by Sloan Storm
I almost passed out. Collapsing into my chair, I felt my hands go clammy. With one hand wrapped firmly around the phone and the other in the form of a tense fist, I begged her for more details.
“Please tell me everything that’s going on, Julie.”
Sometime in the last twenty-four hours my grandmother’s condition had worsened to such an extent she hadn’t been able to sleep or eat. Not only that, but she was experiencing terrific pain. No sooner had Julie finished explaining things than she asked me a question that made my stomach sink.
“Miss Matthews, do you think there’s any way that you can come home?”
I leaned forward over my workstation. Sliding my palm across my forehead, I squeezed it tight as my hair fell down over my face.
“Julie, is there something you’re not telling me?”
She cleared her throat. “Well, it’s just that… your grandmother is very sick ma’am. I know that you realize how dire her situation is. There may not be much more time.”
I began shake my head. Peering up between strands of my hair, I looked around the mostly empty lab.
Whispering into the receiver, I replied, “No, no, no! She is not dying, Julie. Do you hear me? She is not dying!”
Julie’s voice fell silent. It was plain she’d told me what she thought I needed to hear. But instead of responding to my direct question, she reiterated her own.
“You didn’t answer me, ma’am. Can you come home, and if so, how soon do you think you can get here?”
No longer caring about whether or not my charade would be discovered, half an hour later I pulled into the parking lot of the hospital. This was one of those times when I would just have to deal with the fact that I’d lied.
But as soon as I saw my grandmother, it was obvious I wouldn’t have to worry about dealing with deception on my part. She’d been in and out of consciousness since she’d arrived at the hospital, and was completely unresponsive by the time I got there.
The entire drive over, I’d kept my sadness at arms’ length. But as I stood over her, the emotion began to overwhelm me. It was just her and me there alone in the room, as it had been for the last decade of my life, yet this time I wasn’t sure how much longer that would be the case. Reaching down, I slid my fingers through the thinning, fine gray hairs on top of her head.
For several minutes, I stroked them with soft glides.
“I’m so sorry, Grandmother,” I whispered. “I feel like I’ve failed you. I’ve been working so hard to try and fix things, but no matter how much I do, it all seems so much worse now.”
Frustrated though I was with my situation, she had, through her own stubbornness, made the situation far worse by refusing treatment. But in that moment, there was no room for anger in my heart, only the inevitable sickening feeling of loss. Just then, my tears began to flow, and for once I didn’t care to stop them.
Looking down, I noticed something had changed about her. Her face seemed exhausted, spent—as if signaling the fight was gone from her. As she slept, I stood over her for several minutes, crying and trying to imagine a future alone.
It wasn’t long after that one of her doctors paid a visit to the room and confirmed my worst fears. There was a very small chance that she might recover and be strong enough for another round of chemotherapy, but if she couldn’t pull through soon, then the inevitable would occur.
He offered me a strange mix of condolences and optimism before leaving the room. In a daze, I stared at the doctor as he opened the door and exited the room. No sooner had he finished delivering me the awful news than my phone vibrated in my pocket.
I sniffled, and with two quick wipes of my hand across my cheeks, I tried to collect myself. After the third ring, I pulled my phone out. Swiping my finger across the smooth surface, I read yet another text message from Gabe.
His patience had begun to wear thin. Claiming he’d done all he could to hold off the investors, he needed answers from me and he needed them soon. In a not so subtle way, he once more threatened me with my job if I didn’t deliver what I promised I would when I left the island.
Despondent, I shook my head and slid the phone back inside my pocket, leaving his text unanswered. In that moment, Gabe, the Link Protocol and my career were the last things on my mind.
Turning my attention back towards my grandmother, I reached down with my hand and touched her once more. I didn’t know how many more chances I might have.
GABE
It had been days since Fiona returned to the lab.
During that time, I’d been forced to delay not only the initial presentation but also to stamp out a full-fledged abandonment of fundraising for the Link Protocol. In fact, I’d been within hours of most of the attendees leaving the island, vowing to no longer be involved. And so, while I’d spent most of my time in damage control mode, Fiona had been almost completely unresponsive to my requests for updates.
Her unwillingness to communicate with me put me in a next to impossible situation. People who become billionaires don’t get there by being stupid. It wasn’t hard to see that I was stalling for time. In the face of continuing questions about the viability of the project and the status of the research, I’d been backed into a corner more and more.
Yet, as it is in a game of poker, it’s important not to let your opponent think he’s got you beat. But as the days wore on without feedback from her, it began to become difficult, if not impossible, to portray the delay as anything other than what it was—something serious.
As badly as I might have wanted to do it, I was in no position to get on my jet and confront her about her lack of communication in person. There simply were not enough hours in the day at this point.
Now that the time for putting them off had come and gone, I had little choice but to confess we were facing some last-minute challenges that were going to result in a delay.
Plain and simple… I’d run out of wiggle room and time.
