Book Read Free

Flash Flood

Page 1

by DiAnn Mills




  ISBN 1-59310-794-3

  FLASH FLOOD

  Copyright © 2005 by DiAnn Mills. All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the permission of Truly Yours, an imprint of Barbour Publishing, Inc., PO Box 721, Uhrichsville, Ohio 44683.

  Our mission is to publish and distribute inspirational products offering exceptional value and biblical encouragement to the masses.

  All of the characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to actual events is purely coincidental.

  All scripture quotations, unless otherwise indicated, are taken from the HOLY BIBLE, NEW INTERNATIONAL VERSION®. NIV®. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984 by International Bible Society. Used by permission of Zondervan Publishing House. All rights reserved.

  PRINTED IN THE U.S.A.

  one

  Monday, March 14, 10:00 a.m.

  “Excuse me, could you repeat that?” Beads of perspiration dotted Alina Marlow’s face. Her heart pounded in her ears, and her stomach did a wild twist. Surely she misunderstood the announcement. She moistened her lips and peered into her boss’s face.

  Fred Lineman, owner of Flash Communications, rose from his leather executive chair. He cleared his throat and coughed, the telltale sign of his heavy smoking days. Lines in his tanned face, which Alina hadn’t noticed before, were the characteristics of a weathered old man. Granted, he’d experienced some health issues, but when had this happened?

  “Alina, and the rest of you,” he said, glancing around the paneled boardroom, “I know this comes as quite a shock, and I assure you my decision did not come without a good deal of deliberation, many sleepless nights, and much prayer. I’d like to explain the buyout in more detail.” He reached for the pitcher and poured a glass of water. His hand trembled.

  Alina observed his uncharacteristic behavior, but the questions blaring across her mind demanded answers. “Why weren’t we informed of this earlier?” The moment the words left her mouth, she regretted her selfish attitude. Fred needed support from his leadership team, not criticism from a key member.

  “Because there was nothing any of you could do.” Fred set the glass on the table. His pallor alarmed her, especially with his recent heart attack and his failure to lose any substantial amount of weight. “For some time now, the residents and business owners here in Radisen have pressed me to expand our services to include such things as high-definition TV, high-speed Internet, voice services, and home security. You’ve heard their complaints and requests just as I have. We’ve sat in this very room and discussed each issue. Several months ago, I began to investigate our options and resigned myself to the facts at hand. I had to either make a major investment into Flash or find a company that could better serve our customers. In addition, my doctor and my wife are insisting I retire.” He glanced around the boardroom, briefly making eye contact with every employee present. “We are a small-town business. Even if retirement wasn’t in the picture, I’d need to do what’s best for our customers. This means a buyout from Neon Interchange, a global company equipped with the latest technology.”

  “What does Neon’s buyout mean for us?” asked James Ferguson, the installation foreman. Since James was known for defending his men and having a quick temper, his reddened face came as no surprise.

  Alina shifted in her chair. James, don’t lose it. I want to know what this means for me, too.

  “I’m not completely sure what the takeover will entail, but on Friday you’ll have the opportunity to pose your questions to Neon’s regional director. He and I will be working in a closed session tomorrow through Thursday to discuss the details and procedures.”

  “When will Neon officially take over?” Alina swallowed hard. I can’t lose control of my emotions here.

  The older man looked grim, and why not? He’d started Flash Communications in his garage and watched it grow into a viable business. His chest rose and fell with a deep sigh. “I’d estimate about three months. You’ll know more at Friday morning’s meeting.”

  “Will we lose our jobs?” asked Deidre Blackman, Alina’s dear friend and secretary.

  “It’s possible some of you might need to seek different employment.” Fred’s concerned gaze swept around the room as though he spoke to family.

  James tossed his pencil across the mahogany table. “Great. Radisen is certainly not known as a hub of job opportunities, unless you want to take to fishing on the Ohio River.”

  “I’m sorry, folks,” Fred said. “I’m not happy about this either. What I want you to understand is that this didn’t come easy for me.” He gathered up the file folder before him. “Please save the rest of your questions until the meeting on Friday. I want to give you accurate information.” He nodded and left the meeting—a first for the otherwise personable owner of Flash Communications, who never left the boardroom before his employees.

  Two sealed boxes of donuts sat in the middle of the table. Full pitchers of water and two decanters of the finest coffee hadn’t been touched. Stunned, Alina allowed Fred’s announcement to settle into her brain. The frustration she’d tried to mask at the beginning of the meeting now surfaced to a near boil. How could he spring this news on them without some type of warning? He’d always been open and honest about the company’s dealings. Board meetings were a time to toss around ideas, discuss customers’ problems, and brainstorm about how to better serve the community. As a solid Christian, Fred began each session with prayer for guidance and wisdom. Obviously he’d elected to forgo any direction with this decision. A man of God—a good shepherd—took care of his people; he didn’t shove them out of their livelihood.

  Alina willed herself to calm down. Anger and misguided thoughts didn’t solve a thing. She heard the others grumbling but didn’t want to discuss any of the new information with them, especially with her frenzied emotions. Besides, none of them had answers—only questions ushered in by all the fears involved with a potential job loss. No doubt they all felt betrayed, like she did. The big guns had won again; advanced technology and more money to buy out the smaller companies had the advantage.

