Don't Let Go
Page 7
“It’s not like you to back away from a challenge.”
“Oh, the challenge part I’m up for. I’m just concerned that my lack of knowledge could make things worse. Georgie’s already been through so much. The last thing I want to do is be the one who screws her up any more.”
Her mother gave her a knowing smile. “How about we go out for dinner to celebrate. Just you and me?”
“Now you’re talking.”
Debbie Marsh had been battling her daughter for the last sweet potato fry when she asked innocently, “So? I’m getting the impression you really like this Zoe person. Is she family?”
“How do you know that expression?”
“What? I get around!”
Tyler giggled, enjoying her local brew. “Don’t let Dad hear you say that.”
Her mother’s face was bright, she was clearly enjoying their time together. “I can’t tell you how much I love having you girls home.” She held up her hand, halting any protests. “I see your look and I know you’re an adult with your own life, still…It’s lovely to have you and Kira home. Megan, on the other hand, is proving to be far more of a challenge than you two ever were. Your dad’s been trying to convince her to go back to school in January. I don’t know what he’s finding more frightening, another semester of Megan sitting around doing nothing and hating the world for it, or two o’clock feedings when your sister’s baby comes.”
“I’m a little nervous about the whole baby thing too.”
“You’ll be fine,” her mother assured her. “Why don’t you tell me some more about this Zoe? You only mentioned her like a hundred times. So you do like her? Are you going to ask her out? She is gay, right? Not like it matters but it’s probably easier?”
Tyler just shook her head. “I don’t know where you come up with these things.”
“I’m just trying to be gender-neutral. It’s a new world and my girls are part of it. I’m so proud of you two. You found the kind of work that inspires you, and Kira’s decided to go ahead and make her own family all on her own. I really raised some great girls!”
“Not exactly sure who you’re complimenting, but if I’m included, I’ll take it.”
“And ask Zoe out?” her mother pushed.
Tyler groaned and rolled her eyes. It was hard to believe this was a conversation taking place between two grown women, one of them her mother. “Yes Mom. I promise, I’ll ask her out.”
* * *
Marnie found her sister, head down at her worktable, soldering iron in hand. “I thought we agreed you’d let Skip handle all the sharp objects.”
Looking up from the oversized magnifying work lamp, Georgie managed to burn her hand the moment she took her eyes from her task. She dropped the soldering iron.
“What did I just say?” Marnie pulled a chair over, taking hold of her sister’s arm and examining the new burn.
“No sharp objects?”
Marnie just groaned. Fetching the always ready first aid kit, she sat back down and carefully dressed the wound. “This isn’t as bad as the last one.” Dressed much like her sister, her custom-made suit was much more fashionably cut in contrast to the more traditional look Georgie preferred. Together with her long hair, she was a softer, curvier version of her older sister. “I do wish you would be more careful. What if I wasn’t here?”
“No interruptions!”
“Speaking of which, did you make any plans for the weekend?”
Georgie shrugged. “Ask Friday.”
“Today is Thursday. Georgie! You should be out having fun, meeting people, visiting with friends, that sort of thing.” At her sister’s blank face she asked gently, “Are we still on for tomorrow night?”
Georgie groaned, but didn’t say no.
“Don’t let Lori hear you complaining. She’s been hyped all week about taking you to that infernal bar.”
Finally beginning to relax, Georgie grinned like a schoolgirl. “Hyped…you in lesbian bar…Mr. Charming at home!”
Marnie laughed. “Yeah, smiling Jack’s none too happy about it either. Men! I swear they imagine a bar full of women as some sort of sexual playground for them, even when they’re completely superfluous!” She laughed at her own joke. “I swear, one day I may have to pound some sense into that big swinging dick of mine!”
“Jack is…loyal.”
Marnie harrumphed as she taped the gauze over the treated burn. “Just keep that covered until you’re done branding yourself. After you shower, put some more of this cream on.” She reached across Georgie, tucking the tube into her shirt pocket. “How did things go with Tyler Marsh the second time around?”
