyone in product development you were probably the least likely to be terminated. You’re going to have to be so stoic this week.”
“Maybe I should call in sick...”
“Take a couple of short days if you want to—no one would notice. Everyone is sneaking out to see their kids’ holiday activities from classroom parties to Christmas concerts. You should contact a lawyer and think, Lauren. Think if you can connect the dots. Somebody has a personal vendetta. I might be crazy but I don’t know anyone in our division with that kind of influence. When it happens, you should be ready to fight it.”
“Just what I need,” she said. “Another lawyer.”
“When I think of someone losing her job right before Christmas, I think this is personal and vengeful. Don’t you?”
“If I worked in the medical field, he could probably easily sabotage my employment. But the food industry? It’s not like he socializes with—Okay, this is crazy. Didn’t Sylvie Emerson sit on our board of directors about five or six years ago?”
Bea was shaking her head. “Lauren, I haven’t kept track of board members. I’m not high enough in the food chain to pay attention. What would that have to do with anything?”
“Brad thinks of himself as a friend to Andy Emerson. But I honestly can’t imagine either Andy or Sylvie...” She shook her head. “That just doesn’t come together in my head. They’re good people. When I told Sylvie about the divorce, she was very frank. Brad never fooled her. She isn’t fond of him. She wouldn’t do him a favor. Especially a favor like this.”
“Maybe you should talk to her,” Bea said. “Just keep your source out of it for now.”
“I can do that. Now that I’m separated, Sylvie and I see each other regularly.” She stood. “I think we’d better have that wine.”
“I don’t know,” Bea said. “I should get out of here before that young man brings you dinner.”
“Don’t leave on account of Beau,” Lauren said. “I’ve known him quite a while but we started seeing each other recently. He’s nothing like Brad. Let’s have a glass of wine and see if the grape brings any ideas to the surface.”
“Just a small one,” Bea said. “I’ve been racking my brain...”
“I’m not going to let Merriweather toss me on the trash heap,” Lauren said. “I’ve never had a bad report or been disciplined in over a dozen years. I’ve been a loyal and trustworthy employee.”
“I vouch for that,” Bea said, sitting up on one of the stools at the breakfast bar. “I’m sorry this is happening, Lauren. Divorce can get so ugly.”
“I’m learning that.”
When Bea was leaving about forty minutes later, Lauren handed her a centerpiece. “Merry Christmas,” she said. “I had intended to bring you one this week.”
“Thank you,” she said. “I’ll treasure it. I’m devastated. After all these years of knowing each other, our friendship came so recently. I can’t bear this.”
“No matter what happens this week, we will stay friends. And now you know how to find my house.”
* * *
Going to work every day was a terrible strain, but Lauren managed to keep from letting on that she knew. If she had not had Beau to talk to, to sleep with, it would have been so much harder. On Thursday afternoon she left early and went by a local flower shop and bought their greenery scraps for a pittance. She made a long thin centerpiece that would fit on Sylvie’s dining table. She texted her, not knowing what Sylvie’s holiday schedule might be, and said that she thought she might have Friday afternoon free and wondered if she could stop by.
Sylvie Emerson returned the text and asked Lauren to please stop by.
And right on schedule, as promised, the head of Human Resources came to her office with a couple of assistants and explained that for budget considerations, Lauren’s position was being terminated. When Lauren asked, she was told no severance package was being offered, but she was entitled to unemployment insurance.
“You’re terminating me, without cause, and offering no severance or benefit package?” she asked.
“I’m very sorry,” the HR director said. “I’m just following instructions. If you plan to appeal, here are the steps you should consider taking.” And with an obvious nervous tremor, she handed Lauren a sheet of paper.
Lauren looked at the page with a list of suggestions, then looked at the director. Termination, no severance, no exit package, no benefits. This was somehow related to her divorce, it had to be.
“I’ll certainly take this into consideration. Thank you. Can you get me a cart to help me get my belongings to the car?”
“Absolutely,” the director said, relieved. “And my assistants will help you.”
Lauren sat in the parking lot of Merriweather Foods and called Beau. “It happened,” she said. “It really happened. No severance, no nothing. I was expecting it and yet I’m still stunned.”
“We’ll figure it out,” he said. “I’ve been researching and looking for good attorneys. Are you going home now?”
“No. I’m going to Sylvie’s house to give her a centerpiece. I was planning to do this anyway and now I’m going to ask her advice. She must know Merriweather, she once sat on their board of directors. Will I see you later?”
“Of course. Would you like to go out? Stay in?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “I’d like to cry but for some reason I can’t. Let me call you after talking to my friend.”
When Sylvie answered the door the first thing she said was, “Oh, how perfectly amazing!” referring to the greenery. When she heard what had happened to Lauren she said, “That’s just impossible! That was not how Merriweather treated employees! If it was, I would never have served on their board!” And finally she said, “Something is very wrong and I’m going to help you get to the bottom of this.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Christmas would be a negotiation from now on and Lauren accepted this. That’s how it is after divorce and with grown children who have coupled up.
