by Davis Bunn
“Probably so.”
“Will you come with me?”
Chris saw the fear and the dread on Frank’s creased features. It pained him to see the man’s customary cheerfulness overwhelmed by events. “Yes, Frank. Of course I’ll come.”
They decided to take Chris’s car, so first Chris followed Frank back to their street. He tried to reach Amanda on the drive home, but he was put straight through to her voice mail. And the news about his promotion was not something he would leave in a message. Scarcely had he pulled into the drive when his assistant phoned with the news that Campaeo’s lawyers urgently needed to speak with him. Chris had the impression she already knew about his promotion, and that repressing her excitement was like trapping steam in an overheated kettle. But he didn’t say anything, so she didn’t either.
She patched the attorney through, and when Chris identified himself, Evan Crouch said, “I specifically asked to speak with the company president.”
“That’s me.”
“But Kent Avery’s secretary insisted upon—” There was a pause. “Excuse me?”
Frank opened the passenger door, saw Chris was on the phone, and hesitated. Chris waved him in and said to the phone, “I was appointed this morning.”
The man took his time responding. “You’re the president of Avery Electronics?”
“I am.”
“Then congratulations are in order,” he said sourly.
“What can I do for you?”
“We need to meet.”
“I can tell you everything you need to hear right now and save us the time,” Chris replied. “Our offer stands as it is.”
But the lawyer was insistent. “You owe it to your company to hear what we have to say.”
Chris reluctantly agreed, then called Kent Avery to report the conversation. In truth, he was hoping for a reason not to go.
“Follow your best instincts,” Avery replied easily. His boss already sounded like a different man. “If there’s anything to be gained from them, you’ll find a way.”
Chris cut the connection and turned to his friend. “Something’s come up.”
Frank tried for resolute and failed. “I can handle this on my own.”
“No, I just need to swing by these lawyers in Orlando before we head to the church.” As they started across the causeway bridge, Chris explained what was happening.
Frank heard him out and said simply, “Kent Avery chose the right man for the job.”
“I might be the briefest company president in Florida’s history.”
“You might. But that’s less important than being certain everything possible is being done to save the company.”
“Frank, you’re a good man and a better cheerleader. But you don’t know a thing about my company or me as an executive.”
“I know how you are seen by the men in that morning group. I see how they look up to you. How they trust you. With their lives.” Frank nodded slowly. “And those people you’ve been feeding from the Word, they will share their confidence with everyone else.”
Which was why, when they arrived at the glittering Orlando building that housed the lawyers, Chris was smiling.
Frank declined his offer to wait in the coffee shop on the office building’s ground floor, so Chris left the older man seated in the car and headed for the elevators. To his surprise, he felt none of the tension he had carried with him on his last visit. Even when the lawyers kept him waiting twenty minutes, he found himself content to sit and reflect upon the day. He felt as though something kept the world at a safe distance. Even now, surrounded as he was by the prospect of his company going under, and being forced to wait until a group of high-priced attorneys offered him a false lifeline, he felt protected.
He was struck then by the conviction that Frank was downstairs praying for him. That was why the old guy had wanted to wait there in the underground garage. So he could offer Chris this incredible gift.
The sense of being sheltered was so strong Chris could sit there across from the receptionist’s desk and respond with prayers of his own. He did not close his eyes. He had no desire to draw attention to his deed. He prayed for Frank and the coming meeting. He prayed for Amanda and the prayers she had placed in the Wailing Wall for them both. He prayed for their marriage and their future. And he prayed for his company.
A gradual realization welled up inside him. Chris did not so much stop praying as turn the process around. He no longer spoke. He listened in prayer. He saw how his determination to separate his family life from his business problems was only partly driven by a desire to protect Amanda. In truth, he did so because it suited him. He wanted to be the strong one. The man who was in control of his job and his destiny. And the hardest part of this entire episode was learning that he was not in control. There was almost nothing about the situation that was entirely his to manage. And yet, throughout it all, he had been so very reluctant to release his clenched grip and allow God to take over. He wanted to fix things. It was his nature. Only now, as he sat in the reception area and waited for the lawyers to call him in, did he see how important it was to let go. Not merely of this meeting. But of his desire to segment and control.
As Chris felt his internal barriers crumble, he realized that this was the true definition of wisdom. To see his earthly situation through God’s eternal gaze.
Chris found his comforting shield remained in place even when the lawyers launched into their pitch. He continued to view the process from two entirely different perspectives. On the one hand, he listened as they listed the benefits that would come to Avery Electronics through working with their Brazilian clients. He heard how any sensible executive would be willing to bend on the few points that separated him and his company from a huge new deal. And on another hand he saw that his former bitterness was based largely on the baggage he himself had carried into this project. Ever since the run-up to the previous Christmas, when that first prospective client had gone bust and Amanda had lost her baby, he had entered into every possible deal like he faced a pitched battle. Not allowing himself to see how the tension had eaten at him, or the burdens had weighed him down.