  Alina heard her name, and she peered up into Deidre’s tiny face. Of Vietnamese and American descent, Deidre possessed tremendous beauty. But her inward beauty came from a deep love for the Lord and those around her. Of all the staff, Deidre held the trophy for true employee loyalty: ever faithful, always kind, and full of optimism. Right now, Alina didn’t want to hear any generous statements about Neon Interchange or Flash Communications, neither did she want to be placated into thinking all was right with the world.

  “I’m a little upset right now.” Alina shook her head. If only she could dispel the doubts and worries plaguing her mind.

  Deidre touched her arm. “I understand. When you’re ready, we can talk. This will work out; wait and see.”

  Alina bit back a nasty remark. Deidre didn’t deserve a dose of Alina’s wrath, and neither did Fred. “There has to be a solution. The idea of looking for another job petrifies me. And I wonder what I’d do without a paycheck to support Anna.”

  “If I say God will provide a way, it will only upset you.” Deidre toyed with her watch, then gathered up her laptop.

  “I’m sorry. I know you and Clay have your parents to support—along with providing for your children. You, of all people, understand how critical this is. I’m not doubting God; I simply wish He’d warn us about setbacks.”

  Deidre nodded. “This is a stretch for my faith, too.” She raised her shoulders and smiled. “I have brothers and sisters to help with my parents’ care. Anna just has you.”

  Al
ina would make sure Deidre had a box of chocolates and a bouquet of daisies on her desk before the day ended, along with a note of apology. Friends didn’t treat friends without love and respect.

  Thoughts of Alina’s mentally challenged twin sister raced through her mind. She’d taken on the financial burden of Anna’s care since high school days when her mother’s limited income failed to support the expensive facility, and Alina didn’t take her responsibility lightly. The concerns weren’t about herself; she’d find another job and get by. But with the possibility of her losing her job and of her sweet sister no longer obtaining excellent medical care …

  I’m second in command here. There’s no danger of me losing my job. I’m important to this company. Fred tells me so all the time. I need to relax. I’m overreacting.

  With an air of determination, Alina powered down her laptop and left the boardroom. Whether Fred wanted to talk or not, she intended to discuss this ludicrous idea. She could pick up the slack, and he could cut his work hours in half. She’d make it work. She knew how.

  Fred’s closed office door should have deterred her, but Alina needed answers before Friday. Company protocol stood in second place when it came to friendship. She had to offer assistance and find a way to save Flash from the hard tactics of big business.

  Confrontation is healthy medicine. Clears the air and gets rid of the junk that smells. This will work out.

  Ignoring Fred’s secretary, she knocked lightly on his door and stepped inside without waiting for permission. Closing the door behind her, Alina drew in a sharp breath. Fred’s face was buried in his hands, while his Bible lay open on his desk. The impulse to leave him to his privacy nudged at her spirit, but she simply couldn’t. Not today. Not this issue.

  “Alina.” He failed to look up. “My door is closed. That means no one is to interrupt me.”

  “I have an idea.” Her voice shook, ripping apart her confidence.

  “Believe me. I’ve played out every scenario imaginable. I have to retire, and I have to sell Flash.”

  “But, Fred—”

  “What part of ‘Do not disturb” do you not understand?”

  His sharp response startled her. “I’m sorry, Fred, but I can’t leave until I have a few answers.”

  He stared up into her face. Weariness cemented lines in his face, leaving no doubt as to his sixty-three years. “I don’t have any more to say than you’ve already heard. Now please leave me alone.”

  Still holding on to the laptop cradled in her arms, she braved forward. “I believe you haven’t worked through all the options. I think you’re hiding something from the rest of us. This isn’t fair. We could have helped with a solution.”

  Fred’s fist pounded against his desk. “Never, Alina, never in all the years I have known you have I ever stated that you were out of line. Flash Communications is my business, and what I do with it isn’t your concern. You, above everyone here, should know how I feel about this company.”

  The words stung. Fred and his wife, Marta, had been like parents to her. They’d shared holidays, company outings, church pews, prayer requests, and countless hours riding horses on their property. Still, the need to have matters resolved propelled her into the questions jarring her senses. “Why do we have to let a global company come in and take over things? We’re handling our customers just fine by ourselves.”

  Silence—and the scent of Fred’s old-fashioned lime aftershave—wafted around the room. She waited, not moving from her stance near the door or slipping into a chair in front of his mammoth wooden desk. The laptop in her arms felt heavy, cumbersome.

  “We are not properly taking care of our customers. We don’t have the capital to spend on a new infrastructure that is necessary to deliver the expanded services our customers are demanding and deserve. With Neon’s money and expertise, Flash will be able to provide the latest technology available in the industry.” His voice rose, and the creases in his forehead deepened. “Alone, it would take us years of increasing our rates to recoup the money required for such an upgrade to our network. The economy is such that the banks just won’t go out on a limb and loan us the necessary funds. None of this touches on what my work schedule is doing to my health. My wife deserves to have a husband during her retirement instead of spending her old age as a widow.”