Cassie and Jeremy flew in from Boston on Saturday; Christmas Eve was Monday. They came directly to Lauren’s house, moved their bags into the guest room and had a snack before going to Menlo Park where Jeremy’s family lived. “Do you have plans for tonight?” Cassie asked.
“I’m at your disposal,” Lauren said. “At some point we should talk about Christmas Eve and Christmas Day and where you’d like to spend them. We have a flood of invitations but I know you guys have to make plans with Jeremy’s family. But can I just tell you how thrilled I am that you’ll stay here? Thank you. I know that in the future I’ll share you with Jeremy’s family.”
“That’s probably true,” Cassie said. “But right now, when you haven’t been on your own for long and have gone through so much drama, we want to be here to support you.”
They indeed had piles of invitations. Beth wanted them all to come to her house on Christmas Day. Beau was hosting dinner on Christmas Eve and he’d told Lauren to please invite her daughters and Beth’s family. His boys, maybe their girlfriends and Tim would join them for ham and scalloped potatoes. Then Tim was going to attend midnight mass and anyone who wanted
to go along was welcome. Although Lauren hadn’t asked yet, she wondered if Cassie and Lacey had invitations from their father; she didn’t know if Beau’s boys had invitations from their mother.
“Can we have dinner together tonight?” Cassie asked. “Can you invite your new friend, Beau?”
“He’s already on standby and I’ve included his sons and their girlfriends. I’ve already made a very large chicken parm and am ready to throw a spinach salad and baguette at that. I haven’t figured out dessert.”
“What about Lacey?” Cassie asked. “Will you invite her?”
“I’m going to leave that with you,” Lauren said. “I haven’t talked to her about Beau and she hasn’t met him yet. If you decide you want to include Lacey tonight, please tell her she’ll be meeting my... Oh dear God, what should he be called? A gentleman friend?”
Cassie laughed. “You should relax. He’s the man you’ve been seeing the last couple of months. Am I right about that—couple of months?”
Lauren just nodded. “I don’t feel like a scene. It’s Christmas. Tell her to please come over if she’d like to meet my friend. If she’s pissy, I’m not in the mood.”
After a lovely dinner of chicken parmesan, Lauren reminded herself that every situation would be touch and go for a while. Everyone had come. Lacey looked like she’d been invited to the gallows. She was stiff and uncomfortable and somewhat grim. But Beau expressed how happy he was to meet her, Cassie and Jeremy welcomed her with hugs and Beau’s sons made her laugh. Then there was a fair amount of teasing from Drew and Michael about the new couple, Lauren and Beau.
Lacey seemed a little rigid in the beginning, trying not to like them, but in spite of herself she fell for them all. Beau and his sons were funny, charming and sweet. Not to mention attractive.
From that point on, the days were magical. Lauren spent every bit of time with Beau while Cassie split her time with Jeremy’s family and Lacey split her time with her father. Cassie did not receive an invitation from Brad and didn’t care. In fact she was relieved; she hadn’t heard from her father since August when she confronted him in his office. Nor had he offered her any help with law school.
On Christmas Eve everyone except Lacey went to midnight mass in Mill Valley where Father Tim assisted Father Damien for the last time. By now the word had gotten out and he was seen hugging parishioners, and telling them that he’d be taking calls and visiting with anyone who wanted to see him for another two weeks. He encouraged anyone with questions to call his cell phone.
In the wee hours of Christmas morning, after midnight mass, Lauren and Beau were alone in Lauren’s living room. Cassie and Jeremy had gone to bed. Michael was staying overnight at Beau’s house and Beau had gamely told them not to wait up. In this little bit of time alone at Lauren’s, they exchanged gifts. Beau had a wrapped gift for her and she opened it to find a most beautiful diamond pendant on a platinum chain. “I can’t put a ring on your finger but I can show you how I feel with this.”
“Beau... It’s so beautiful!”
“Let me,” he said, pulling it out of the box to fasten it around her neck. He looked at it for a moment, then treated her to one of his best kisses. “I wish you could wear this to bed,” he whispered against her lips. “This and nothing else.”
She laughed softly. “We might have to wait until company is gone...”
“I don’t know if I can last that long,” he said.
“I don’t know if I could have made it through this holiday without you,” she said. “You and the boys—they were terrific, softening up Lacey.”
“Tim was good, too,” he said. “I hope he’s okay. I told him to call or text if he wanted to talk...”
“I have something for you,” she said, distracting him from Tim. She got up and went to the Christmas tree. She reached into the boughs and pulled out a long, slim envelope.
He smiled as he took it. “We were going to go easy since we don’t have any idea what kind of finances...”
She touched her pendant. “You forgot,” she said, smiling.