The senior lawyer clearly saw he was not getting through. “I’m sorry, Mr. Vance, are you even hearing what I’m saying?”
“Every word.”
“Because I keep expecting you to respond with more than a smile. This is an incredible offer we’re making.”
“Is it? Let me put it to you as plainly as I know how. The deal with Campaeo Aviation could be a lifesaver. But only if it is real.”
“I can assure you, sir, that this proposal is absolutely—”
“Just hear me out. From where I’m sitting, real includes a price that will grant us the chance to make a small but reasonable profit. Real also includes getting paid on time.” Chris pointed at the deal memo he had brought along the last time. “We have cut our cost structure to the bone and priced accordingly. That won’t change. And neither will the terms. A real deal is one where we are paid for what we deliver. When we deliver.”
“But surely you understand that there has to be give and take—”
Chris rose to his feet. “Gentlemen, this is my first day in a new job. To be perfectly honest, I wish I could be spending it somewhere else. Where there is a chance of a real deal, one that will offer my company real hope. Good-bye.”
He strode from the conference room and passed through their offices. He did not wait for the elevator. He took the stairs. They were concrete and unadorned. His footsteps echoed through the chamber as he crossed the underground garage to his car. When he slipped behind the wheel, he asked, “Were you praying for me?”
“It was the least I could do after all you’ve done to help me and Emily,” Frank replied. “How did it go?”
“Better than I could ever have hoped.” Chris started the car. “I needed to draw a line in the sand. For my company and our future. And I didn’t know it until I was upstairs.”
“Well, all righ
t, then.”
Chris looked at the man seated beside him. He saw the nerves and the tension. He saw how Frank carried a similar bundle of past problems and worries and pain. “You ready?” he said. “Let’s go see Lucy.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
When they pulled into the church parking lot, Frank emerged from the car like a stiff old man. Chris watched him limp across the parking area, totally ignoring the young people playing basketball. He knew Frank’s attitude had nothing to do with the place or the young people, and everything to do with the woman who waited inside.
Chris had phoned twice, first before leaving Melbourne Beach and then again when they left the downtown garage in Orlando. Jackie was there to greet them. She kissed Chris on the cheek, then turned and said, “And you must be Frank. I’m Jackie, Lucy’s supervisor.”
“Nice to meet you.” Frank’s voice was almost robotic. “Where’s Lucy?”
“Hiding in the youth center. As nervous as I imagine you are.” Jackie ushered them back into her office. “I volunteered to serve as a sort of go-between. I hope that’s okay.”
Frank loosened enough to reply, “Chris told me a little of what’s happened since Lucy showed up. I appreciate everything you’ve done for my daughter.”
“She’s a wonderful person, and a real boon to our efforts around here.”
“I got to tell you, that’s not something I ever expected to hear, especially in a church.”
“I understand.”
Frank eased himself down into a straight-back chair. Chris leaned against the back wall, wanting to give the two of them some room. Frank said, “I don’t even know what to expect.”
“Or why you’re here, I imagine.” Jackie’s own chair creaked loudly as she leaned back. “At the risk of repeating what Chris may have already told you, let me give you some background. Lucy first came through our rehab program three years ago. At the time we asked her if there were any relatives we needed to alert. She gave us your names. You were up in Ohio then, if I remember correctly?”
“Outside Dayton,” Frank confirmed.
“Right. Lucy said she didn’t want you notified unless there was an emergency. She said she had put you through enough. She also said she’d promised to straighten herself out and failed too often to count.”
Frank huffed softly, but did not speak.
“I have to tell you, I liked her from the start. We get a lot of liars in this place, a lot of people who are good at telling others only what they want to hear. Lucy was different. She had hit rock bottom and she didn’t like what she’d found there. She graduated from the center’s program and got a job at a local fast- food place. She attended AA meetings every night. She joined our church. She joined our Bible study. She went to night school. And she started volunteering with the kids you saw on your way in. She has a real gift, by the way. She can reach kids that I would have long since given up on. They trust her in ways that would just . . . well, they trust her. And she loves them. She gives it to them hard and straight, but with a sense of uncompromising love. We watched her for over a year, then we designed a position for her. She’s been full-time on our staff for almost two years.”
Frank covered his eyes.
“She met her husband through us, I’m sorry to say. He was a charmer. Won us all over. But something about the pressure of becoming a father just pushed him over the edge. None of us saw it coming. When he took off, we were worried we’d lose Lucy as well, but she’s held to the straight and narrow.” Jackie raised her hands. “That’s as clear as I know how to make it. Your daughter has given her life to Jesus, and he has given her a reason to live. Sure, she could fail again. We all could. Lucy is giving it her best. I’m proud of her. When she told me she was thinking about contacting you folks, I told her it was time.”
Jackie waited. There was a considered patience to her, as though she had been in this position before. She did not move, she did not press. When Frank finally regained control, she said, “Ready to go see your little girl?”