  At last she understood. Fred had no choice. Selling Flash was killing him as much as it tormented her. The realization caused her to choke back sobs. I’m so selfish. All I’m thinking about is my own problems. “I apologize,” she whispered. “I’ve been wallowing in self-pity over the buyout and forgetting what this company really means to you.”

  “Alina, I sincerely don’t know who will have a job and who won’t.”

  “Of course.” She reached for the doorknob. “I’ll save the rest of my questions for Friday. I’m really sorry.” Without another word, she left the room and walked down the hall to her office. Neon Interchange. I hope they’re not out to bleed the life out of everyone here. I’m scared, really scared.

  The people of Radisen had gotten along just fine without all the extras. Why start now? They were a small town with good country folk as customers. A rash of new indignation surged through her body. She wanted to tell every one of those citizens that their demands had forced a family-owned business into a buyout—and placed a wonderful man’s health at risk. Fred’s work schedule resembled the hours of two men half his age. He knew every facet of the business and had the customers’ files memorized. His tireless work in the community—from volunteering his time and money, making donations to worthwhile charities, and visiting shut-ins at the hospital on Sunday afternoon—was a part of Fred Lineman.

  Alina wanted to fix it all. The thought of her friends losing their source of income made her ill. Maybe if they all supported Fred and demonstrated optimism, Neon might decide to keep them all. For starters, she’d send a mass e-mail to all the employees urging them to work together as a team.

  She stopped at Deidre’s desk. “I’m springing for lunch today—for everyone in the office. Order out for pizza. I refuse to allow bad attitudes to spread in here like poison ivy.”

  “Your discussion with Fred must have paid off.”

  “Not exactly. I’ve been hit with a case of guilt for my insensitive response to Fred. He deserves better than my sarcasm—even if I don’t end up with a job.”

  two

  Monday, 6:00 p.m.

  Once Alina left work for the day, she drove to visit Anna in the picturesque facility for the mentally challenged. The drive to the home, nestled in southern Ohio, featured winding roads lined with oak and pine trees. She munched on a grilled chicken sandwich and fries while she enjoyed the passing scenery. The setting always relaxed her and took the spin off the day’s hectic pace, but this evening was especially hard. She tried to relax her hold on the steering wheel while envisioning spring wildflowers in the weeks ahead instead of the snow that was piling up at the sides of the road. March—in like a lion, out like a lamb, drifted across her mind.

  She pressed the window button and let the cool air bathe her face. Freeing best described the sensation, as though all her troubles had vanished. No longer was she Alina Marlow, business executive, sometimes sharp and sometimes temperamental, the woman who worked overtime without pay and battled servicemen to fill work orders. Here, whizzing down the road with the wind blowing back her hair, she almost believed her world had been liberated from problems.

  A sign indicating the turnoff for Homeward Hills prompted Alina to take a right. She reached for the stuffed rabbit on the seat beside her. Anna loved soft things. She’d cuddle them to her cheek and giggle. Sweet Anna … Her oblivion to reality seemed like a blessing. Anna had not progressed since the date of her accident when the girls were three years old. In many ways she’d digressed even younger, and childhood toys and treats pleased her the most.

  A few moments later, Alina parked her car in the visitor area and snatched up Anna’s rabbit. A chill wrapped aroun
d her with the sun settling into the west, and she pulled her coat tighter. All of the day’s happenings suddenly washed over her like threatening storm clouds. Spring was supposed to be the season of hope and the anticipation of new life, but not this year, not with Neon taking over Flash Communications. For the moment, Alina felt reasonably secure in her job. I’m practically indispensable. She cringed at the thought. How futile.

  At times like these, she envied those who lived inside the rustic-looking facility, without the bothersome worries plaguing the rest of the world. The lodge effect, with the abundance of trees, gave comfort to those who had loved ones dwelling there.

  The elderly receptionist inside Homeward Hills greeted Alina by name. “Your sister is in the group room.”

  “Thanks. I’ll find her.” At the entrance of the huge area designated for games and visitation, Alina stood in the doorway and watched a staff member feed her sister applesauce. In addition to her obvious mental challenges, Anna spent her waking hours in a wheelchair and was slowly going blind in her left eye.

  Her dark-haired twin made laughing sounds. Anna’s speech lacked many words, but Alina had learned to distinguish what many of her sister’s vocalizations meant. At first, she didn’t want to disrupt her sister’s snack. Anna looked serene, almost radiant in her childlike mannerisms. The top and sides of her long, wavy hair, thick like Alina’s, had been brushed back and captured in a ponytail. Anna glanced up, and a wide smile spread across her face.

  Alina strode across the room and embraced the joy of her existence. “Hey, pretty girl,” she said. “I’m so glad to see you.”

  Anna giggled, then turned to the attendant and opened her mouth for another bite of applesauce.

  “I’d like to feed her,” Alina said.

  The attendant nodded and kissed the top of Anna’s head before relinquishing the plastic spoon to Alina. Her sister’s eyes widened, and she attempted to clap her hands. Alina pulled a chair next to her sister. “Oh, my sweet, sweet girl. I love you so much.”

 

‹ Prev