It Had to Be You and All Our Tomorrows

by Irene Hannon

  When she stepped through the door, a solid, big-boned, middle-aged woman smiled at her from behind a reception desk. “You must be Caroline. Come right in, honey. David had to take a call, but he’ll be with you in a minute. Can I get you some coffee?” Her husky voice had a pleasing, rough-around-the-edges quality.

  “Yes, thanks. That would be great.”

  “Cream or sugar?”

  “Black is fine. But I can get it.” Caroline took note of the coffeemaker off to one side as she dropped her shoulder bag on a chair.

  Ignoring her, the woman came out from behind the desk and headed toward the small cabinet. “You just sit. Take the load off. Not that you have much load to take off.” A chuckle rumbled deep in the woman’s chest as she filled the cup. Then she turned back toward Caroline with a smile that showcased the dazzling white teeth in her dusky face. “Here you go, honey. Nothing like a good cup of coffee late in the afternoon to give you a second wind. I’m Ella, by the way. After Ella Fitzgerald. My mother was a great fan of hers. Hoped I’d be blessed with a voice like she had, too. No such luck, though. I could never carry a tune in a bucket.”

  With a smile, Caroline took her proffered hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Ella.”

  “I’ll let David know you’re here.”

  “Thanks.”

  While Caroline waited, she surveyed the small reception room. Though the surroundings were pleasant and clean, they were pretty bare-bones. Ella’s desk was an older-style metal unit, and the wall behind her was lined with two utilitarian file cabinets. The small grouping of furniture in the waiting room was an eclectic mix of pieces that made Caroline wonder if they might be donations from a variety of sources. There were a few homey touches, though, including a plaque that said, “Bloom where you are planted,” and some photos of students receiving awards, plus a table next to the window laden with a variety of flourishing plants.

  “Someone has a green thumb,” Caroline commented when Ella returned. “Or should I say green hand?”

  “David says that I’m turning the office into a greenhouse,” Ella told her with another chuckle. “But I like to watch things grow. Plants—or people. Those were all half-dead castoffs when I inherited them. But they just needed a little attention. TLC goes a long way.”

  Before Caroline could respond, the door behind Ella opened and David motioned her in. “Sorry for the delay. I see Ella took care of you.” He nodded to the coffee cup in her hands.

  “Yes. It was just what I needed.”

  “She has a knack for that.” David sent the receptionist an affectionate look.

  “Now that one’s a flatterer,” Ella warned Caroline, though it was clear she was pleased by David’s compliment. “And I could tell you some other things about him, too.”

  “Uh-oh. I don’t like the sound of that. Come on in, Caroline, before Ella says something I’ll live to regret.”

  Caroline smiled and moved past David into his office. As she took a seat at the small table he indicated in the corner, she again noted the bare-bones nature of the Uplink offices. David’s U-shaped desk module and the conference table were wood-grained Formica, while the filing cabinets were gray metal. It was obvious that very little of the money intended for the Uplink program was funneled to administrative expenses. A few personal touches warmed up the room, including some family photos that she surveyed with interest, and an exotic-looking woven wall hanging.

  The contrast between David’s present work environment and the plush offices he must have enjoyed in his old job struck Caroline. Michael had said he brokered multimillion-dollar mergers and acquisitions, rubbing elbows with the movers and shakers in business. What had made him give all that up?

  “I’m new at this interviewing game. What can I tell you about Uplink that Tess hasn’t already covered?” David asked, interrupting her musings.

  Uplink. That’s why she was here, Caroline reminded herself, refocusing her attention. From Tess’s notes, she knew the other woman had most of the background information she needed. And Caroline had jotted down a great deal of information during the presentation that could be used to flesh out the story. A few quotes from the executive director would round out the article.

  “I don’t need much,” she told him. “Tess has done a thorough job already. And the meeting today was very helpful. Just tell me a little bit about your role.”

  David complied, explaining the fundraising, recruiting and administrative duties of the job. But he focused on the recruiting aspect, which he considered to be vital.

  “We want to attract the students who can benefit the most from our program,” he explained. “For the first few years, my predecessor devoted his time to getting the program established. Now that it is, we’re taking a more aggressive approach to recruiting, doing outreach and presentations in schools where there is a high incidence of students who drop out, or where truancy is a problem. The mission of the organization is to reach out to those most in need of intervention, and since I took over on the first of the year, we’ve moved more and more in that direction.”

  “Tell me a little about your background, David. This seems like quite a switch from your previous job.”

  “It’s night and day,” he acknowledged, then proceeded to confirm what Michael had told her about his high-stakes business career.

  “What prompted you to make such a radical change?”

  “A friend of mine is on the Uplink board. He told me several months ago that the position would be opening up, and asked if I’d be interested. I don’t think he expected me to say yes, but I surprised him. And myself, I might add. I’d been doing a lot of soul-searching about where I wanted to be five years down the road, and I’d come to the conclusion that I needed more to show for my life than a list of mergers and acquisitions I’d helped broker. I wanted to be able to say that my life stood for something more lasting, more important, than dollars and deals. I took to heart something Mother Teresa once said—‘God has not called me to be successful, God has called me to be faithful.’ And after a lot of prayer and discernment, God led me here.”