Deciding instead to just deal with the consequences of situation, I invited everyone to dinner that evening. I held the gathering in the same location we’d set up for the initial presentation, because I need a similar forum to deliver the bad news and beg for forgiveness.
After the dinner service that evening, I took the podium once more.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” I began. “I realize that you all know why I’ve asked you here. My prepared remarks boil down to little more than a few bullets on a single piece of paper. What I have to say, unfortunately, won’t take all that long.”
I paused for a moment, holding up the lone sheet of paper for emphasis.
“I want to thank you again for taking time out of your busy schedule to join me here in St. Barth’s. As most of you know by now, we’ve experienced a bit of a setback with the Link Protocol. I’ve had my team working on a solution nonstop since we learned about the issue several days ago. But, above all else, I pride myself on being a man of integrity. Hopeful though I was that we’d be able to get past the issue in a short period of time, it appears as though that’s not going to be the case.”
I stopped speaking yet again and cleared my throat. As I did, the room went completely silent.
“Just to be clear,” I began, but as I spoke into the microphone, a sharp squeal of feedback reverberated from it. I reached for it, covering it with my hand for a moment before continuing.
“As I started to say, I have every confidence that we’re going to get past the issue soon, but it’s not going to be in the time frame we’d originally hoped.”
I paused for a moment and glanced down at my notes. As I did, I detected grumbling once more among the guests. They spoke in a mix of Japanese, Chinese, and a smattering of Middle Eastern tongues, while I kept my attention focused on the podium in front of me, trying not to acknowledge the fact I heard them. There was little question in my mind that doubts were high. But it’s in these times you can never show hesitation, lack of confidence or worst of all, fear.
Instead, I stood tall, straightened my arm
s and wrapped my hands around the podium.
“And so ladies and gentlemen, I’d like to ask you for a personal favor. Some of you I know well, some of you I’m only meeting for the first time in person. But, like yourselves, I’m a businessman. As you know, not all things in business run smoothly. I’d humbly ask that you keep an open mind and agree, although I realize it’s extremely inconvenient, to come back here for our presentation at a later time.”
Just as I uttered the sentence, a swell of groans and moans rippled through the attendees. I didn’t allow it to continue for long. Instead, I lifted a hand, imploring them to stop. I wasted no time and started to speak once more.
“I understand your frustration, and I understand the inconvenience. Believe me, I know how precious your time is to you. However, you have my word we’re doing everything we can, and that as soon as a solution is at hand, you will be the first to know. The opportunity with the Link Protocol is still stupendous and it’s something that can make all of us, and our families, wealthy beyond our wildest imaginations.”
Over the next couple of minutes I wrapped up my brief remarks and focused the remainder of my evening on assuaging concerns and doubts of every single one of the investors. Although it was difficult, I’ve found that in situations like this, it’s always important to take the perspective of the other person.
My only hope was that the damage was not permanent.
As for me, well, when I got back to my suite well after midnight, it was clear I had a bit of soul-searching to do. Without realizing it, I’d allowed my entire future to be controlled by Fiona, and that was something I had to fix.
FIONA
After a hard swallow, I looked at her.
“How are you feeling, Grandmother?”
After a particularly scary stretch of time, my grandmother had regained consciousness and was alert enough to talk to me. I was grateful for it, because there were a few hours when I doubted I would ever get to speak to her again.
“Oh, I think you know the answer to that, Fiona,” she replied. Her voice no longer carried any strength. It was as if each word she spoke taxed her. “There isn’t much time left for me, dear.”
I’d cried so much in recent days that I thought I’d run out of tears. Yet, as I stood there over her, I felt the familiar heat return to my eyes once again. Now though, each time they returned, they brought with them a sting.
A reminder of the inevitable, the futility of it all.
Her doctors informed me they’d done all they could. At this point the prevailing wisdom was that I should do whatever it took to make her final days as comfortable as possible.
The rational part of me, the scientist, understood the prognosis. After all, there was little question her time was almost up. But, my emotional side, the part that encouraged her to fight on, to try and do what she could to live, still held out a sliver of hope.
I reached down and touched her arm.
It was difficult to hold a conversation with her now. As much as she tried, staying awake for any period of time was proving to be more impossible with each day that passed. Leaving aside the challenges I had at the lab for a moment, the truth was that she was too far gone to have any hope of living long enough for the experimental trials, should they ever come to pass.
But as she lay there, gray and withered, I didn’t have the heart to tell her. She already knew her time was at hand. She wasn’t the type of person who liked to pretend problems didn’t exist, and so I’m sure that in some wee hour, when I wasn’t around, she got the answer she needed from her doctors.
Rocking her with a gentle pressure, I asked, “Can I get you anything Grandmother?”
She remained motionless for several moments. At last, she began to roll her head back and forth on the pillow, opening her eyes and looking at me.
“No, dear. I don’t need anything. Just having you with me is enough.”