Georgie seemed confused. “Good questions?”
“That’s not what I’m getting at. Tell me if you still want her as your assistant.”
“She is smart.”
“And…” Marnie coached her.
“And…not afraid.”
“And…”
“I like her.”
“Good. Then it’s settled. She starts Monday.”
“What?” Georgie looked panicked. “Not ready!”
“Will you relax? It’s not a military inspection. It’s just when your assistant will start helping you, and besides, I’ve got her scheduled for most of next week with orientation and the standard products course.” When Georgie finally acknowledged this with a nod, Marnie gave her a hug. “I love you, you pain in my backside! Now remember, I’m out of the office tomorrow and Henry will be up at the Big House on the weekend. That means you’re on your own for meals. Will you remember to eat or should I call you?”
Georgie just shook her head, trying to turn her attention back to her work.
“Oh no you don’t. Look at me and tell me if you still want to stay here. If you don’t, we can go pack a bag and you can come home with me.”
Time spent with family at the Big House was an emotional trigger for Georgie’s PTSD. She and the counselors all agreed that spending time in her grandfather’s home, now Henry’s, or more accurately Lou’s, was a painful reminder of all she had lost. Marnie secretly believed that Georgie’s own desire for family, or at least someone to share her life with, was now a long shot. Believing she was too broken to share anything, much less a normal life with anyone, Georgie had been steadily working to isolate herself all the more. It wasn’t a solution and Marnie had no intention of letting her only sister, the most vibrant woman she had ever known, become some sort of techno-hermit. Maybe she wasn’t up for the whole trophy wife scenario, house, kids, little league and peewee hockey, but she was still a very lovable woman and that had to count for something.
“I am…okay Marnie. Go have…enjoy your family. Good to go!”
“Okay, that’s perfect.” Marnie gave Georgie another hug then headed out, calling over her shoulder, “Wear something hot tomorrow night, and when I say hot, I am not referring to winter weight clothing! Got that Georgie Porgie?”
“One day…I will remember your kidname…nickname!”
“Yeah, yeah,” she offered from the door, “and one day I’m going to be the Queen of Sheba and wear a funny hat!”
Chapter Three
Georgie opened her eyes carefully. Maggie’s big head was inches from her own wet face. “Slobbering?” she asked, while using both hands to wipe the moisture from her face. Maggie, as ever, sat patiently waiting, leash in mouth. Pulling up the hem of her T-shirt, Georgie wiped away the last of her errant tears. “Cannot blame you.”
“I think you’re on her bed.”
She looked up from her place on the floor next to the dog. Henry was dressed as he was every night, in his signature blue pajamas and a pair of old moccasins he preferred to slippers. While she was sleeping better, it was still rare for her to sleep all night. The early mornings, usually between three and four a.m., were always the most difficult. Tonight she had crawled out of her own bed in her sleep, dragging herself into the far corner of her room where Maggie usually slept. Well-versed in the stages of her nightmares
, Maggie had begun patiently nudging her awake. Henry too, hearing over the baby monitor the telltale signs of a person falling from bed, had made his way to her room to check on her.
Georgie sat up, propping herself against the bedroom wall. Henry had already made his way to the room’s only chair to rest his ancient bones. Wiping the rest of the sweat from her face, she patted her lap, signaling for the dog to lie down and rest her head. That was all the signal Maggie needed. Dropping her leash, she immediately hunkered down beside Georgie, resting her big brown head across her lap. “Henry? You have knobby knees.”
“You and my dear departed Glory Bee are the only women who ever noticed.”
“Why do you call…her, Aunt Gloria…that?”
