The Greening: a novel of romantic suspense...with a touch of magic (The Green Man Series Book 1)

by Sharon Brubaker

  “Pretend they’re toast,” Marian advised, “They should be turning a golden brown. Just make sure its not burning.” Marian told her, “and please ask Owen and Gwen to come in for dinner.”

  Sylvia did as she was told. The asparagus sizzled in the broiler. When Owen and Gwen came inside, Gwen raised her eyebrows knowingly at Sylvia nodding approvingly at Owen’s back. Marian asked Owen to open champagne and pour and she handed the platter of meat to Gwen to take into the dining room. Sylvia put the potatoes in the bowl and Marian retrieved the asparagus.

  Sylvia had not eaten in Marian’s dining room before this evening. She looked closely at the carved oak chairs and saw a stylized Green Man carved into the backs. Two chairs with extremely high backs sat on either side of the fireplace. They also had rather gruesome Green Men carved into the backs. They looked as though they had come from a church. Before Sylvia could comment, Marian winked at her and Sylvia kept quiet. Before she sat down, Sylvia ran her hand over the chair backs feeling the outline of the carved green man with her fingers.

  Marian toasted them all to their beginning journeys and best wishes with their new jobs and they settled down to eat. Dinner conversation was sparse, but over dessert and coffee it started up again and they laughed and talked as if they had known one another for years. Full of food and drink, the girls left quite late and returned to Sylvia’s to lie on the couch and groan with fullness.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever eaten such a wonderful meal,” Gwen told Sylvia.

  “I know,” Sylvia said, “yet she cooks like that all the time. Marian is amazing.”

  “Owen’s pretty amazing too,” Gwen said.

  Sylvia blushed.

  “Girl, you’ve fallen for him bad,” she stated to her friend.

  “I know,” Sylvia admitted quietly. “Is it that obvious?” she asked worriedly.

  “Only to me,” Gwen assured her.

  “I can’t help it,” Sylvia told her, “Lord knows I’ve tried.”

  “I don’t think you need to worry,” Gwen told her. “I think he’s interested in you too.”

  “I don’t know,” Sylvia said miserably. “I feel like I’m in junior high school or something. When I went to Thurmont he was taking this gorgeous blond scientist named Anna out to lunch. I’ve dubbed her the ‘ice princess’ because of her blond hair, silver eyes and bitchy look. I was so jealous and I have no right to be jealous,” she complained.

  “Honestly, I feel like I’m mooning over him like the women do in those bodice ripper romance novels.”

  “Ahh,” Gwen sighed. “They are one of my favorite things to read,” she said. “Don’t knock them.”

  Gwen had a passion for romances and what she called ‘jelly bean’ reading. It was her favorite escape when she was stressed. Sylvia had witnessed her friend disappearing into a book and eating huge amounts of chocolate for hours. Gwen would come out of the trance like state to tackle the numbers in her higher math and management course with ease. It had always boggled Sylvia’s mind how Gwen could break out of the book and go back to serious number crunching and tax law with ease.

  “Relax,” advised her friend. “If it is to be, it will be,” Gwen said sagely.

  Sylvia half -heartedly threw a pillow at Gwen. “Oh, shut up,” she said sleepily to her friend and yawned heartily.

  “C’mon,” she said, getting up and tugging at Gwen’s hand, “Let’s go to bed,” she groaned and staggered up the stairs.

  Sunday, Sylvia woke up later than usual still feeling full from the food and drink of the previous night. She dragged herself out of bed, made coffee and lay back down on the couch in a daze until Gwen got up. She looked at her friend through half closed eyes.

  “I’m not used to weekends like this anymore,” she told her friend.

  “Me either!” Gwen yawned. “Give me coffee!” she demanded, “or a Bloody Mary,” she said. “Hell, let’s just go for broke and do both.”

  They sat on the deck letting the sun warm them and sipping coffee and Gwen’s requested Bloody Mary’s until they were awake and still relaxed. It was a glorious, sparkling beginning of summer sort of day. It was warm, but not too hot, with a gentle breeze off the water. It was later in the morning when they put on their swimsuits and slathered on sunblock and lay in the sun chatting lazily. Sylvia had a large straw hat pulled over her eyes and Gwen lay on her stomach.

