Smooth Sailing
Page 29
“I will.” The door closed and she turned her head so she didn’t have to see Kaatje’s beautiful image getting smaller and smaller.
*
Much later that day, after a change in Miami, Laurie landed in Cincinnati. She craved advice like a drug, and desperately hoped her mother could help. They could have talked more on the phone, but with Kaatje always being around it was hard to let loose and get everything off her chest. Being there in person would surely help. It simply had to.
She was surprised to see just her Mom waiting for her in the car. “Where are the girls?” They’d always come to the airport to pick her up and would fight over who got to sit with her in the back.
“It’s a school night, honey. They have to be in bed by nine.”
“Oh. I forgot. It seems like the middle of summer to me.”
“I bet it does. Are you sad?” She put her hand on Laurie’s shoulder.
“If this is sad, I hope I never get depressed.”
*
There was nothing to do the next day. Everyone was at work, leaving hours of time to obsess. On her second day, Laurie went to the office with her mom, the office manager of the family lighting business. She was determined to fill her day with something—even if it meant dusting the display fixtures as she’d done when she was a child.
She actually did spend two hours dusting, but her mother was finally able to take time out for lunch. They went to a local restaurant to avoid being interrupted by the constantly ringing phone.
Her mom had been suitably sympathetic and a very willing ear the first evening, but now she was full of questions. “Tell me about your offer to buy another boat,” she said, picking at her salad.
“I told you about it weeks ago—the first time Kaatje shot me down. I’d sell my house and use the proceeds to buy a second catamaran. We could get one as nice as The Flying Dutchwoman if we bought one a few years old. I’d captain that one and we’d try to find bigger groups to take longer trips. There’s a lot more money in that.”
“And why doesn’t Kaatje want that?”
“I told you, Mom. She says it’d be double the work for her, since I’m not a real sailor, and she’s sure there isn’t enough business to keep both boats busy. She says it’d be a lot more worry for a small profit.”
“And why do you think you know more than she does about her business?”
Laurie stabbed a French fry with her fork. “Don’t think I didn’t notice how you framed that question. It’s not that I know more than she does. But she doesn’t think big. She leaves money on the table all of the time.” She adopted what she thought was a pretty good imitation of Kaatje’s Caribbean/Dutch/English accent. “I don’t take clients if I don’t like them. Life’s too short to deal with idiots.” She shook her head. “Can you imagine how broke you’d be if that’s how you ran your business?”
“No, but if I could afford to, I’d do it in a minute.”
“Well, I don’t think you can run a business like you do your personal life. I bet dad agrees with me.”
“I’m sure he does. That’s why he works seventy hours a week. That’s also why I have to light a stick of dynamite under him to get him to take a vacation.”
“A business is a hard thing to be responsible for, Mom. He has a lot of people who depend on him.”
Becky looked like she was going to make a snappish reply, but she sat quietly for a few moments. “He’s almost sixty. Our house is paid off, our kids are grown, and there’s plenty of money in the college fund for our grandkids. What are we working for? When do we get to do what I want?”
Touched, Laurie reached out and covered her mother’s hand with her own. “What do you want?”
“I want to be with Kaatje,” she said, smirking. She pulled her hand away and added, “I don’t want to have sex with a woman, but I’d love to live in the Caribbean and The Netherlands and travel around Europe. I’ve never even been to Canada.”
“You were in Japan.”
“Yes, we were, and I loved it. But we only saw a bit of Osaka and the park…which was wonderful, honey. You know how proud I am of you. But I want more out of life than making sure the people of Cincinnati have adequate lighting in their homes. I want to travel and get up late and do something I can feel a little embarrassed about. I’ve never done one thing I’d be afraid to tell my mother. That’s an awful thing to admit.”
“Are you…unhappy?”
“Well…” Becky took a long breath. “I could be happier. Work is the way I make money. It doesn’t give me true happiness.”
“It does me,” Laurie said sadly. “It truly does.”
“Then you might as well be honest with Kaatje and let her find someone who shares her values.”
“I share her values!”
“No, on a very important level, you don’t. If you really loved her, you’d put her first. It’s that simple. You’re not treating Kaatje any differently than you did Colin. I hate to say this, honey, but I don’t think you’re the kind of person who can be in a relationship. You should just have some flings with other workaholics.”
Laurie’s eyes filled with tears, and she struggled valiantly to control them. “How can you say that?”
Becky reached over and grasped her hand, squeezing it tightly. “I hate to hurt you, baby. I’m just being as honest as I can be. Kaatje is waiting for you to make up your mind, and I hate to see her get more hurt than she already is.”
“But you don’t mind hurting me!”
“Yes, I do. Of course I do. But you’ll be fine. You’ll get a new project and you won’t notice the years flying by. Kaatje’s not like that. It will take her a long time to get over you.”
“God damn it, Mom! You make it sound like I have no soul.”
“Not at all, honey. You’re a very caring, very loyal woman. But if you can let Kaatje go over a job…you should…for her sake.”