Henry smiled. He had told her the story a million times but for some reason, after the nightmares, it was always the first thing she would ask. “Well, it was a routine training flight. I tell you, it was a perfect day. Me and your daddy, we took off in our separate Super Sabres, heading up to Placentia Bay, then over to Goose Bay to refuel before heading for home. About halfway back to base, I started having engine trouble. Old Danny boy was having some problems too, so we figured we got bad fuel. Now, it’s not like there’s a whole bunch of places to put down on the Rock. So, here we were, pushing for home but with no luck. I tip my hat to your daddy. He managed to put his bird down on a little skinny road. All I could find was damned torn-up fields. Sure enough, I plowed that bird in nose first and rolled her kettle over teacup. I remember thinking, I sure hope Dan finds me before some big moose decides to make me his mamma!”
“That never happened.”
He chuckled. “Don’t you know it! Well, I remember waking up and wondering if I was dead. Here I was, a big black man with my very black skin, in a big white bed. The walls were all white with these pretty hand-painted roses all around the trim. I remember everything about that moment. The window was open, with the sea breeze causing the curtains to flutter. The linens smelled like lavender, clean soap and fresh air, and oh it reminded me of the way my momma would hang the sheets out to dry. Then there were all these white women bustling around me and speaking in hushed tones, like they were in church. Well, I thought if I’m dead, this must be heaven. Then I heard the voice of an angel. ‘He’s waking up! Dear God, my sweet poor Yank’s waking up!’ Oh, that was some sweet words. I tried to sit up, look around a bit, but out a nowhere comes my angel, and glory be to God! This freckly faced whiff of a white girl sits on down beside me. Dear baby Jesus, I thought her hair was on fire and it was all frizzy crazy like I remember my little sister’s hair always being. And the tears in her eyes! I’ll be the first to admit the white women up in Newfoundland never treated me like white women did here at home. Not the way they did back then. But here was this white girl, with the greenest eyes and all that fiery orange hair, and she was hanging on to my hand like I was the president of these United States. And just like that, I just knew I could love that girl forever.”
“Just like that?”
“Just like that, child. Just like that!”
“What…how, Uncle Henry?” she asked, always returning to the moniker she had preferred since childhood. “How do you know…when…in love?”
“Now that’s the easiest and hardest question in the world. Why do you ask?”
Georgie shrugged in response. “I guess…I do not know. I guess…maybe I want that…too.”
Henry nodded solemnly. “Me too little Georgie, me too!” With that said and his work done, he dragged his aching bones from her room and back down the hall to his own.
Georgie sat on the floor, slowly brushing Maggie’s neck and rubbing her ears. What do you think, girl? Do you think there’s actually a woman out there who would put up with me crawling into your bed every night? She rested her head against the wall, contemplating her situation. When she couldn’t find an answer or even a temporary solution, she did what she always did. Getting up from the floor, she grabbed her clothes from the arm of the chair and hurriedly dressed. “Time!”
Retrieving her leash, Maggie padded to her side.
This would be another long night.
* * *
It wasn’t until the following Thursday when Tyler finally sat down at her desk. She had arrived bright and early on Monday, prepared to wade into the deep end. She hadn’t expected to spend most of the day completing forms and being shuffled from office to office. Instead of the obligatory welcome greetings and introductions she had endured at other jobs, Tyler had been presented as the chosen problem solver. For whom everyone had questions. Lucky for her, most were well intended and demonstrated a common concern for Georgie DiNamico’s welfare. There were also a few unkind words about work policies and other topics far removed from their job titles. Tyler decided to make a mental note of their opinions and ideas. She knew she would have to call on some, if not all of these people in the coming months, and had a feeling she might not be as welcome then.
She spent day two and three in the training room, along with three other new hires, completing employee orientation. It was really just a crash course on the marine industry and everything DME. Everything except for Georgie and her bio-tech plan.
This morning, Tyler had met with Lou Phipps, the company CFO and Zoe’s dad, in a staff meeting. He had delivered the most detailed and painfully boring report on DME’s income from the international licensing program.
