Desperate

by Daniel Palmer

  “Yes, you are,” Lily said. “You’re upset about the present and about what happened with Anna’s mother. Look, do you want me to go? Leave you guys? I thought you wanted this.”

  “We do,” Anna said, alarmed. “Gage, you stop this right now. Stop threatening her.”

  I could hear rage in Anna’s voice—spitfire anger spoken through clenched teeth.

  “I’m not threatening anyone,” I said. “I just want my necklace back.”

  “I didn’t take it,” Lily said. Her eyes had gone moist.

  Anna put her hands on Lily’s shoulders to calm her. The touch worked. Lily’s resolve returned as the gathering tears retreated.

  “Gage is just upset, Lily,” Anna said. “He doesn’t mean to take it out on you.”

  Lily gave me a look as if to say, Yes, he does.

  Without my prodding, Lily entered the bathroom. She walked in a slow, purposeful way, like a detective entering a crime scene. Her eyes scoured the pink tiled floor, scanning, probing, as if I had missed a spot. Then, she fixed her gaze on the medicine cabinet itself, studied it awhile, head tilting, looking and looking some more, before moving in closer for a more detailed inspection. I watched her run her hands along the edges of the cabinet, feeling the wall. I think I saw what she was noticing. Plastic anchors had been used to secure the cabinet to the wall and over time they had loosened some, creating a small gap between the back of the cabinet and the wall where it was hanging.

  “Get me a screwdriver,” Lily said. “I think I know what happened.” I huffed. “You sound like Encyclopedia Brown,” I said, thinking I’d muttered that under my breath.

  “Gage!” Anna snapped.

  “Who is that?” Lily asked.

  “Never mind,” I said, bending down to get underneath the sink where I happen to keep a screwdriver for the occasional plumbing project. I handed the tool to Lily.

  “What do you have in mind, Lily?” I asked.

  “Well, something like this happened to me before,” Lily said. “Not with something so sentimental, but it was a chain.”

  “You think my necklace is behind the medicine cabinet?” I asked.

  Lily nodded.

  “Yeah, a flick of a towel, you move your hands, brush against it, something, and it comes off the corner, but instead of falling to the floor it gets stuck between the back of the medicine cabinet and the wall.”

  “Then let me help you take it down,” I said. “It’s got slots on the back where it’s attached to the wall anchors. We just need to lift it.”

  I had to admit that Lily was good, damn good. Of course there wasn’t going to be any necklace behind the medicine cabinet. She was a clever girl, though, making a clever smoke screen. I’m sure if Anna and I went looking (and not very hard) through her apartment (really my apartment, as she hadn’t signed any official lease) we would find the necklace among her belongings. Maybe I’d have to do a little B&E of my own.

  I held one side of the medicine cabinet while Lily held the other.

  “Okay, ready to lift?” I said. “It’s not light.”

  Anna’s expression became worried. “Lily, should you be lifting anything heavy?” she asked. She took a few steps toward Lily, ready to take her place. Lily raised a hand to stop her.

  “It’s fine,” she said. “It’s just a medicine cabinet.”

  Lily leaned her body away from the wall to look at me from behind the side of the medicine cabinet and I saw something in her eyes—perhaps a little glimmer of delight. It was an inscrutable look, whatever it was.

  “So you’re ready?” I asked again.

  “I’m ready,” Lily said, her pitch-perfect girly voice layered with sweetness.

  I counted to three and we pulled together. The medicine cabinet came off the wall along with a few bits of plaster as the fasteners loosened as well.

  Something dropped from behind the cabinet—the necklace! Only it had fallen into the sink, and the drain had been left wide open. The necklace spun around in a wide circle, following the contours of the sink on its way to the open drain. My eyes went wide as panic set in. I wanted to reach for it, but I was holding on to a pretty heavy medicine cabinet at the time, so I fought the urge.

  Lily wasn’t as concerned. She let go of her end and made a desperate grab for the necklace, grasping it a millisecond before it vanished down the drain. Off balance, the medicine cabinet tumbled from my hands and smashed onto the tile floor with a thunderous crash. Bits of shattered mirror spread out in all directions like shrapnel from a bomb. Anna gasped as she covered her ears. I yelled, too, and not something I should have shouted at the woman pregnant with my future child.

