by Luke Lively
“Congratulations, Jack, on your promotion. You earned it doing Chad’s dirty work. I know you’re going to go far in this business. You have exactly what an executive needs—no feelings. I think you enjoyed firing me. You don’t act like you care about anyone except your job.”
“Let go of my arm,” I said. “I do care about my job—maybe you should have cared more? What’s your excuse?”
“I don’t need an excuse,” he said, releasing my arm. “I know why this is happening. Good luck when everything catches up with you—it will. Now, if you don’t mind going back to whatever hole you climbed out of and leave me alone I’ll pack up and get out. But first, I have to tell my family.” I walked toward the door.
“You know this will happen to you someday, don’t you, Jack? What goes around comes around.”
“I don’t think so,” I said, avoiding looking back at Henry. I was just doing my job.
What will they think? I wondered as I walked out of his office. I heard Henry’s door slam as I exited the lobby. Stepping into the sunshine, my thoughts returned to what was most important—survival. I had one year to improve the office’s performance, or I would be just like Henry—fired. Firing Henry would definitely get everyone’s attention in the office. Maybe it would help me. I walked aimlessly down Fifth Street toward the parking garage. If they are afraid of me, they’ll at least pay attention to what I say. Or would they be resistant, resentful? Regardless of what I had hoped for in my first assignment, this was something I couldn’t change unless I changed the entire staff. I stopped at the corner and looked up and down the street. Maybe that’s the solution? I needed loyalty to be a success.
I needed to get something to drink. Walking down the busy street, I saw a coffee shop on the corner, Rude Awakening. I liked the name, and it looked like a place where I could have a few moments to collect my thoughts. As I entered the small shop, a warm, friendly voice greeted me.
“Good morning!” the young lady said from behind the counter. The morning rush had left the shop with only a few customers.
“Good morning,” I said, making my way to the counter. “What would you suggest?” I looked up at the menu above the counter. Looking back to the attractive brunette, I noticed her name tag. It read, CASSIE.
“It depends on what you like,” Cassie said. “Are you someone who likes something different?”
I was Mr. Stuck-in-the-Mud, as Tina referred to me. I rarely tried anything new, sticking with whatever I was used to—especially coffee. I hated the various flavored coffees. While I knew what the true answer to her simple question was, I felt the need to let Cassie know that I was willing to try something different.
“Sure,” I said. “I like to try different things. Surprise me.”
Cassie’s face glowed with a bright, engaging smile and eased away some of the horror I had just endured. “Comin’ right up!” she said, making sure to have eye contact with me for a split second. As she mixed the drink I realized I would be a regular in the neighborhood. I was now the Fifth Street office manager.
“Cassie is an unusual name,” I said, as she began to work on my surprise drink.
“It’s short for Cassandra,” she said. “When I was little, Cassandra was too long for my mother to get out when I was getting into trouble—so she shortened it to Cassie.”
“I like that,” I said. “Cassie—that’s a really catchy name.”
“Thanks,” she said. “I still get in trouble so that’s why I go by it,” she said. Her playful attitude was just what I needed. Before I could utter a response, the door opened and out of the corner of my eye I saw a familiar face. It was William Crabtree. We looked at each other at the same time. He was with a well-dressed gentleman I didn’t recognize. Crabtree was in charge of PT&G’s loan area. While he had never said anything critical to me directly, I knew he was not a fan of Jack Oliver.
“Jack, what are you doing in this part of town?” Crabtree said as though he had caught me in the bank vault with a bag full of cash. “I didn’t know we let you out of your cell during the day.” His weak attempt at humor only highlighted what I believed was, at best, a contemptuous regard for me.
“I’m visiting the Fifth Street office,” I said.
“Tom, this is Jack Oliver, our management trainee at the bank,” he said as I shook the stranger’s hand. “Jack, this is Tom Skeens, one of the bank’s best clients,” Crabtree said as he finished the introductions.
After exchanging the minimal pleasantries, Cassie inserted herself into the conversation, saying, “Your surprise drink is ready.” The comment embarrassed me in front of Crabtree and the client.
“Thanks, Cassie,” I said without thinking, turning toward her and opening my wallet.
“And your name is?” Cassie asked still smiling, knowing she had made an impression on me.
“I’m Jack—Jack Oliver,” I said. Without thinking I said, “I’m the new manager of PT&G’s Fifth Street office.”
Crabtree, still standing within earshot, heard my comment. I turned to leave the coffee shop, but he stopped me. “Jack, can I speak to you for a second,” he said. We stepped back into an unoccupied corner of the shop as Crabtree excused himself from Mr. Skeens.
“Did you say you’re the new manager at Fifth Street? What happened to Henry?” Crabtree asked.
“I fired him this morning. He’s clearing out his office,” I responded.
“That’s a surprise,” he said. “Chad never said a word about it to me. I think a lot of Henry. He’s worked at the bank as long as I have. What happened?”
“He was not doing his job,” I said, not knowing what else to say.
“So you’re going to take his place,” he said. “That’s interesting. Well, good luck—you’ll need it.”
As I turned to leave, Cassie said in a noticeably friendly voice, “Do you like your surprise drink?”