*
They’d spoken every day, but the conversations were short and not very sweet. Kaatje had pulled way back, exposing very little of her soft side. That night, Laurie reached her when Kaatje was already in bed, and she could clearly imagine just how she looked—naked, hair mussed, her beautiful eyes heavy with sleep. “Hi, I just wanted to check in.”
“Hi. I’ve got about two minutes of sentience left. I had a boat full of kids. Well, just four, but it seemed like twenty.”
“Well, I didn’t have anything to say. Other than I miss you.”
“That’s good.” The emotion in that sentence couldn’t have filled an eyedropper. “A buddy is going to give the boat its checkup, so I’m flying out tomorrow. I got a surprisingly good last-minute fare.”
“Wow, that’s fast. I thought you were going to go down island.”
“I was. But they’re predicting a mild hurricane season. I’m gonna take a risk.” Her voice grew quiet. “I need to get out of here.”
“Okay.” Laurie did her best to keep her tears in check. “I guess I won’t be able to talk to you tomorrow.”
“No, I got a non-stop. I’ll be in the air all day.” There was a strained silence. “Look, it’s expensive to call Holland, and not much is going on. Let’s just…check in when we have something to report.”
Laurie couldn’t reply. She bit her lip and found herself rocking back and forth, trying to soothe herself with a hug. How could Kaatje not even want to talk anymore? Were they enemies now?
“Hey,” Kaatje said, her own voice rough with emotion. “It doesn’t make sense to talk every day. It’s screwing with my emotions. I stare at the phone all day hoping you’ll call to say you’re coming ho—back.”
“I’m so sorry, Kaatje. If I could put it into words, you’d know how much I want to be with you. It’s just…”
“I know. Call me when you make up your mind…one way or the other.”
“You can always call me.” She realized as it came out how rude that sounded. Like she was a bigger person. “No matter what happens, I love you and I care for you. I
f you need to talk, no one understands this better than I do.”
Letting out a big breath, Kaatje said, “I appreciate that. But…”
“All right. I’ll call you soon.”
“Okay. Bye.”
No proclamations of love, no sweet words, not even a wish for a good night’s sleep. It was a very steep drop from love to loss.
*
After four days with her family, Laurie had to get back to LA. She’d been bored silly bumping around at the store during the day, and her nieces were now old enough to be involved in after-school sports and music lessons. That left her with a ton of time to sulk and mourn, and those were two of her least favorite pastimes.
A day after arriving back in LA, she arranged to meet Fernando for a drink after work. Knowing his habits, she told him to call her when he was in his car, headed for the bar. At seven thirty she heard his sheepish voice ask, “How about dinner instead of drinks?”
“Is that okay with Marisol?”
“Oh, sure. She and the kids ate at six. Now they’re all at a basketball practice. I swear, the boys are always gone now that they’re in middle school.”
“I know how it feels. My nieces didn’t sit next to me waiting for me to read to them when I was there. It seems they’ve learned how to do that all on their own.”
“Ingrates,” Fernando said, only partially sounding like he was teasing.
*
They settled on a little Mexican dive not far from the office. The food was mediocre, but it was close and they made their tortillas on site, which was a big plus. Fernando had been there so many times he knew the menu by heart and Laurie always let him order for her.
They sipped their margaritas and sampled the surprisingly spicy guacamole. “New cook?” she asked.
“Yeah. The food’s better. This guy knows how to use spices. “He loaded up another corn chip and took a bite. “You don’t look happy. Being in love isn’t easy, is it.”
“No.” She took a bite as well. “It always was before.”
“Until your boyfriends broke up with you,” he said, his dark eyes glimmering in the candlelight.
“Yeah, that part sucked, but things were good while we were together.”
“I understand. Marisol is the only woman I’ve ever known who doesn’t give me a hard time about work.”
“She knew you before you started dating, and she’s a team member. There were no surprises.”
“Yeah, that’s part of it. Maybe that’s what you need. Find a nice woman here at Luxor, then you’ll both know how demanding these jobs are. It’s much easier that way.”
“But I don’t want another woman,” she said earnestly. “I want Kaatje.”
“She seems great, not to mention pretty. But you can’t sit on a boat for months at a time.” He laughed, clearly amused at the very thought. “You might be able to run one of our cruise ships, but even that would bore you.”
“No, I could do that. But when they have a senior VP running a cruise ship, Honey Bear will be pole dancing on board every night.”
“Yuck. That bear is not hot!” He laughed, then sat there contemplatively. “Do you really miss her?”
“More than I can ever say.”
“Then suck it up and go back to her. I’d quit if I could.”
She peered at him closely. “Would you really?”
“Hell, yes. You know my plan. Once our stock is at the right price and my retirement account is fat enough, I’m gone.”
“I thought you were gone at fifty, no matter what.”
“Well, that’s what I’d like, but I can’t do that if the stock price is down. If I’m never going to work again, I need to have a cushion.”
“And what will you do when you retire?”
