Don't Let Go

by Sheryl Wright

  Finally home and in the door, she berated herself for not remembering to leave a light on. Letting Maggie off her leash, and giving her the off-duty command, which was actually a hand signal, Georgie found the light switch and made her way down the antique staircase. Other than her Friday night outings with Lori and Marnie, this was the first time she had been out on her own and she felt a little disoriented coming in so late. Falling back on the routines Marnie had put in place, she opened her late evening checklists. Her email notification flashed. She dismissed the notification happy to see it was the promised proposal from Tyler. Wanting to concentrate on her checklist first, she followed the routine religiously. Once the doors were double-checked, the alarm set and fresh water set out for the dog, she made a cup of tea, retrieved her tablet and headed for the only furniture in the room, the old nail head Chesterfield sofa that had once graced her grandfather’s office. Her hands were still cold when she grabbed the remote, selecting music and turning on the fireplace at the same time.

  What an incredible evening. It was easy to admit now that she had been nervous when Tyler picked her up. Meeting new people was always difficult. And she had good reason to be concerned. In Buffalo society the DiNamico/Phipps family was considered neither cornerstone nor superstar, but they were the new elite and a long-term business success. That came with a lot of expectation. Georgie DiNamico was one of those people everyone thought they knew or wanted to know. Often people were excited to be introduced. Georgie was tired of watching their enthusiasm dim, along with their opinion, every time they realized she couldn’t string more than three or four words together at a time. It was funny though, Tyler never got hung up. She seemed to get where she was going most of the time and had no problem filling in the blanks. Talking with her sometimes felt…well normal again.

  Finally starting to feel warm, she pulled the old four-point blanket over her legs, patting the cushion beside her for Maggie. “Come.” The giant dog, now off duty, checked her bed to make sure everything was good, grabbed her squeaky toy and joined Georgie on the couch. She rubbed the dog’s head, feeling a kind of satisfaction. She always enjoyed her late-night reading time sprawled on the couch with the dog, fireplace on, music…but it was always missing something. Tonight she knew what that was. It was nice to finally have someone other than her sister and her cousin Lori to share things with. Even better to feel someone understood her beyond the people who cared for her. People needed more in life. Something more, she admitted.

  Opening the email from Tyler, she was not surprised by the length of the proposal. A good proposal would include a detailed financial projection along with crosschecks and milestones. And for proposals like this Tyler knew she would want to see details of the work breakdown, assignment strategies and how members could opt in or out during the project. Reading the table of contents she was pleased to see all of those issues had been addressed along with several others. Tyler was smart that way.

  Judging by the evening she would say her parents were too. She had thoroughly enjoyed their company. Her first impression of Debbie Marsh: strong, smart and analytic in nature. Definitely an alpha female. Carl Marsh, on the other hand, was the joker and a jock. It turned out the man had actually played professional football up in Canada, and he and Georgie had spent a good half hour debating the pros and cons of the differing rules of the game between CFL and the NFL. It had been a fun discussion but the real eye-opener came when he took Georgie for a tour of the shop.

  While there was definitely an automotive feel to the place, it wasn’t much different from the paint shed out at the boatyard. Of course scale and techniques were different but the smells were the same. It was when they finally reached Carl’s office that Georgie got a true glimpse of the man. First off, he shared the place with his wife. In fact, she had most of the space. On the wall behind her desk were the certificates and professional seals expected of a CPA, and a few family shots. In contrast, Carl’s wall was covered frame to frame with photographs. For a man who had played college and professional football and had won several awards for his restored vehicles, she was surprised to see nothing but family photographs. Although usually with cars in them. Still, every single one had one, two or all three of the girls. When he noticed she was looking over the pictures, he was quick to grab his prized possession off his desk. Handing it over with pride, he explained it was taken recently, on their thirty-fifth wedding anniversary. Georgie had taken the framed photograph in her hands and examined it solemnly. In a studio shot of his family he and Debbie stood side-by-side, with the three girls around them. It made her smile to think a big tough guy like Carl Marsh would cherish his family above all else. After the tour, she had chatted with Tyler’s sisters, teasing Kira and commiserating with Megan. She spent time asking Kira the baby questions she had memorized and let Megan argue with her knowing it was just her age. It’d been a perfect evening. More than that, it’d been an evening with Tyler.

  She put her tablet aside, setting a reminder to add the proposal to tomorrow’s reading, “This first” she annotated.

  Part of her reason for taking a long walk in the frigid cold was more about sorting out her feelings about Tyler than Maggie needing a long walk. Of course, Maggie never complained although she was starting to lift her paws the last few yards before the main door. Georgie usually found a good walk beneficial when she was trying to sort something out. It hadn’t helped this time and she could only assume it was because this time something was completely different. If Tyler was a thing, she realized, like a project or an idea, she would map it out or create a pseudo code. But Tyler wasn’t a thing. She was a friend. A kind of friend. A caring friend. Friend. She hated that word. It was a ridiculous idea to even think that there could be more between them. Even without mapping it out, she knew there were too many outliers. Tyler was clearly smart. Smarter than her and capable of so much. The last thing Tyler needed was to be saddled with someone like her. And then there was the age difference. All right, eight years wasn’t that big a deal this day and age. It wasn’t like she was an old woman. Hell, her father had been fourteen years older than her mom, and Henry a full two decades older than Aunt Gloria! Still, there was more to it than age.

