Humbled

by Patricia Haley

Fifteen minutes evaporated, and Joel was anxious to get moving. He had urgent matters to handle.

  “It was nice seeing you,” he told her, wrapping up their conversation.

  “You too,” she responded. Samantha reached into her purse but kept her gaze locked on Joel’s. “Here’s my card, in case you lost the other one. Perhaps we can do dinner sometime and reminisce with a bottle of wine instead of an espresso.”

  Joel took the card, and they parted. He pulled off in his car right after balling up the card and stuffing it into his pants pocket. He’d toss the card at the first opportunity, harboring no desire to pursue the invitation. If he didn’t know what to do with Zarah, there definitely wasn’t room for another woman. Those days were behind him or, at a minimum, on hold. Intrigue, passion, and a boatload of women had each contributed to his demise, as they’d scarfed down his attention. Pursuing prior indiscretions was too much torment. He had to move forward.

  During his two-mile ride to the house, God briefly entered his mind. He hadn’t forgotten his desire to establish a connection with Him, but he was realizing that fully committing to the Lord’s approach for restoring his life wasn’t easy. Giving up total control to anyone wasn’t his way. Doubt and a mixture of emotions took over, leaving Joel wandering. He needed a breakthrough, just one glimmer of success on the business front, and the rest would work out naturally. He accelerated, eager to see Zarah. She was the key.

  Chapter 33

  Joel was more relaxed during this visit than he’d been during the one last week, but he couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that Tamara was going to be waiting at the door, posing an inconvenience to him, as she typically did. He reached the house, parked, and forgot about Tamara. She was incidental in the grand scheme of what had to be accomplished during this visit. He approached the front door and paused, choosing not to use his key. The house was 100 percent Zarah’s for now, until he figured out how to organize each piece of the chaotic puzzle that was his life. He rapped on the door, and the housekeeper opened it.

  “It’s good to see you, Mr. Mitchell.”

  Greetings were exchanged, and Joel was directed into the kitchen, where he found Zarah leaning against the counter in her gown and robe.

  Zarah fumbled with the cup she was holding and spilled some type of liquid onto the floor and her clothes. “Joel, I didn’t realize you were coming for a visit,” she sputtered.

  Joel was tickled but didn’t want to embarrass her. “I was in the area and wanted to stop by to see you. Is this a good time?”

  “Yes, of course,” she said, rushing to him, beaming with glee.

  He had only a few seconds to decide how far to go with the physical contact. Tossing caution out the window, Joel embraced Zarah. An unexpected surge of passion overcame him, and he opted to hold her longer. She offered no resistance. Joel eventually pulled away, took her by the hand, and gently guided her through the foyer, the family room, out the French doors, and onto the patio. Several times he felt her tense up, but he didn’t stop. Joel wanted to speak with her privately and in a different setting than they normally chose. This could possibly be a new start for him and them as a couple, and he wasn’t going to let up until Zarah understood the sincerity of his appeal.

  “I would have prepared for your visit if you’d told me you were coming.”

  He lifted both her hands and extended his arms. “You look amazing, no matter what you’re wearing,” he said and twirled her around slowly. She looked like she was going to burst with elation. Joel was glad she was in a good mood. The more positive she felt going into their conversation, the better his chances of getting a favorable outcome. His request had to work; there was nothing else left for him.

  “You’re doing well with the pregnancy, right?” he asked, taking a seat in one of the patio chairs. She followed his lead.

  “I am well,” she replied, laying her hand on her stomach.

  “I want you to get plenty of rest and not to work too much.”

  “I am very pleased about your concern. You will be pleased to know I’m getting my rest and taking very good care of our baby. This baby will have the best chance to be born healthy and strong, just like its father,” she said and reached over and touched Joel’s hand.

  More chitchat might be warranted and might be a wiser approach, but Joel didn’t have the patience. He was exploding with anxiety and wanted to say the right words. He would rely on the premise that in a marriage there was mutual support, mutual help, and mutual sacrifice. He was willing to help Zarah and had to believe she was willing to return the favor. He’d soon see.