  “This isn’t a faith-based organization, though, is it?”

  “No. But helping young people get their lives together is one way of doing God’s work.”

  Caroline was again struck by the quiet, deep faith that seemed to guide David’s life. Since she hadn’t had a chance to probe about it when they’d met, she took advantage of the opportunity. Closing her notebook, she laid it aside. “Can I ask you a question, off the record?”

  A flicker of surprise—followed by caution—registered on his face. “Sure.”

  “Michael told me once that you weren’t raised in a home where faith was discussed very much. And his faith was marginal, at best. How did you find your way to God?”

  A smile touched the corners of David’s mouth. “To be honest, I didn’t. He found me.”

  Curious, Caroline studied him. “If this gets too personal, just tell me to back off, but I’d be interested to hear more about that.”

  “May I ask why?”

  It was a fair question. If she was making personal queries, he had a right to do the same. “I guess I’m intrigued by faith. Maybe even drawn to it. I was raised in a household where faith was important, but over time I just drifted away. When we met that Christmas, there was something about the way you talked about your faith that caught my attention. I’d have liked to talk more to you about it then, but there just wasn’t time. Then Michael died, and I didn’t think about God for a long time. But in the past few months my interest has started to grow again. To be honest, I’m not sure why.”

  “I don’t think that’s an uncommon experience. My initial forays were pretty tentative, too, and I didn’t understand the reason. I just felt the need to connect with something bigger, some higher power. And when I did, three or four years ago,
my life started to change. Not always in ways that were comfortable, though. This job is a good example. I’m sure Michael told you that we grew up in a lower-income, blue-collar family. Money was always tight. Too tight. I decided that when I grew up I would find a career that gave me financial security. But once I had that, I realized it wasn’t enough. That’s when I started to listen to the Lord’s voice. To put my trust in Him, and to follow the path He was leading me to.”

  “So one day you just woke up and decided to give up the life you’d created and take this job?”

  “It wasn’t quite that simple.” He leaned back in his chair, and his face grew thoughtful. “I struggled with it for a long time. But my options were limited before Mom died.”

  Caroline wanted to ask why, but he continued before she had a chance to voice the question.

  “After she was gone, I talked to my friend on the Uplink board, who’s a minister. I also forced myself to get out of my rut, out of my usual environment, away from the familiar, hoping that a change of scene would give me some new insights. One year, I took a trip down the Amazon. The next, a trek in the Himalayas. That’s a souvenir from the second trip.” He indicated the woven wall-hanging Caroline had noticed earlier.

  Taken aback, Caroline stared at him, trying to reconcile this David with the picture Michael had painted of his cautious, introverted brother, whose idea of an “adventure” vacation—according to Michael—was spending four days camping on the shores of Lake Michigan.

  He flashed her a brief grin. “I surprised myself, too. As Michael obviously told you, risk-taking isn’t in my nature, and those trips were a stretch for me. But they did help me think about things in a different way. Get a new outlook. Other than those adventures, though, I’ve led a pretty boring life.”

  Caroline’s eyes grew flat, like landscape thrown in shadow by a dark cloud. “Boring isn’t so bad.”

  Her sudden bleak expression didn’t get past David, and he recalled her comment at the Chronicle, that she’d seen enough blood, sweat and tears to last a lifetime. “It can be if it traps you in a life that keeps you from growing in your faith or as a person.”

  “Maybe.” She didn’t sound convinced.

  “Anyway, after a lot of thought, a lot of prayer and a lot of conversations with my friend, I found my way back to God. And that’s how I ended up here.”

  “Any regrets?”

  “Not a one. At least not about the job, and about turning my life over to God.” Then his face grew pensive. “But there are other things I would do differently if I had a second chance.”

  Caroline wondered if he was thinking about his decision to institutionalize his mother. Or about his estrangement from Michael. But she’d asked enough questions today. If she delved any deeper, he could very well turn the tables on her and ask about her regrets. And that wasn’t something she wanted to discuss.

  Reaching for her tote, Caroline stuffed her notebook inside and slung it over her shoulder, then rose. “Well, thank you for your time today. We’re planning to run the article in next week’s edition.”

  Standing, David reached over to grip her hand with his strong, firm fingers. “Thanks for the coverage.”

  “Like I said when you called, we’re always looking for a good story.”

  When he continued to hold her hand, she searched his eyes. They were a soft, quiet brown, as still and deep as a spring tucked into the shadowed crevices of a woodland grotto. She had the oddest impression that he was looking right into her heart, touching her pain, seeing the secrets and doubts she’d kept long buried.

  Feeling off balance, she pulled her hand free and turned to go. “We’ll send you some extra copies.”