  The medicine cabinet lay on its side. Our toiletries had all spilled out: toothpaste, prescription pills (thankfully not my Adderall), dental floss, makeup (not mine), lotion (okay, mine), Afrin (mine as well), Q-tips, a razor, and my night guard (my dentist claims I grind my teeth when I sleep). It was a smorgasbord of our personal stuff, not that Lily took any notice. Instead, she held up the necklace with a proud and satisfied look. The chain swayed back and forth in her hand, like something a hypnotist might use, with the heart-shaped pendant containing the tiny family portrait still attached.

  “I got it!” Lily said, her voice triumphant.

  I looked down at the floor and Lily’s eyes followed mine. Only then did she seem to take notice of the resulting devastation. She gave me a sheepish look and turned to give Anna the same.

  “Oh, my God, I am so sorry, guys,” she said, laughing with embarrassment. Lily leaned over and handed me the necklace. “Well, at least it didn’t go down the drain.”

  “Gage,” Anna said, entering the bathroom. “I think you owe Lily an apology.”

  “I’ll clean this up,” Lily said. “I’m so super-sorry for the mess.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Anna said, setting both hands on Lily’s slender shoulders.

  “No really, I insist. It’s my bad. I let go of my side.”

  How convenient, I thought. Not the medicine cabinet, but how convenient that it was Lily who found the missing necklace. I felt like a total fool and couldn’t help but wonder if that was the intention.

  “Look, I’m sorry, Lily,” I said, clutching the necklace in my hand. “I’m sorry that I accused you. I was wrong.”

  “No need to apologize,” Lily said, brushing me aside, but in a way that did not seem at all genuine. Her eyes demanded a lot more than an apology from me. She looked as though she had just tasted a few drops of my blood and hungered for more. She wasn’t at all done with me. “I understand you were upset, and I seriously insist on cleaning all this up. I’ll even pay for a new one.”

  “Nonsense,” Anna said. “We’ll clean it up together, and you don’t owe us a thing.”

  Anna and Lily embraced, sweetly and with much tenderness. It was then I began to realize just what was happening. Something else was at work here, something I was just beginning to see and comprehend. An alliance was forming between Lily and Anna, and it was clear that I was the odd man out.

  CHAPTER 18

  When I arrived at work the morning after the necklace incident, I wasn’t thinking about the big milestone demo we had scheduled for the afternoon. I was thinking about Anna and Lily and how they were laughing and giggling like schoolgirls as they cleaned up the bathroom mess.

  Anna asked me to get us something for dinner. Her request had a subtext: leave her alone with Lily to complete the cleanup and repair the emotional damage. I could feel Lily wedging herself between Anna and me. What I couldn’t figure out was why.

  Grumbling under my breath, I left to get the Chinese food. When I returned, the bathroom was cleaned up and Lily was gone. Anna and I didn’t speak about the incident again, not even the next morning. I was left to wonder if I had overreacted, misread Lily once again. I battled self-doubt all morning, and might have completely forgotten about the demo if Lee Chang hadn’t stopped by my office.

  By the time Lee and I arrived
at the demo lab, it seemed that everyone in R&D had already gathered for the showcase event of the season. The demo lab was a huge uncluttered room with white linoleum flooring cleaner than any hospital ward. It was here we featured all of Olympian’s real-world applications. Mannequins were spaced throughout, many of them holding cell phones, some wearing portable music players. We even had the front half of an automobile in one corner of the room to demonstrate how our next-generation hybrid car battery would look inside the engine of an actual car. There were computers, cameras, and all sorts of gizmos and gadgets representing the full spectrum of products our batteries one day would power.

  That day, we were going to turn on a cell phone powered by what we all believed to be Olympian’s first prototype battery stable enough to present to our CEO. Olympian had been years in the making, and Patrice liked to make a big celebratory deal of our progress along the way. Then again, she also liked to make a big celebratory deal of her twins’ birthdays, so it must have been in her DNA. She’d ordered a couple cases of beer and bottles of soda, brought in pizza from Sal’s, and had her assistant decorate the demo lab with streamers and balloons. I had to admit, the balloons and streamers made me feel kind of special.