  “How’s the presentation coming along for the DMI board of directors meeting?” he asked.

  “I am ready, except for a few more questions,” she said, rubbing her stomach.

  “If you need any more help, just let me know.” He paused. “Speaking of DMI, I have been giving more thought to the West Coast division.”

  “You don’t have to worry. I have not spoken to Don about the division since you were here last week,” Zarah stated.

  “That’s good, real good, but this isn’t about Don.”

  She wiggled to the edge of the chair; a distressed look was on her face. He had no intention of letting her stew. He wanted this over and done quickly.

  He went on. “I’d like to put in an official offer to buy the division from you.” Her distress didn’t appear to diminish, but he wasn’t going to let that sway him. This had to be done. “Zarah, you have no idea how important this is to me,” he said, kneeling in front of her with her hands nestled in his. “I have run out of other ideas. You’re my lifeline. The West Coast division would allow me to get reestablished in the corporate sector. Please don’t say no. I’m serious. This is the most important priority in my life right now.”

  He didn’t care about the legal technicality blocking his ownership. They could hire a team of lawyers to dissect the clause Zarah’s father had included in his will. Worse case, they could sell the division to his mother and she could transfer ownership to him. There were ways around the obstacle. Nothing could dissuade him.

  Zarah pulled her hands from his grip with force. Tears filled her eyes. “I am very tired. I must go for a nap.”

  “Why? Are you ill?” he asked.

  She’d been fine a few seconds ago. Unless the baby was in duress, he needed her to stay and finish the discussion. He was absolutely certain his chance to buy the West Coast division was fleeting with sharks like Tamara and Don circling. If he could convince her to stay outside with him, Joel was fairly sure she’d have compassion for his plight and agree to sell the division. He refused to accept any other outcome. Yet he had to confirm that Zarah and the baby were okay.

  “Why don’t you take a deep breath and rest here?” he said. “There’s no hurry to go anywhere or do anything. I’m here. I can take care of you and the baby.”

  Tears streamed down her cheeks. “I will be fine after a nap. Please excuse me. I must go.”

  Relieved that there wasn’t a problem with the pregnancy, he instantly resumed his appeal. “Before you go, can I get an answer about the division?”

  She didn’t answer. Instead, she whimpered as her tears flowed freely. He rose to get out of her way. She didn’t utter another sound, didn’t say “Good-bye” or “See you later,” not a word. He stood there, unable to move, as she retreated into the house and slammed the door on his future. Stunned, he gathered up the dignity to walk out of the house without letting the depth of his rejection show. Joel moseyed through the house, and when he opened the front door to leave, there stood the knife in his backside—Tamara. He was a wounded lion seeking a secure place to lick his wounds. He didn’t have the heart to go a fresh round with a formidable opponent. He prayed she’d offer him a way to escape.

  “I didn’t expect to see you here,” she said. “It’s about time you started checking on your wife and baby, especially since Zarah doesn’t have any other family in the United States except for me and your t
rifling behind.”

  Joel decided to take a lesson from Zarah and walk away without speaking. Any other day it would have been difficult not to spar with Tamara. Fortunately for Tamara, she’d caught him on a day when he didn’t care. He stepped around her and went to his car, speeding off to nowhere in particular, so long as it was away from there.

  Chapter 34

  Tamara enjoyed toying with Joel and watching him squirm. Once in a while it was therapeutic for him to get a dose of his own hoity-toity medicine. She took satisfaction in knocking him down a peg. She walked inside the house since Joel had left the front door open. She panned the room and didn’t see anyone.

  “Hello,” she called out. She roamed around several rooms until the housekeeper surfaced. “The door was open,” she said pointing in the direction of the door. “So I came in. I hope you don’t mind.”

  “You’re fine. Is Mrs. Mitchell expecting you?”

  “No, not really,” Tamara stated. “Is she busy?” She figured Zarah was home since Joel had been there.

  “She wasn’t well after Mr. Mitchell’s visit.”