  “You know we’re becoming candidates for skin cancer, don’t you?” Gwen quipped to Sylvia.

  “I don’t know about you,” Sylvia replied, “but my 45+ sunblock will help prevent that dreaded disease. I’m just letting the sun sink into these old bones.”

  “Huh,” Gwen answered and turned over so that she was baking her front.

  The day passed too quickly with them chatting, snacking and soaking up the sun. Power boats whizzed up and down the bay and personal watercraft scooted along the shoreline. Neither Gwen nor Sylvia felt like braving the cool water of the bay once they stood ankle deep and shivered, then continued to bake on the deck. Before long it was mid-afternoon and Gwen decided it was time to go back to Connecticut. She gave a long sigh and looked wistfully at the deck and the water when she went inside to dress and pack up her things.

  It didn’t take her long to pack up. She gave Sylvia a huge hug and wished her well on the new job. “Keep me informed about Owen,” she teased her friend.

  “Oh, you!” Sylvia cried exasperated. “Don’t worry,” Sylvia said. “You read too many romances! Safe travels.” She wished to her friend and Gwen went down the road back to Connecticut.

  Chapter 12

  Every day is a god, each day is a god,

  And holiness holds forth in time.

  I worship each god,

  I praise each day splintered down,

  And wrapped in time like a husk,

  A husk of many colors spreading,

  At dawn fast over the mountains split.

  --Annie Dillard

  Promptly, at 8:00 the next morning, Sylvia nervously arrived at Thurmont. Carol, the secretary in personnel, had her fill out several forms, took her to security to get her badge and set her up with the IT gurus for her email account. It was nearly 11a.m. by the time she arrived in the marketing department office. Mr. Carter came out to greet her.

  “Good morning, Ms. Ash,” he said heartily and shook her hand again.

  “It’s Sylvia, please,” she said, returning his warm grip.

  “All right,” he nodded, “This is your desk.” He pointed to the desk in the front office.

  “I’m afraid you’ll be somewhat of an office assistant as well as assistant information officer. We don’t have a secretary so you’ll be fielding phone calls as well as taking messages for the department. We’re the little brother end of a much larger public information office from the parent company. Mostly, folks have my direct line and e-mail,” he told her, “I try to pull my own weight.”

  As he spoke he reminded her of the ‘Lou Grant’ character in the old “Mary Tyler Moore” television series. He seemed to be rough and tough on the outside, but she thought she could see part of a marshmallow core.

  “I thought you should read through what’s happened in the last few months with the media,” he said to her. “Thurmont is part of two EPA superfund cleanup projects. The community and environmental groups think we’re horrible and we’re out to change that image.”

  “Sure,” Sylvia said uncertainly.

  “Come into my office and get some of this stuff,” he told her.

  She followed him into an untidy office. His desk had several piles and things looked stuffed into bookcases. It looked as though he had been there for years rather than a few months. He sighed and didn’t offer explanation when she glanced around the office, but rather pulled through what hair he had left on his head. In all of the piles on the desk, Sylvia was amazed to see that he could lay his hands on exactly what he needed. He handed her notebooks and files that were filled with marking profiles, glossy bro
chures and newspaper articles as well as court litigation. He helped her carry these out and dumped them on her desk and turned on the computer next to it. When they logged onto the Internet the home page was for Thurmont.

  “I’ll leave you to look at this stuff,” Mr. Carter said. “And, don’t worry, I’ll take care of the phone and stuff today.”

  “Thanks,” Sylvia returned quietly sitting down slowly and deliberately in front of the huge pile of notebooks.

  She spent the next couple of hours reading old promotional brochures, news articles and going through the website. It was nearly one when Mr. Carter emerged from his office. Sylvia looked up feeling a bit dazed.

  “Good Lord!” he exclaimed. “You should go and get some lunch! The cafeteria will be closing soon.”

  “Okay,” she told him, “Can you tell me where the cafeteria is?” she asked.