  Even though this demo was mostly pomp and circumstance, tension was in the air. Adam Wang, our program manager, looked especially nervous. I might have certified the battery, but it was still Adam’s project to succeed or fail. We were waiting for Patrice to show, making small talk, discussing the next phase in our endeavors, sipping beers but not really drinking them. I went over to Adam to offer my assurances.

  “Relax,” I said. “All Patrice is going to do is power on the phone, we’ll start the countdown, finish a beer, eat a slice, and then get back to work.”

  Adam looked hopefully at the mannequin holding the cell phone powered by the Olympian battery in one hand and the digital timer in the other. The timer would start as soon as Patrice powered on the phone and would stop when the battery ran out of juice. Our calculations predicted the battery would hold more than three times the energy of our competitor’s longest-lasting battery. The subsequent recharge test would complete in less than ten minutes.

  My confidence did not reassure Adam. He still came across terribly anxious.

  “Why does Matt look so smug?” Adam asked.

  I glanced at Matt Simons. He was talking with a group of scientists, his posse, the ones he’d turned against Adam. They believed Adam was leading Olympian down the wrong path. I could understand why Adam was on edge. It was no fun being Matt Simons’s target. Still, I had tested and retested and believed that everything would work perfectly.

  “Just ignore Matt,” I said. “He’s all bluster and bravado, but the proof is in our product. We’ll be fine.”

  As if on cue, Patrice Skinner entered the lab. We greeted her with polite cheers and clapping. Patrice marched to the center of the room and we formed a circle around her and Amber, our mannequin.

  “Greetings and salutations,” Patrice said, her face broadening into a cheery smile. “I can’t tell you how happy I am to be here today. I spoke with Peter a little while ago, and he’s planning to stop by the lab tomorrow to see the battery in action.”

  Peter George was our fearless CEO. We expected that he would come to the demo lab, see Amber the Mannequin holding the cell phone, take note of how much time had ticked on the timer, and praise how long the battery was lasting. For a battery manufacturer, that constituted serious action.

  While Patrice was talking, showering us with accolades, I noticed Adam was paying no attention, focusing instead on Matt. Indeed, Matt did look smug, as though all Adam’s dire predictions about Olympian were about to come true. As Patrice’s speech went on, Matt might as well have been licking his chops like a cartoon coyote and Adam the plump sheep of his desires.

  “So let us all toast,” Patrice said, “to the future success of our Olympian battery!”

  We raised our beers (or sodas, or glasses of water) in unison. Patrice went over to Amber and turned on the phone, and the timer began ticking off the seconds and milliseconds of battery power used. Adam looked relieved. Matt, however, didn’t look any less smug. Patrice came over to my side.

  “Thanks again for everything, Gage,” she said. “I know these past few years have been very difficult for you, but your leadership has played a huge role in getting us to this point.”

  “It’s been the hardest time of my life,” I said, surprised at how quickly I felt heaviness build up in my chest. “But I’m glad to be here with you today.”

  “I just want you to know how much we appreciate your commitment.”

  “Thanks,” I said. “It’s been a blessing for me to have my work. I don’t know—”

  My words got cut short by a sudden and startled shout. “It’s on fire!” somebody yelled.

  Bright orange flames flashed from within a plume of thick black smoke that billowed up from Amber’s hand. The overpowering stench of burning plastic overtook the lab. Each poisoned breath battered my lungs. I heard people start to cough and gag, and saw Patrice doing the same as she covered her eyes to keep out the sting of smoke. Everything was happening fast. People were shouting, rushing for the door, confused, unsure of what to do.

  I heard a loud swoosh as a white spray began to overpower the dark smoke. Thick smoke still clung to the air, but it was no longer fanning out across the ceiling.