  Not surprising, Tamara thought. He had a sickening effect on people. “Where is she?”

  “Upstairs, in the master suite.”

  Tamara ran to the stairs and began ascending them.

  “Wait. I’ll let Mrs. Mitchell know you’re here,” the housekeeper said, hustling to the staircase. She was too late to catch Tamara, who was practically at the top of the staircase.

  “Don’t worry. She won’t mind if I pop my head in to check on her. Besides, I’m family,” Tamara announced, figuring the added dash of clout would assuage the housekeeper’s concern. It must have worked, because she ended the pursuit. Tamara was more relieved than she appeared.

  Tamara wandered around upstairs for a few minutes. She hadn’t gone upstairs before and didn’t have an inkling about which room was the master. After opening the door to five rooms situated on a long hallway, she reached the end. To her left was a massive double-door entryway, which had to be the master. Her legs weren’t going fast enough. She was anxious to see Zarah.

  As Tamara approached the double doors, she could hear faint whimpering. She walked briskly into the room as the whimpering intensified. From her vantage point, she saw Zarah lying across the bed. Tamara rushed to her side.

  “What’s wrong? What did Joel do?” she asked. She’d continue asking until she got an answer. Tamara’s fury was being aroused, and it wouldn’t take long to gather steam.

  “Go away please. I don’t feel much up to a visit. Please leave me,” Zarah wheezed and buried her face in the mound of pillows thrown across the bed.

  Tamara was torn between honoring the request and not leaving Zarah in a pitifully distraught state. Compassion won out. She’d stay. “What did Joel say or do to upset you?” Tamara asked, gently resting her hand on Zarah’s shoulder.

  Her sister-in-law flinched from the contact. Tamara wasn’t dismayed. She pressed on, committed to finding out what that brother of hers had done.

  “You can tell me. Maybe I can help.” As if Tamara had inserted the correct key in a lock, Zarah sat up and glided her fingertips beneath her tear-soaked eyes. Tamara moved a bit to give her sister-in-law ample space. “Is this about Joel?”

  Zarah nodded in affirmation.

  Tamara had figured as much. How much more could he get away with before Zarah shut him down? Getting mad wasn’t going to fix the problem. Tamara kept quiet. It was the only way she could avoid saying the wrong thing and having to apologize later. She fidgeted instead.

  Zarah stood and journeyed to the sitting area but didn’t sit. Tamara followed and took a seat. “My husband came for a visit. I was very pleased to have him come to check on me and the baby.” It sounded as if Joel was doing the right thing for a change, Tamara figured. Zarah got choked up. “I was pleased until I discovered he didn’t come for me or the baby.” Tamara was confused but didn’t interrupt. “He came to offer me money for the West Coast division.”

  “What?” Tamara said, leaping to her feet and reacting without weighing the cost. “You can’t sell him the division. I want that division more than anyone, and I’ll double whatever price he’s offering.” She couldn’t believe Joel had weaseled his way into the West Coast division conversation. Tamara wasn’t going to be blindsided and go down without a fight. Joel had better bring it on with heat if he was going to beat her in this deal.

  Zarah was dumbfounded and stood still, like a statue, not responding.

  “Did you hear me?” Tamara asked.

  “This is too much for me to handle today. No more talk of deals for me. I must rest for the baby,” Zarah said, finally taking a seat.

  Tamara wasn’t comfortable letting the conversation die and potentially losing her slice of the Mitchell Empire, but she couldn’t push too hard. Zarah didn’t look well. Tamara was forced to stand down and save the battle for another day. “Can I take you to the doctor or the hospital?”

  “No,” Zarah said, waving her off. “I just need rest, please.”

  “Are you sure?” Tamara asked, having set aside her “mogul hat” and evincing only the affection of a friend.

  “I am sure.”

  Tamara expressed her support again and then left the room. She would continue the discussion later. She had to find a way to get the West Coast division. She felt justified in her pursuit. After all, she wasn’t asking for much. It was DMI’s smallest division, representing only a tiny corner of the company, one that Joel had carelessly given away. He didn’t deserve the division. She did. Convincing Zarah was the tricky mission.