  She sat deep in thought for a long time. It was as if some key piece of the puzzle was missing. The one little piece that once in place would pull everything into focus. She actually laughed to herself to realize it was an ideal puzzle to take to Tyler. She shook her head and woke up Maggie. “Come,” she said, giving her the ‘time to head upstairs’ signal. She watched as the dog rolled off the couch, retrieving the squeaky she had dropped in her sleep, and headed up the staircase.

  As she followed her she realized she only had two options. If she couldn’t share her feelings with the person they were about, then she could turn to Marnie or Lori. They had always been there for her and she knew she could count on them. She just wasn’t sure she was ready to ’fess up to what was churning around in her head, not to mention other places. Georgie smiled about that. It’d been a long time since she felt that longing for someone. Still this wasn’t the same. Oh, the longing was there but there was something more. When she didn’t keep her feelings in check, all the fluttery things would let loose inside her. That was completely new and something she definitely needed help with.

  In the bedroom Georgie stopped in front of her dresser, unloaded her pockets and plugged in her phone. What the hell, sink or swim! She tabbed to Lori’s number and sent a quick text message. Can’t remember how to ‘bend-her,’ don’t want to ‘break-her,’ can you explain?

  Moments later Lori’s reply flashed back: LMAO! I know you still got it baby! I’ll pick you up for brunch. OK?

  Georgie responded with a quick affirmative and smiled when Lori sent a silly emoticon in reply.

  Chapter Nine

  Tyler laughed at herself when she realized she’d been singing along with the music. Zoe had shown her how to use the app Georgie had designed to control all the electron
ics in her apartment including the sound system. She had three playlists programmed. She felt a little uncomfortable the first time Zoe suggested she feel free to put on the music whenever she was in the apartment attending to her personal assistant duties. With names like Get Up, Work and Get Down, it was easy to feel like she was invading her boss’s privacy. Although it didn’t stop her from browsing through each playlist.

  The Work music was almost a disappointment. Mostly all classical, with some jazz and more modern instrumental numbers. The Get Down list was interesting. She had to admit she would’ve named it Relax and Chill. It was the Get Up list she usually played when she was in the apartment. She didn’t really know any of the tunes. They were a mix of rock and pop from the 70s and 80s. She had to wonder if it was really Georgie’s favorite music or an auditory anchor to her early childhood. She had been singing along to “Wild, Wild Horses” when she recognized the song but not this version. Grabbing her tablet, she opened the playlist. She laughed realizing the song she believed an old English ballad had actually been written and recorded by the Rolling Stones in 1971. Though not a fan of Mick Jagger’s vocals, she couldn’t deny the longing the song invoked.

  “There you are!” Zoe said as she pushed through the service door behind the kitchen. She propped the big steel door open and began pushing a large box-cart inside. “How’s the shirt stuffing going?”

  “Not too bad.”

  Old John, the family tailor, had been good as his word. On December 29th, as promised, all the shirts, ties and scarves had arrived. John had provided two other services that she truly appreciated. The new shirts were cleaned and pressed, and properly folded to fit in the gift boxes he had supplied. These weren’t the average fold it yourself white boxes with the store name on top but true gift boxes in paisley patterns in a variety of colors and were large enough to fit the six shirts, along with the scarves or ties that Georgie had promised each engineer. Tyler had already printed out the gift labels, and now had each box set out in rows along the kitchen counter. While the big island counter was huge there still wasn’t enough room for sixty-two boxes. With four dozen laid out, she planned to stuff the boxes in stages and was halfway through the first set. “I’ve got it all organized so it’s really just stuffing everything in now.”

  “Brilliant,” Zoe noted. “I’ll take care of the rest of this lot if you like. Skippy is helping Aunt Stella bring up Georgie’s new togs. She wants you to see how she organizes everything. I swear that woman thinks you’re Georgie’s nursemaid.”

  “Your aunt is a singular woman. She likes things done a certain way and I appreciate that. You know,” Tyler teased, “your father and Aunt Stella are very much alike.”

  Zoe groaned. “Ugh, don’t remind me.”

  “Besides, I’m starting to enjoy taking care of the basic things.”

  “I guess,” Zoe conceded. “You must be a bit relieved after having your head stuck in the quagmire of economics, ethics and whatever it is that Georgie always goes on about.”

  “You know, I put the denim shirts in first but now I’m thinking maybe we should go with the stripes first then the denim. I thought we’d put the white one on top so the ties would really stand out folded above them. What do you think?”

  Shaking her head, Zoe stood with her hands on her hips. “I can’t believe how much care you put into all these silly things she comes up with!” At Tyler’s impish grin, she smiled. “Of course you’re absolutely right.” With that she began handing Tyler the shirts in pairs, and matching the sizes Tyler called out. Once that was done it only took a few more minutes to add the white shirts to each box, top them with the tie sets, and finish boxing them up.