  He gave her directions and she set off through the plant. She took one or two wrong turns, but finally found the cafeteria. After choosing a sandwich and some chips and a soda, she sat down in the cafeteria that looked like an atrium. It had floor to ceiling glazed windows that curved in a half circle and looked out onto Thurmont’s wooded property. Sylvia sat down where she could look out. Obviously, many had already lunched and there were only a few stragglers. Sylvia munched slowly on her sandwich and chips. Carol from the personnel office came from the line and looked around. Sylvia waved half -heartedly and Carol returned the wave with a smile and headed over to her table.

  “It’s Sylvia, right?” Carol asked. “May I sit down?”

  “Please do,” Sylvia returned.

  “How’s the first day going?” Carol asked.

  “All right,” Sylvia answered. “But, I’m a bit overwhelmed.”

  Carol nodded sympathetically. “I know just what you mean,” she said. “I felt the same way and it went on for a couple of months. This place is so big!”

  Sylvia nodded in agreement and then asked, “I had no idea about the size of this corporation. It’s quite a revelation. How long have you worked here?”

  “A couple of years,” Carol added. “Mr. Keely is one of the new hires too,” she told Sylvia. “He came about six months ago. It’s been interesting adjusting to a new boss,” she told Sylvia.

  “What do you mean?” Sylvia asked.

  “Well,” Carol confided in her, “my old boss was a love,” she said, “and I was so sad when he retired. When Mr. Keely was hired, at first I thought it would be great having such a handsome guy to work for,” she said.

  Sylvia nodded and motioned for her to go on.

  Carol munched on a couple of Sylvia’s potato chips before she answered. “Well, you know he isn’t bad to look at. He looks like one of those guys in the underwear ads,” Carol said and Sylvia nodded again.

  “But,” Carol said, “I learned that looks aren’t everything. Mr. Keely is an ass,” she confided in Sylvia tossing her dark, sleek pageboy.

  Sylvia was so surprised at this that she nearly choked on her soda. Then they both started laughing.

  “Well, I did think he looked like a Ken doll or something plastic,” Sylvia told her.

  “I know!” Carol said, “But the problem is that he has the brains of one too!” Then she looked around nervously. “I’m sorry,” she said finally, “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

  “Don’t worry,” Sylvia said. “I know no one and certainly wouldn’t pass that on,” Sylvia told her comfortingly.

  Carol looked relieved. “Thanks,” she said.

  “Mr. Carter seems nice,” Sylvia ventured. “We’re supposed to meet to talk later today. Speaking of which,” Sylvia said as she glanced at her watch, “I should be getting back. Thanks for sitting and having lunch with me,” she said to Carol.

  “You’re welcome,” Carol said. “We’ll do it again soon. I’ll e-mail you.”

  Sylvia left smiling. Carol was nice. She found her way back to her office and sat down with the books again. After a couple of additional hours of reading, her eyes were blurry. Mr. Carter emerged from his office again.

  “This probably isn’t a good time to meet,” he asked, “Is it?”

  “I would prefer meeting tomorrow morning,” Sylvia told him. “My head is spinning with reading all of this stuff,” she admitted.

  He nodded and said, “Rightfully so. But, I would like to put a thought or two into your head to cook until tomorrow,” he told her. “Thurmont’s press has been very negative due to the two superfund clean up projects in the last couple of years as I mentioned earlier and no doubt you’re reading about it in these notebooks. They’re looking for a way to convince the public that we’re a good organization that cares about the community. They’re looking to marketing to come up with most of the ideas, but it would be nice if we could submit some ideas to ‘big brother’ company and show them what we’re made of. We can brainstorm this tomorrow morning.” He told her. “You’ve had enough for one day.”

  “Thanks,” Sylvia said. “I’ll give it some thought.”

  When it was time to go, she left and drove home in a haze. She was surprised at how tired she was. She didn’t have a clue as to what kind of marketing campaign she could suggest and wondered if she was in over her head. Sylvia poured a glass of wine and went out to the deck to watch the colors in the sky go from brilliant blue to the backlit gold. The sun pierced the rest of the sky from behind the fluffy clouds and Sylvia gasped involuntarily. She had to agree with Gwen, this was a great place to live. The phone rang, interrupting her reverie of the sunset. It was Marian checking in on her first day.

  “It was fine,” she told Marian. “Although I’m not really sure what I’m doing.” she admitted ruefully. “At least…not yet.”