He grinned, looking relaxed and happy. “Spend a lot more time with Marisol and the boys. That’s the biggest item on my agenda.”
“Yeah, what else?”
“Spend more time with my parents in Puebla.”
She didn’t comment that his father was over seventy and not in the best of health. “What else?”
“I’ll work on my golf game. I’ve never had time to get as good as I know I can be. And I might buy a boat. I’ve got those jet skis, but a boat would be more fun. The boys would like it too.”
“That sounds good, but could it keep you happy?”
“Oh, sure. I’d love to sit under the avocado tree out in my parents’ backyard and just watch the world go by. I could do that for hours.”
Laurie looked at him, noting how happy he seemed when lost in that dream. But his kids would be in college when he was fifty, his parents would probably be dead, and he and Marisol would be riding around alone in a powerboat. That would keep him busy for about a week. And he would never, ever have the patience to play golf, a sport he was dreadful at. They were far too much alike, and the thought chilled her to the bone.
*
They ate and were lingering over shots of Kahlua when Fernando said, “Corporate wants you to make a decision soon. If they’re going to go to bat for Kaatje, they need to get on it. If not…they want you to take on another project.”
“I know.” She leaned over and rested her head on her folded hands. “I just don’t know what I want to do—if I come back. Will they give me another month?”
“Probably.” He rolled his eyes. “Of course they will. But then they’ll want you to hit the ground running. I’ve got some options if you want to hear them.”
“No, not now. I have to make up my mind about Luxor or Kaatje. If it’s Luxor, I want to be picky this time, because I’m gunning for the top.”
“That sounds fair. While you’re deciding, why don’t you think of what it is about your past assignments that you liked. That might help you narrow things down if you decide to come back.”
She grinned at him. “I’ve been making decisions that way since I could write. I’ll start on it tonight.
*
There was no job in the world that was equivalent to Kaatje. It seemed like such a no-brainer. But it wasn’t. Loving someone and making a life together was more than attraction and shared interests and similar moral codes. The quotidian struggles and joys of work and accomplishment meant so much more than they should. But it was true. Hard to admit, but true. Many marriages seemed to be between people who were once powerfully attracted to each other, but after that rush of emotions died down, there was little left. And Kaatje was too wonderful a woman to be stuck in that situation. If they couldn’t both be fulfilled, they’d have to break up. It was horrible to consider, but the only fair option.
Introspection and soul searching weren’t fun, and they took a surprisingly long time. But Fernando had made a good suggestion. She would think of parts of jobs, skills, tasks and concepts that made work fun. Knowing what made work elemental to her personality would make it easier to figure out if there was any way to find what she needed in Kaatje’s world.
The final list took three days, but there were threads that carried through. She liked being in charge, making changes, streamlining processes, working as part of a team that she led, and having a budget that she controlled. She didn’t like needless reporting, status meetings, people who didn’t understand her job trying to implement changes, and most of all—needless reporting. She knew that was at the top and bottom of the list, but it had been the bane of her existence. No one liked working all day then having to tell people what they’d done, but she hated it more than most. The higher she’d gone in the organization, the more she’d hated it.
Looking back, she realized that all Fernando did was plan for the long term, write and demand that others write status reports, and go to meetings. He was one hundred percent desk bound, and she knew she’d be the same in a year or two at the most. That was chilling, but it was a fact of life. The higher you went the less you actually did. Your salary went up, as did your responsibilities, but you could do little about the actual work. All you could do was write reports explaining why pe
ople two, three, or six levels below you had messed something up or had done something well. Usually the former. She would hate that kind of job, but there was no other kind at Luxor or any other major corporation. And that sucked.
*
Fernando called two days later, at the impolite hour of seven in the morning. “I hate to do this to you, but I can only get you an extension on your sabbatical if you’ll commit to a new project. Actually…” he paused, and she knew it was bad news, “Warren would like you to fly down to Miami and meet with Ken Stopack. They’re reorganizing and they’re thinking of having all the hotels and resorts report to him. He needs a deputy and Warren thinks you’re the right person. The job would fill out your experience, since you haven’t ever had a big staff reporting to you.”
Her stomach sank, but a chill of excitement also chased down her spine. “Big is right. What’s the headcount?”
“Around a hundred thousand.”
“That’s a very, very big staff. When does he want me to do this?”
“He’d like your thoughts by Monday.”
“This is Wednesday,” she said flatly. “I’m supposed to make up my mind about my whole future in two business days?”
He chuckled. “I don’t think Warren knows you’re making a decision about your whole future. He thinks it’s just a step on your career ladder. He probably thinks you’ll be upset to leave LA, but that’s about it.”
“I’d leave LA for a good pizza. But I’m really not ready to make a decision, Fernando. Is there any way to hold off on this?”
“Sure. You tell me how to get Warren off an idea he’s latched onto.” He waited a few seconds. “Got anything?”
“No. I’ll think about it and let you know by the end of the day.”
“Which part? The job or the trip to Miami?”
“The latter. I’ve gotta go. I need to clear my mind and think about my life.”