  Tyler and Zoe were stacking the last of the gift boxes when Skippy came ambling down the circular staircase. Long and lanky like his twin, he lacked her grace and style. He was already wearing one of the new shirts Georgie had purchased for him, and Tyler had to remind him not to wear one of the denim shirts or the ties yet, at least not until all the other engineers had received their gift too. That wouldn’t happen until tomorrow night, for New Year’s Eve, when the DiNamico and Phipps clan would host their annual gala.

  Tyler and Zoe had already reviewed the guest list several times. Even though it was considered a company event, all the invitations were plus one. Every employee past and present was on the list. All of the DiNamico family and the extensive Phipps clan were included along with business associates, plus several guests Zoe had described as gold diggers and social climbers. The type of people more interested in the accumulated wealth of the two families and their influence within the community. Tyler knew those people existed everywhere. Even within her beloved academic community, one couldn’t attend a single event without tripping over some sort of ass-kisser or brown-nose. She figured it just came with the territory.

  Leaving Skippy to help Zoe get all the boxes next door and into the empty suite, she headed upstairs to lend Aunt Stella a hand. Stella was Henry’s niece but clearly the Italian influence of the DiNamico family had been at work when Stella and her mother had come to live at the big house just months after the tragic Christmas accident. At twelve years old she was already a powerhouse, stepping in and taking on the moniker of aunt to a boatload of motherless children. It wasn’t the first time Tyler had wondered what that first year must’ve been like. As Stella had said herself, she’d been nothing but a bored careless tween when her mama packed them up and shuffled them off to Buffalo. She had also learned it was the catalyst Georgie had used to claim her right to move into her aunt’s bedroom. She wasn’t little Georgie anymore, she had claimed way back then, and Tyler could imagine the bold seven-year-old, hands on hips, and claiming she had grown up. She was big Georgie, and would live in big Georgie’s room, while Aunt Stella, a girl of twelve, had become her protector and confidant.

  A clothing rack had been rolled in to hold the half-dozen garment bags containing the new clothing order. She knew the rack usually found its home in the empty condo on the eighth floor. Once Tyler was finished with the new delivery, Skippy had orders to station it in the lobby to accept the outerwear of tomorrow night’s guests. “I’m not sure where to start.” She was relieved to feel Aunt Stella’s hand on her back. “I bet you have a plan?”

  Stella laughed. “No worries girl, we’ll go at this one at a time.”

  Agreeing, but still overwhelmed, Tyler began unzipping the garment bags and removing the new duds.

  “Just set those aside for now,” Stella suggested, pointing to the zipper covers protecting the new suits. “Once we have everything sorted and put away we can use them for the clothing going to the VA.”

  That caught Tyler by surprise. “The VA?”

  “Uh-huh, they have a program for young airman and airwomen. It’s an exchange of sorts. You know, nice clothes for interviews and the like. Helps those folks trying to get back on their feet in civilian life.”

  “Wow, I had no clue. That’s a great idea!”

  “I have a system I’ve been using for years now. And if you don’t object…”

  “Object? Oh Stella, I bow to your superior knowledge,” Tyler said with a smile, admitting how out of depth she felt. It was strange to be standing in her boss’s closet. Yet like everything about Georgie, the place was organized and functional. What’s more, it felt just like Georgie. Trailing her hand along the shoulders of a dozen suit jackets, each one two inches apart, she had to ask, “How do you keep everything lined up so precisely? I’m so amazed every time I walk in here.”

  Stella grinned at her. “That would be Anthony’s doing,” she explained, removing four suit jackets and the heavy wooden hangers. “Slide your fingers along the pole, sweetie.”

  “Oh my God! There are special grooves. They must make the hangers slide into place.”

  “From what I hear, Georgie originally asked him if he could paint lines on the poles so she could line up her hangers. You know, sort of like a measuring tape. Well, since Anthony and the boys had n
othing but time on this job, they carved the back of each pole by hand. Quite ingenious I’d say!”

  “Absolutely.” It was one thing she truly understood about Georgie. The woman appreciated organization, although she wasn’t quite as organized as the world would believe. Just the other day, she’d been working quietly at her desk when Maggie padded in and stared at her. This was something new and not knowing what else to do, she had stood and followed the dog back into the executive suite. Sure enough, Georgie was in trouble but not the kind the dog could help with. Strewn across every inch of her desk and work surface was every type of financial report, spreadsheets of expenses, R&D requests, engineering change notifications and who knew what else. Georgie stood in the middle of the organized chaos with another ream of paper spread between her two hands and had still another report in between her teeth. Tyler couldn’t imagine finding a more forlorn and overwhelmed figure anywhere.

  It’d taken an hour altogether, but with her help, she had managed to put Georgie back on track. By the time they were done, Tyler knew two things for sure. She could trust the dog to come to her before there was trouble, and from what she had gleaned from the reports, something was not kosher when it came to the DME books.