  Chapter 35

  Don pulled up to the twelve-foot-tall wrought-iron gates leading into his mother’s estate, the home of his youth. He had mixed memories, some harmonious blended with a nearly equal share of tragedy. He was six years old when his parents divorced and he, his mother, and his siblings moved from their real home into this place without Dave. His mother made every effort to make their lives pleasant and filled with love. She did a pretty good job from his perspective, but history told a modified story. The four children who were raised in this house, Don included, had problems. Don briefly nursed accounts of the past and then quickly tossed them aside. He wasn’t going to get sucked into a state of doubt, doom, and regrets. He expeditiously pushed the buzzer to open the gates.

  His mother answered and buzzed him in. Don zoomed along the quarter-mile driveway, which was more like a road. He cleared his head of the depressing memories. He was homing in on the present and the task of stabilizing DMI’s leadership team. Madeline and Don had been talking on and off for several days about what to do. No solid plan had materialized, only bits and pieces. Since Madeline wasn’t coming into the office today, she’d asked him to drop by for lunch. Apparently, she had an epiphany to share. He was cautiously curious. His mother’s ideas didn’t always fall within his boundaries. He came anyway. Putting this issue to rest was his priority, as it would free him from the weighty role of CEO. He exited the car, willing to keep an open mind and listen before countering.

  He found her in the kitchen, and they did their usual greeting sealed with a hug. Don had clung to his mother from his early childhood years. She seemed to make his tough situations easier when he was growing up. Interacting with her as an adult brought a different set of dynamics. Madeline was a lot to manage, but nonetheless, she was his hero.

  “Jeez, why do you have this much food? Is someone else joining us for lunch?” Don asked, seeing the spread of salad, pasta, sandwiches, fruit, and cookies.

  “No one but the two of us,” she answered. “That seems to be our story these days, just the two of us against the world.”

  He detected the softening of her voice and steered her away from a sad moment. “Let’s dig in while you tell me what has you so fired up.” He grabbed a plate and began loading food onto it. His mother did the same.

  They sat at the table.

  “I’ve done nothing but thi
nk about how to change Tamara’s mind about DMI and get her on board. I have racked my brain and finally have a potential solution,” she said, waving her index finger in the air and giving him a controlled grin.

  Don was intrigued. “You have the floor. Tell me what you’ve concocted,” he stated and took a bite of his pastrami sandwich.

  “Oh, come on,” she said, playfully swatting his shoulder. “Concocted sounds like a witch brewing up a spell.”

  “Well, if the broom fits, ride it,” he replied, toying with Madeline, glad to see her moving far away from the sadness that had tried to surface a few minutes ago.

  “That’s no way to talk about your mother,” she said, snickering.

  “You’re tough. I know you can handle it. Now, tell me about this plan of yours, Broom Hilda,” he said, laughing into his napkin.

  She rolled her eyes at him and smirked. Madeline slid her plate toward the middle of the table. “Here’s what I’m thinking. We know none of the DMI divisions were structured to run as stand-alone companies.”

  Don agreed. “Dad was adamant about keeping the company together.”

  “You’re right. He told Joel, practically on his deathbed, not to let DMI get broken into pieces. And look what Joel did. Exactly what your father told him not to do.”

  “Selling two out of the four divisions almost drove the company into financial ruin. Apparently, Father knew more than we did about this.”

  “Of course he did. Your father was a wise man when it came to running DMI. I’ve never doubted his aptitude. Now, his personal choices were a totally different story.”

  “And we don’t want to go there, do we?”

  Madeline poked at the pasta on her plate with her fork. “No, we don’t.”

  “And you were saying,” Don said, attempting to steer her clear of the ditch named Dave and Sherry Mitchell.

  She instantly perked up and returned to the topic at hand. ”I was saying, what if we push Zarah aggressively to sell us the West Coast division? We could fold it back into DMI, where it rightfully belongs.”