  Marian murmured assurances to her that everything would be all right, said they would talk again soon and hung up. Sylvia poked about in the refrigerator and freezer looking for something for dinner. She popped one into the microwave and ate woodenly a few minutes later wondering what Mr. Carter was expecting from her the next day.

  He greeted her heartily when she walked in the next morning, “Good morning, Sylvia,” he boomed. “I’ll give you a couple of minutes to get settled and then we can meet. You should check your e-mail a couple of times a day,” he advised.

  She nodded at him and put her purse in the bottom desk drawer.

  “Do you drink coffee?” he asked.

  “Definitely,” Sylvia answered.

  “Let me show you where you can get a cup,” he said as he led her out of the office and down the hallway to a small kitchenette. “Everyone chips in coffee, creamer, sugar, etc.” he told her, “and we all try to keep the place fairly cleaned up. Whoever’s in first makes a pot of coffee. When it’s empty, you should make another.”

  “Okay,” Sylvia said, making a mental note to pick up an extra can of coffee on her next trip to the grocery store.

  He poured her a Styrofoam cupful and handed it to her. “You’ll probably want to bring in your own mug,” he advised and they walked back to the office.

  The phone was ringing as they entered the office. Mr. Carter picked it up and barked, “Public Information Office!” He spoke for a few minutes to whoever was on the other end and put them on hold and turned to Sylvia, “I’ll take this in my office and be with you in a few minutes,” he told her.

  Sylvia sat down sipping her coffee and looked at her bare desk while the computer warmed up. She didn’t have pictures of children or pets to place on the desk, but thought she could bring in a small plant or pretty shell or something to make it less sterile. In fact, the entire office was on the sterile side. She thought she would have to do something about that. She turned back to her e-mail. Mr. Carter had sent her a test message and she replied. There was a notice of an all employee dinner meeting at a local facility on Wednesday evening. Sylvia made a mental note that she needed to attend. She quickly emailed her mother and Gwen with her office e-mail account and then logged onto the Thurmont website. It was a fai
rly slick site that touted their chemical products and their uses. It wouldn’t be overly friendly to the general Internet surfer. She wondered if they could add a community piece at how Thurmont was working to clean up their superfund project problems. She needed to get more details and was thinking about it when Mr. Carter returned.

  “Are you ready to meet?” he asked.

  “Yes, certainly,” Sylvia replied. They took the notebooks and Sylvia took a tablet and pen to a small table in his office. He moved a couple of stacks of papers and sat down. Other than the piles of papers, his office was sterile.

  “Public opinion of Thurmont is at an all time low,” he told her blandly. “Our stock is beginning to be affected. Our sister company has all the fancy pants marketing folks for the advertisements for our products, but we need to find a way to come out smelling like a rose to the public.”

  Sylvia nodded and let him continue.

  “This is a new position for me too,” he said with a note of discomfort in voice. “I’ve only been at this site a short time. They tell me it’s a kick upstairs to have this position, but I’m feeling as though it’s a kick in the pants,” he said. “If I don’t come up with something good…” he stopped and left everything hanging.

  “I think I understand,” Sylvia said. “Can you let me continue to read through this stuff and I can jot down some ideas?” she asked.

  “Of course,” he said. “I just wanted to let you know what was going on.”

  “I appreciate your candidness,” Sylvia said.

  He nodded and returned to his office. She went back to her desk and continued to read articles on the superfund cleanup. Apparently from this site, chemicals leaked into a nearby stream and killed it. The clean up took shape to dredge out the stream and place a rock bed beneath it with plastics and wire so that the chemical would not leach back into the water. They recently introduced fish into the new streambed. Another leak of pesticides created havoc with some farmers’ fields, ground water and with the livestock. Steps were being taken to rectify the situation. Sylvia read until she felt cross-eyed. About 12:30 she knocked on Mr. Carter’s door and said she was going to lunch. He nodded and she returned to the cafeteria. It was noisy today, filled with at least a hundred hungry employees. Sylvia scanned the room for an empty table. She didn’t feel brave enough to butt into anyone’s conversation. She lingered around the cutlery area and dawdled getting her drink and condiments. Finally some people got up and she made a beeline for a small table near a window.