  Matt stood at poor Amber’s side, clutching the fire extinguisher he had used to put out the blaze. Amber’s hand had melted along with the phone used for our demo. Powerful fans kicked in, working on overdrive to suck out the sickening air. Fire alarms were blaring—a deafening sound coupled with bright, flashing strobes. Patrice gave me a look that shattered my heart. She was crestfallen, visibly dismayed. I could read her eyes: How could a build I sanctioned catch fire minutes after the phone powered on? Didn’t I test this?

  Matt wasn’t looking at me, but I was looking at him. The commotion and chaos continued all around us, but he didn’t seem affected by it in the least. Rather, he looked like a guy who knew he’d need a fire extinguisher before the first puff of smoke ever appeared.

  CHAPTER 19

  Anna and I had one of those dinners where the forks and the knives made the loudest sound in the room. A heavy silence weighted us down, the kind that spoke volumes. I knew Anna was still upset with me when she didn’t so much as break a smile after I waltzed in carrying a brand-new medicine cabinet from Home Depot. It was a lot nicer than the one we had before, but still not nice enough to break the ice.

  I started to talk about work, hoping that would lighten the mood. I told Anna all about Matt Simons and my suspicion that he intentionally caused the fire.

  “I think he did it to get Adam fired, but of course that makes me look bad, too, because now the quality of the product is suspect,” I said, finishing the story even though Anna wasn’t really listening. I was grateful for any conversation, even if it was just my own voice talking. “I think he sabotaged the build, if you ask me,” I continued, taking a bite of the garlic-flavored tilapia Anna had cooked for dinner.

  She didn’t ask any questions, but I went on. “We’ve got a very complex configuration management system in place,” I said. “So I think Matt did something to that system that substituted an older build of the product, not the one I approved. Of course, now Adam is a total wreck. He thinks they’re going to fire him. Heck, they might fire me, too.”

  That got Anna’s attention.

  “Why would they do that?” Anna asked, showing interest in the crazy events of the day for the first time.

  “It’s a quality issue,” I said between bites. “I’m the guy who gave this battery the seal of approval.”

  “But you said yourself that Matt Simons might have sabotaged the project to get Adam fired.”

  I smiled while stabbing a nicely oiled chunk of butternut squash with my fork.

  “So you were listening.”

  Anna’s hard
edge softened a bit.

  “Honey, of course I was listening. Just because I’m pissed at you doesn’t mean I’ve stopped caring.”

  “Understood.”

  Anna shook her head. “No, I’m not certain you do. So tell me, is your job really in jeopardy?”

  “Hard to say,” I said. “It’s not good either way. The CEO was expecting to see a demo of Olympian, and what we gave him instead was a one-alarm fire. I told Patrice we should reverse engineer the battery that malfunctioned and see if it matches the build I approved for the demo. If it doesn’t, then I’d say my job is safe.”

  “For now,” Anna said, “but this Matt Simons character isn’t going away. Sounds to me like you need to be very careful. Trust me, Gage, people can be ruthless when it comes to getting ahead. I should know. Managing personalities is a big part of my consulting business.”

  “Well, if I do end up losing my job, at least we’ve got yours to fall back on.”

  Anna said nothing, while breaking the eye contact we’d finally achieved. Her only response was to take another bite of fish.

  “What?” I asked. “Did I say something wrong?”

  “No, nothing,” Anna said, but in a way that said yes, something.

  “Okay,” I said. “Let’s pull. Active listening. Seriously, what is wrong, honey? I love you, I care about you, and I want to know what’s bothering you. Are you still mad about what happened with Lily last night?”

  “Yes,” Anna said, flatly. “But that’s not why I’m being quiet.”

  Truth be told, I wasn’t in the greatest mood myself. The double whammy of the necklace incident followed by the exploding battery was taxing enough. Add my suspicions about Lily, and I deserved to be downright ornery.

  “Why don’t you tell me why you’ve gone silent?” I said, making eye contact, feeling genuine, remembering what I’d learned from our therapist, Dr. Small.

  “I want to stop working when the baby comes,” Anna said. “Maybe for a year.”

  “And you’re worried I’m going to lose my job,” I said, following her train of thought, or so I believed.