  “I’d appreciate that.”

  He opened his office door, and when she stepped through Ella gave her a smile.

  “Well, that didn’t take long. Did you get everything you need, honey?”

  “Yes. Thanks.”

  “I figured David would take care of you.”

  As Caroline exited the office and made her way back to her car, the receptionist’s words echoed in her mind. She knew the woman’s comment had been in reference to the story. But for some reason, Caroline sensed that it was true on a deeper level. That if she gave him the chance, David would take care of her in far more personal ways as well.

  She had no idea where that absurd intuition had come from. She and David had nothing in common beyond a link to Michael. They didn’t even know each other very well. She must be losing it.

  There was a time when Caroline had relied on her instincts, when she’d trusted them. But if today’s experience was any indication, she’d better be a little more cautious about putting her faith in them in the future.

  Because this one had been way off base.

  Chapter Four

  Jared Poole.

  The name stared back at David from the Uplink application. So his presentation had reached the gifted photographer. The student who, according to his principal, was trying to break his gang ties. The student who had a truancy problem. The student whose stark black-and-white images on the high school wall had reflected great talent and hope—though the latter was perhaps unconscious, much as Michael had been unaware of his underlying theme of humanity until his mentor had pointed it out.

  Jared Poole was exactly the kind of student David was trying to reach with Uplink. But he suspected Jared was also exactly the kind of student the board would classify as high-risk.

  As David perused the application, several things became clear. Jared wasn’t the strongest student. His grades were marginal, at best. Yet a letter from his art teacher praised his creativity and visual gifts. And as David read the essay required by the application, he had to concur with the English teacher, whose enclosed assessment commended the boy’s writing talent.

  What he couldn’t gauge from the application was Jared’s determination and commitment. Much as he wanted to reach out to students like Jared, he understood—and respected—the board’s wishes not to take unnecessary risks with the program at this early stage. Jared could be a great success story—or he could spell disaster. And from the pieces of paper in his hand, David couldn’t tell which was more probable.

  Pulling his school directory toward him, he scanned his list of principals for Charles Elliot’s number, then tapped it in.

  “David! Good to hear from you. I was just wondering this morning if any of our students had applied to Uplink.”

  “As a matter of fact, that’s why I’m calling. I’m just starting to sift through the applications from all of the high schools, and one of the first ones I came across is from Jared Poole.”

  A couple of beats of silence ticked by before Charles spoke. “I have to say I’m surprised.”

  “I am, too, based on our last conversation. He doesn’t fit the profile of our typical applicant. At least up until now. In any case, I wanted to take you up on your offer to give me an evaluation of students from your school who applied. How high of a risk do you think he’d be?”

  Again, a few beats of silence. “If pressed, I’d have to say fifty-fifty. At best. I wish I could be more positive, but he’s got a very spotty record. It’s not that he doesn’t have the ability to perform. When he wants to, he can apply himself. He just doesn’t seem to want to most of the time.”

  David knew that the board members would have apoplexy if he told them he was even toying with the idea of considering such a high-risk student. “His art and English teachers included pretty strong letters of recommendation.”

  “Like I said, he can do great work when he’s inclined to. Art and English are his two best subjects—as I’m sure you realized, if you checked the transcript required by the application.”

  “Yes. I saw that.”

  “I’d hate to be the one who derails his chances, though. W
ith the right support and motivation, he could surprise us all.”

  Leaning back in his office chair, David looked out his window. The first buds of spring were just starting to come out on the flowering trees that lined the street, waiting for the warmth of the sun to coax them into blossom. Given the right conditions, and some TLC, almost any living thing could thrive. Ella’s table of salvaged plants, which had withered and almost died in the hands of a variety of owners, had flourished under her care and attention. People reacted the same way. If he didn’t believe that, he wouldn’t have taken the job at Uplink.

  With sudden decision, he turned back to his desk and pulled Jared’s application toward him. “I think I’ll talk to him,” he told Charles.

  “Good idea. You can tell a lot more in person than you can from a piece of paper.”

  As David hung up the phone, his face grew thoughtful. From his years of negotiating high-stakes deals, where he’d had to rely on his instincts and his ability to do a quick and accurate assessment of the players, he should have the skills to make this determination.

  Then again, he hadn’t had many dealings with troubled teenagers. Maybe his skills wouldn’t hold up with someone like Jared.

  But in his heart, he knew he had to try.

  * * *

  At the knock on his door, David looked up.

  “Jared Poole is here.” On the threshold, Ella rolled her eyes and nodded behind her.

  Over her shoulder, David could see a tall, lanky teen slouched against the far wall of the reception area. When Jared looked his way, the defiance in his eyes was unmistakable. Yet David sensed the boy’s nervousness beneath the cover of that brash look. Though his posture appeared relaxed, indifferent even, there was an almost palpable tension about him that told David he cared about this interview. And the fact that he’d not only shown up, but was right on time, was also a good sign.