He opened the envelope. There was a lovely card inside and some folded pages in the card. He unfolded them to find a printout of airline tickets and an itinerary—San Francisco to Victoria, British Columbia, leaving on Valentine’s Day. He was speechless and just stared at her in wonder.
“The gardens, Beau. They’re beautiful all winter and your busy season really kicks in in March. Someday, when things settle down, we’ll also go in spring.”
He pulled her close. “I guess you forgot you’re unemployed at the moment.”
“Oh, who could forget that,” she said with a laugh. “But I saw the travel agent before I was fired, thank God. We’ll figure it out. I don’t know how, but we’ll figure it out. Just hold me.”
* * *
It was almost two in the morning by the time Tim exited the rectory and went to the truck parked in the small lot behind the house. He tossed a small duffel into the truck bed, jumped into the passenger side and looked at the pretty woman in the driver’s seat. “Would you like me to drive?” he asked.
“I can manage.”
“It’s a long drive...”
“I’m fine. How do you feel?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “If I tell you I feel a little lost, will you think I’m not sure of myself?”
“Are you sure of yourself?”
He leaned toward her. “Come here, Angela,” he said. When she leaned toward him, he slipped a hand around to the back of her neck and pulled her closer, covering her lips with his. He kissed her deeply, lovingly. “I’m sure of this,” he said against her lips.
“Woo,” she said, almost a sigh. “Merry Christmas.”
“There could be phone calls,” he said. “I think a few of my people are worried about losing touch, worried about where I’ll go and what I’ll do.”
“But are you worried?” she asked.
“No, it’s in God’s hands. I’ve known Him a long time and it’s been my experience that when you offer to be of service, your cup runneth over.”
She laughed at him and put the truck in gear. “You have no idea,” she said. “It’s never quite enough. I have ended every day for the last eight or ten years wondering how I could do more.”
“The woman with one can of cream-style corn,” he reminded her. He reached across the console and patted her thigh.
They were on their way to Lake Tahoe. He had reserved a nice room. They were going to drink some champagne, toast the future together and sleep in one bed. Their room would be ready early, when they arrived during the predawn hours. They’d planned a leisurely Christmas Day and night, then they would drive back to Oakland to the Velasquez house the day after Christmas. Tim would ask Senor Velasquez for his daughter’s hand in marriage. The Velasquez family were not his parishioners but he would explain that he had recently transitioned out of the priesthood and while he’d known Angela since he returned to Mill Valley—a few years now—they had not had a romance. Not until recently, when he was officially transitioning into the secular community.
“Are you sure it’s all right for you to do this?” she asked.
“Angela, I began the out-processing five months ago. If you’re talking about the archdiocese, they’ve known for months. I’m leaving them in good hands. Father Damien is young, energetic, driven and alive with the spirit.”
“My mother is going to faint,” she said.
“And your father?” he asked a bit nervously.
“I think he will not only grant permission, he might try to get you to the church long before you’re ready.”
“I wouldn’t worry too much about that,” he said. “I’m ready.”
Their plans had changed, but only slightly. They were still hoping to assist with the refugee program, but that might come later. For now they would be assisting Catholic charities as v
olunteers in Puerto Rico where there was still so much hunger and destruction after the terrible hurricane. And based on a wonderful recommendation from the Monsignor, they’d been accepted through the New York chapter and would be helped with lodging. That probably meant a room in someone’s house. One step at a time, one day at a time. At least we’re going forward together, Tim thought.
“Did you say something?” she asked.
“I didn’t think I said it out loud—Together.”
Sometime in the future, hopefully the not too distant future, they would blend their special skills to form the right kind of team. They weren’t sure which resource they would attach to—it could be one of any of the many wonderful organizations committed to easing hunger and disenfranchisement and pain. But they would find the right mission as a team.
“God, I’m so grateful for you,” he said.
“Dios, I’m about to spend the night with a priest,” she said.
He laughed. “Not exactly. Ex-priest.” And then he thought, it was a very good run. In twenty years he’d done some good. He’d had some rewarding experiences. And when Beau heard about this new adventure he was going to mess his pants, for sure. “Wait till I tell my best friend.”
“I thought you had!”
“No, I told him I was moving in a new direction. He’s going through a nasty divorce and I apologized and told him he might need me and my head could be elsewhere. I spent the evening before mass with him and his family. He has a very nice woman in his life and his sons seem to be supportive and in a stable place. I haven’t told him about you yet, but I don’t think it will surprise him. When I finally catch up with him and tell him everything that’s going on, he’s going to flip. I should be sure you’re with me. It’s fun watching Beau freak out.”
It was early in the morning but still dark when they got to Lake Tahoe. Tim asked for a champagne breakfast to be sent to the room. Then they sat in their hotel robes with their room service breakfast, curtains open to catch the rising sun in a couple of hours. They clinked glasses, fed each other small bites of omelet and crepes between kisses.