I reached up and pressed my hand between my nose and my upper lip, stifling my grief. I’d grown weary of showing it to her, choosing instead to leave her memory of me as someone with strength and courage, as she’d raised me to have. Just then, she had a look on her face as if she’d remembered something.
“Fiona,” she began, her eyes flickering and brightening as she spoke. “Your trip to St. Barth’s… The presentation? How was it? Was it everything that you’d hoped for?”
I nodded and smiled at her.
“It was Grandmother,” I lied as I stroked her with a tender caress. “It was very successful, and nothing but good will come of it.”
Her head rolled back to where it was before. As her eyes closed, she muttered, “That’s wonderful dear, wonderf…”
When the last words tumbled from her lips, I sensed her drift away into sleep. As she did, my phone vibrated in my purse. I walked away from the bed so as not to disturb her, reaching inside my bag as I did. Pulling up the phone, I flipped it towards my face and swept it on.
It was Gabe again.
His text to me in recent days had grown short and angry. But between hospital visits and long hours in the lab, there was little I could tell him. This latest text confirmed what I’d prayed we’d be able to avoid. Namely, that he’d decided to postpone the presentation, instead hoping that once we were able to resolve the problems, we’d be able to gather them all together once more.
Yet, there were something different about this message than all the others…
The way he’d worded it, it was almost as if he laid the blame on me. It felt like he was looking for a scapegoat. I stared at the tiny screen, his words piercing my heart like small digital daggers. For the first time since I’d come to work for Gabe, I was struck with the real fear that he was done with me.
Just then, I turned and looked at my grandmother.
There was no telling how much this latest hospital visit would cost. It’s not like it mattered that much anymore, but without my job at Hawkins Biotech, any hope I had of getting out of the debt was long gone.
After sliding the cell phone back down inside my purse, I walked towards my grandmother’s bed and stopped at the foot of it. There was no question our time together was near its end. Worst of all, we’d never know if the experimental treatments emerging from the Link Protocol trials might have saved her.
There would be no lucky breaks for us and no chance to enjoy time with one another.
I’d failed them all.
My grandmother lay dying because I was unable to persuade her to go back for chemotherapy and hopefully hold on long enough to become an experimental candidate. The simple truth was, I hadn’t been firm enough with her when I should have. And now, because of my inability to assert myself where I knew I was right, I would have to deal with her death.
As for Gabe, well, if the tone of his text messages were any indication, little hope remained. Although it would be a terrible outcome for me, I’d already resolved myself to the notion that he might fire me. However, if I had to confess, losing my job would be a preferable outcome to losing him. But now, I had little doubt that was going to be the case.
In fact, it was only a matter of time now before I would lose everything.
Reaching down, I touched the gemstones of my bracelet, searching for any sign of comfort. Yet the power they used to have in my life was all but gone. Soon, my grandmother would pass, and I would be alone and destitute. I’d never experienced true hopelessness… until that moment.
Just then, I felt a sudden rush of lightheadedness, causing me to lean against the beds railing for support.
“Oh no, not here. Not now.”
It was the last thing I remembered.
GABE
Never underestimate the power of being able to persuade people. In business, it’s a skill that’s learned through long hours of negotiation, mixed with a healthy dose of trial and error.
In spite of the ominous start, I’d been able to convince enough of the investors to give me and the Link Protocol another shot. I’d lost a couple of the
m, but that was completely understandable in the situation. Even so, I considered myself fortunate and realized full well this might be my one and only chance to raise the capital I needed.
Thanks to my negotiations, I did manage to buy us a couple of weeks. Some of the investors decided to stay and vacation on the island at my expense, while others vowed only to return once the presentation was available and complete. The good news was that one way or another, it probably wouldn’t take Fiona more than a week at most to fix the problem and put us back in a situation where we had leverage.
The investors aside, the way the things unfolded caused a bit of a rift between Don and me. In fact, the morning after the dinner meeting with the investors, I spent at least an hour with him and his team. The situation was tricky in the sense that while I needed their support, I couldn't allow any confusion as to who was in charge.
I invited criticism from them about things, and they were more than willing to give it. The primary issue remained a lack of confidence in Fiona's ability to effectively deliver the presentation when the time arrived.
Unfortunately, there was really nothing I could do, aside from reiterate my belief in her. It turned out taking that position was far riskier than even I had planned. The way Fiona behaved prior to returning to the lab gave me little in the way of optimism.
I hoped that once she was able to correct the problems as laid out in the email, she'd regain some sense of belief in herself and the viability of the project. For now, however, I had to convince Don and his team to believe in Fiona based purely on my personal assurances. After several hours, I managed to convince them to trust me, at least for now.
As for Fiona, communicating with her continued to prove difficult. She was constantly putting me off with lab-related excuses. Unfortunately, I wasn’t in a position to challenge her, because of the situation on the island with the investors.
But now that things were relatively stable, I decided to take a bit of time and get some clarity, not only about where things were going with the Link Protocol, but more specifically, my involvement with Fiona.