Chris watched through the glass partition as Jackie brought father and daughter together, then slipped into the study room with her. Together they watched Frank and Lucy through the window.
“How’s Amanda?” Jackie asked.
“She sounds great. Tired. They’re trying to cram all of Israel into a week and a half.”
“Un-huh. Her first trip, right?”
“Yes.” Chris watched Lucy scoot her chair around the desk so she could sit with her father and not have the desk between them. Frank’s features looked rigid, but he made no move to draw away from her. Chris asked, “Are you all right with them getting together?”
Jackie glanced at him briefly, then went back to watching. “Are you kidding? I live for this.”
Frank said something that caused Lucy to reach over and take his hand. He jerked at her touch but did not pull away. He kept shooting his daughter tight little sideways glances. Like he was afraid.
“So we’re not observing them because you’re worried.”
“No, I’m not worried.”
Lucy started talking then. Frank’s face gradually began to relax.
Chris asked, “Then what are we doing here?”
“There just aren’t enough happy endings in this work. We deal with impossible situations. We pray for miracles. Sometimes they happen.”
“And you think this is one of those times.”
“I don’t think. I know.”
In the other room Lucy continued talking. Chris watched the tension gradually ease from Frank’s frame. He was studying his daughter full on now.
Chris found the silence comforting. He needed a bit of distance himself, from the day and all that was going on. He found that his mind did not return to the surprise announcement, however. Instead it swept across the sea to Amanda and the incredible change he was hearing in her voice. Somehow it all felt tied together. The trip the women were on, and the trip he and Frank had taken. Two completely different journeys, yet somehow they transcended distance and time and were bound together by something far greater than he could ever hope to understand.
Jackie said quietly, “Moments like this are why I do what I do. Watching a kid who has every reason to hate open the Bible, then listening to him talk about love and forgiveness. Standing beside addicts as they graduate from rehab, and hearing them thank God for bringing them to us. Having a day when we get a homeless family out of their car and show their kids a room with a real door and a real bed where they can sleep from now on.”
Chris was watching her now. “It sounds to me like you’ve got a world filled with miracles.”
“Not enough.” As Frank and Lucy rose from their chairs and embraced, she reached over and took his hand, all without glancing away from the sight, without even blinking. “Not ever enough.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The journey home started in silence. Chris had no problem with not talking. The day resonated with a palpable force, and he needed time to digest not the events but the realizations. As they waited for the last light before entering the expressway, he tried phoning Amanda once more. When it went straight to her voice mail, he simply told her everything was fine and asked her to call.
“You and Amanda headed anywhere for Christmas this year?” Frank asked.
“We were supposed to. But we’ll probably stay put. How about you and Emily?”
“The kids and their families joined us last year. This Christmas they’ll be with in-laws. We didn’t plan it this way, but it works out for the best, since I’ll be able to recover from the surgery in peace. You have family up in Virginia, right?”
“A lot.” Chris merged into the highway flow. “To be honest, I don’t know if we’ll ever go back. Not after last year.”
Chris found himself talking easily about growing up as the youngest of five children, the closeness they felt for one another, the pain of dealing with their beloved mother’s Alzheimer’s and subsequent death. And the quarrel with his sister C
laire.
He spoke for the first time of their arrival at his sister’s home on Christmas Eve. He had not said a word about it before then to anyone. He had in fact done his best to forget the events had ever happened.
Up to the day of their arrival at Claire’s home, Amanda had been briskly handling the loss of the baby. She had insisted upon going back to work. She wasn’t sleeping, neither of them were. But other than that and a new sternness she showed to the world, she seemed to be getting on with life. Until Christmas Eve when she had walked into Claire’s home.
The house was filled with family and noise and laughter. Children of all ages were everywhere, playing board games in front of the fire, fighting over controls to the television and the Xbox, inspecting the wrapped presents, reading a book in the corner, helping in the kitchen. The lights on the tree and framing the living room entryway had cast Amanda’s features in a sickly pallor. Then suddenly she had started wailing. Great, heaving sobs that sent her crashing to the floor. Several of the children started crying with real fear.
Chris picked his wife up and carried her to the bedroom. When her weeping continued without pause, Claire’s dentist husband had finally given her a sedative. Even with that she had needed over an hour to calm down. In the middle of the night, she woke up and declared they had to leave while everyone still slept. Chris recounted that awful drive, eleven hours seated beside a woman whose face had been transformed by raw pain. He had never felt so helpless in his life. Amanda had spent a week moving around their home like a zombie, not leaving, not even going out into the backyard.
“I remember,” Frank said.
“Really?” Chris demanded. “How?”
“Emily wept when she saw her get out of the car that day. Not for Amanda. Remembering.” Frank shook his head. “Why did you even take her to Virginia?”
“Claire really wanted us to come, and Amanda thought it would do her good.”
Frank was quiet for a couple of miles. “Maybe it did.”