If Tyler thought Georgie’s sister Marnie was tightly wound, Lou Phipps was a whole other thing. He had begun his briefing, as he called it, at exactly nine a.m. At ten thirty, he accompanied her to the cafeteria, having invited her to take coffee with him. There he spoke amiably of the Phipps and DiNamico families but never shared anything but the vaguest generalities. At precisely ten forty-five, she followed him back to his seventh-floor office where he immediately resumed his monologue. During the long morning she had asked him to call her Tyler more than once. The fact that he never outwardly responded to her invitation didn’t bother her nearly as much as his own missing invitation to address him by his given name. He was the only person who hadn’t.
She was so put off by his behavior, she opened her notebook and Googled him. The company website listed him as CFO and VP of Finance. It wasn’t until she clicked through several secure pages on the company intranet that she found something interesting. The next meeting of the Board of Directors was scheduled for late February. A list of invited attendees was attached to the schedule. Beside each name was an annotation differentiating board members from those presenting reports. Her name was listed with the annotation: (GD support). Georgie DiNamico support? No wonder Lou Phipps was acting as if my interest was superfluous. Then she noticed something even more interesting. Lou Phipps wasn’t listed as a board member either. The (MP support) annotation, she was sure, referred to Marnie Pulaski.
Tyler was hunched over her desk, reading the company organization chart, trying to comprehend Lou Phipps’s relationship and his attitude, when she sensed more than heard someone waiting at her door. When she looked up, Georgie was standing there. She had the strangest look on her face and her head was tilted as if in deep concentration. Before Tyler could think of what to say, Georgie walked into her office and around her desk. Without a word she dropped to her knees.
“This is wrong…do not move,” she ordered, immediately getting back on her feet in an efficient, almost military manner, before disappearing out the door.
Tyler sat all but frozen at the order. Then, feeling silly for her reaction, she was about to head to Georgie’s office when the woman walked back in with a small canvas satchel in hand. Without a word of explanation, she dropped to her knees again and began fussing around the base of Tyler’s new office chair. What a day to wear a skirt and heels. Again she was all but frozen in anxiety. Her new boss was on the floor beside her and evidently so deeply involved in whatever it was she was doing, she was unaware of the hand she had placed on Tyler’s knee.
“Please…” Georgie began to ask
, before seeming unable to explain. Resorting to hand signals, she gestured for Tyler to stand. Georgie flipped the chair over and disassembled the base.
Tyler watched with interest as in seconds the woman stripped the complicated swing and tilt mechanism down to its base components. She unscrewed and pried apart the piece that looked remarkably like a fat shock absorber. With the grease-streaked innards in her hand, she corrected the orientation of the shock in its sleeve before reassembling the entire base. Still on her knees, Georgie flipped the chair back on its rollers and turned it to face her, and pointed. Now understanding, Tyler resumed her place. The chair was four or five inches taller, too high now but better.
Georgie stood without a word, removing a cotton hanky from her pocket and wiping grease from her hands. She gestured for Tyler to move toward her work surface. She stepped back, studying Tyler with intent. She had the look of an artist surveying a large canvas as she continued wiping her hands in the cotton hankie. Again she dropped to her knees, this time concentrating on the chair back and arms. Gently, almost cautiously, Georgie took her hand and was leading her through the range of the various adjustable levers when the sound of someone clearing his throat startled them both.
“Georgina!” Lou Phipps was standing in the office door. He shook his head and without further comment, stormed down the corridor.
Shocked by the reaction, Tyler took in the scene from his perspective. She was sitting quite straight in her chair, with Georgie on one knee and holding her hand. She would have laughed if Georgie didn’t look so horrified. She was still on one knee and still holding her hand. Wanting to make things better, she gave Georgie’s hand a light squeeze before helping her to her feet.
Georgie apologized, “I am so…sorry.”
“For what? You were just helping me.”
Georgie hung her head, ashamed. “Now he is…telling Marnie I…recruited you!”
“You already recruited me, hence the fact that I now work here!”