I took a careful sip of the drink. I liked it. “It’s great!” I said. “Thanks.”
“See, trying something different is fun. Nice to meet you, Jack. Come back again,” she said, smiling.
“I will,” I said. “Nice to meet you, Cassie.”
That evening I told Tina about my promotion—a day after the fact. I didn’t tell her about anything else. She said “great” with as much sincerity as she could muster.
“I have some news,” Tina said without emotion. “I’m pregnant.”
I was shocked. “You’re pregnant? How?” I asked.
“You still don’t know how women get pregnant?” Tina asked. She looked at me with a sarcastic grin. “We need to get you back in junior high health class, Jack Oliver!”
It wasn’t funny. We had agreed to a plan to not have another child until we could get our finances in better shape. I knew Tina wanted another child. So I felt like I had been set up. My feelings showed. “I thought we agreed—”
“Now sex is an agreement?” Tina asked. “You can’t have a family as a hobby, Jack.”
I withheld the many hurtful comments in the back of my mind. Talking had never worked; arguing surely would not. I put my head down and remained silent.
“Congratulations on the promotion,” she said after a few seconds. “I know that’s what you think was the big news today. I’m glad you’re happy about something.”
I was not happy about anything. My only happy moment on what should have been a great day was meeting Cassie.
Turning out the light I thought about Cassie. Something about meeting her had a sense of déjà vu hanging over it. What was it? After lying in the dark for what seemed like forever, I remembered. The first question I had asked Tina was the same first question I asked Cassie—“What would you suggest?”
Now, the memory of meeting Cassie had faded into the same pit where the rest of my best plans had fallen. The years had seemed to evaporate, leaving bits and pieces of memories where I had chosen the wrong fork in the road. My mind was racing, pulling back the years. There was one other day where my life spiraled d
own to a choice.
It was a day I would never forget.
Be careful what you want—you just might get it.
—BENJAMIN FRANKLIN PRICE
11. How Can I Make My Life Better?
“HOW CAN I MAKE MY LIFE BETTER?” I asked Father Romano. My previous confession had followed my father’s suicide when I lacked hope for the future. I felt the same way again, but I was twenty years older.
“You must confess your sins. Pray for forgiveness and change your ways,” he said through the confessional screen. Even though I was now almost where I wanted to be in my career, I wasn’t happy. I felt the guilt settling around me, smothering every move, like the dirt around a casket.
“I thought I was doing the right thing, Father, for my family and for me,” I said, “but somehow I can’t get it right.”
“What are you doing to make it right?” Father Romano asked.
“I’m trying Father—I swear I’m trying,” I said.
“Until you want to change you won’t,” he said. “You know you need to change, but you act as if want is more important than what you need.”
“I do, Father, I do need to change,” I said, avoiding listening to what he had just said.
“You must make the right choices,” he said. “You need to care more about your family. Focus more on them than on your job. You must stop your relationship with the woman—nothing good can come from it. And, most of all, be honest with yourself. Otherwise, Jack, you’ll never change.”
Fifteen years had passed since I had been promoted into my first management position. I felt that I was nearing my professional peak. Everything in my career seemed to be going great. Every challenge looked like a great opportunity. I framed challenges in the context of my next step. The path seemed so clear and well-defined. At least it felt that way.
I had been promoted to executive vice president, the second-highest position at PT&G. Chad was closing in on retirement. I was his acknowledged successor. My time was coming, soon. Everything should have been right in my life, but it wasn’t.
My children, Jessica and Joshua, had grown into unhappy young people. They appeared to suffer from the Jack Oliver disorder; they wanted more than life was offering. They were never satisfied with what they had. I had tried to give them everything I missed out on growing up in South Philly. But giving them everything hadn’t stopped them from wanting more. It was my fault. I had confessed that to Father Romano, but saying it aloud only made the hurt more of a reality. I was in pain.
Home was not a sanctuary. It was where the pain resided. There were only two places I could escape the hurt. Work was my primary sanctuary.
The other was with Cassie.
The relationship with Cassie took many years to evolve. We shared some type of connection from the very first time we met. At first we just talked about work, current events, or Philly sports. She would make me try a new coffee drink, at least once a week. The game we played continued, then moved into flirting. I made sure to visit her shop every morning. Then when my schedule allowed me I began to go at lunch. Still not getting enough time with her, I would visit the shop on Saturday. Saturdays were my days of catching up on paperwork in the office. Seeing her on a day when everyone else enjoyed their families made working on a Saturday easier. She became like so many things in my life—an obsession. I wanted more from her. And like everything else, I had wanted in my life, I finally got what I wanted.
Cassie inherited the ownership of Rude Awakening. Her mother, who had started the business, had succumbed to breast cancer, leaving her in charge. This transformed her into a very tough, conservative businessperson. I admired those qualities.
In many more ways than Tina, Cassie was similar to me. She had to fight for everything she had in life. She viewed life as a game, just like me. She knew what it was like to be poor and have nothing. She wanted more out of life. She understood me.
“Jack, you’re just like me—the only person I’ve ever met that thinks like me and wants the same things in life,” she said the first time we were alone. “I don’t know what I would do if you didn’t come in every day. Every time I hear the door open, I look over and hope it’s you.”
No one had ever told me how much I meant to them. Tina was never one to say much about how she felt about me, afraid I would find a way to use it to get my way. And we didn’t have much to talk about anyway since I was at work more than I was at home. In fact, after knowing Cassie more than a few months, I’m sure I talked more to her than to Tina.
Our friendship began to move toward an affair. She gave me a birthday card that said, “I want more.” I did too, but I didn’t want to risk losing the wealth and reputation I had worked so doggedly for over the years. I thought I may have stronger feelings than simple lust, but I tried to break off whatever relationship we shared. I abruptly stopped going to the shop and would not take her phone calls at work. The break up didn’t last.
One evening several months into distancing myself from Cassie I was having dinner with a client. I heard a familiar voice—I knew instantly who it was. I turned and saw Cassie across the room. She was with a man. I did not know if she saw me, but I couldn’t take my eyes off of her. She was smiling and looked so beautiful. I heard her laugh and her voice at different points. I completely lost track of the discussion with my client over his loan request. I couldn’t stop looking at Cassie.
When Cassie and her escort got up to leave, a wave of jealous frustration poured over me as I continued to sit and learn what my client wanted from me. Her escort was going to have what I always wanted, I thought to myself. I should be the one with her. At that point I made up my mind that I would talk to Cassie and explore my feelings for her. I believed I owed it to myself.
I went in the shop the next morning. She looked up and smiled, keeping her composure, and kept waiting on the long line of customers. As I neared, she looked over and said, “Hi Jack—long time, no see.”
“Yeah, it’s been a while,” I said. “But that won’t happen again.” I started talking even though a small crowd of people was standing and listening. “I miss you, Cassie—I miss you so bad. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I was afraid. But I’m not afraid anymore. Can we have dinner tonight?”
Everyone near us stopped what they were doing. It was as if someone had hit a pause button, freezing everyone in place. “Yeah,” she said. “That would be nice.” The crowd started moving again.
That night, we met at a small restaurant where I was sure no one I knew would see us.
“Why are you here?” she asked as we sat in the candlelight, drinking wine, paying little attention to the food on the table.
“I miss you,” I said. “I saw you with a guy—it just about killed me. I knew you two were going to be together. I realized it should have been me.”
“You’re jealous? Jack Oliver, the man always in control of every emotion, jealous? I don’t believe it,” she said, laughing sarcastically. “What did you think? When you quit I quit living? Did you think I was going to wait for you?”
“No—I didn’t expect you to wait for me—I didn’t ask you to,” I said. “Are you in love with him?”
“Jack—I love you. You know it. I’ve told you in so many ways. You broke my heart hundreds of times. Every time you walked away from me, I knew where you were going—home, to be with your family. I can’t wait for you forever. If you love your wife and want to be with her, you shouldn’t be with me. But at least tell me, so I can go on with my life.”
“I do love—I don’t know what I feel about her. I need to know if you and I are supposed to be together,” I stuttered. “I know I miss you and think about you always. When I wake up in the morning and when I go to bed at night, you’re on my mind. I think you’re beautiful and the perfect woman for me. Is that love?”
“You tell me, Jack,” she said. “Do you love your wife?”
“I did,” I said. “But now, well, we don’t talk. I don’t know.”
“Are you goi
ng to leave her?” she asked. “I need to know.”
“Yes,” I said. “But I need some time. My career is moving in the right direction. I have a lot of assets tied up with her. But I will—I’ll leave her soon. I promise.”
“I want you, Jack Oliver,” Cassie said, reaching across the table and gripping the top of my hand. “I love you.”
I had never kissed her until then. I leaned over and met her halfway across the table. We kissed. I then heard a noise. It was the waiter.
“I’m sorry to interrupt, but would you care for anything else?” the waiter asked.
“No, thank you, we have everything we need,” I said, smiling at Cassie, feeling one of the most joyful moments in my life.
“Yes—I can see. You and your wife are a beautiful couple,” he said.
Cassie looked up and said, “Yes—we are, aren’t we?”
As the waiter walked off, we both laughed. I still had a question on my mind.
“Why, or I mean how, could you love me? I’m married and have two kids. I’m an overweight, balding workaholic who doesn’t know when to stop,” I said. “What attracts a beautiful, young woman like you to me?”
“I’ll tell you Jack, honestly. It’s your power. I see you as a person who gets what he wants in life. That makes you the most attractive man I could ever find. You’re like me. We could get anything we wanted in life! We would be incredible together—I know it.”
“What do you want from life?” I asked, peering into her sparkling eyes.
“More,” Cassie said. I knew what she was talking about. That’s what I wanted.
“I know what you mean,” I said.
“Jack, that’s why I know we’re perfect for each other,” she said with a content smile. “We want the same things.”
We left the restaurant and went to her apartment. I had told Tina I had a late meeting with a client. As we walked up the steps toward her second-floor apartment, I felt freer than I could ever remember. We stopped on the landing and kissed. As she opened the door I heard a beeping noise. “It’s my phone messages,” she said.
