Destined

by Patricia Haley

  The surge of unbridled satisfaction was fleeting as Joel listened to the attorney. Kumar relayed the terms of Zarah’s inheritance. To Joel’s chagrin, funds were locked with a modest two million dollars available immediately and an additional million each year until year five, when the entire estate transferred to Zarah. The only exception was divorce. If her husband left her, she’d immediately assume ownership of the entire estate. Joel didn’t plan to wait out the five years for her inheritance. That was her money, her legacy. The only thing she had that he desperately wanted was his division back.

  “What about the West Coast division of DMI?”

  “Sole ownership has been transferred to Zarah.” Joel was relieved until he heard the stipulation. “As Musar promised, she can sell it to you if you have no children and choose to divorce after three years. But she can sell it to anyone else at any time before the three years expires.”

  “What, are you saying that someone could buy my division before I get the chance to buy it back?”

  “Yes, she can sell it to someone now, but not to her husband.”

  “Why?” Joel asked, unwilling to accept this strike of betrayal from Musar.

  “Musar wanted to make sure Zarah’s husband did not leave her alone. He wanted her to be secure in the marriage,” the attorney said.

  Joel couldn’t figure out if he’d angered the God of his father or the gods of Zarah’s father. There was no way to keep DMI afloat for five years with the drop in revenue and mounting bills. Now that he’d have control of the entire company, he’d secure a credit line with Harmonious Energy as collateral. It would help, but taking on more debt wouldn’t be the saving grace. Uncle Frank’s comment about Joel borrowing more money resonated with him. There was no way he’d let that happen, if for no other reason than to not give Uncle Frank the pleasure of gawking. Joel wrung his hands, unable to tell the attorney and Zarah how he really felt. He had to get away and think. They’d take a flight back to Detroit today if possible, but definitely no later than tomorrow. His problems weren’t less in Detroit, but at least he was on familiar soil.

  His disposition was accommodating on the outside and outraged on the inside. Nothing had gone right in a year. He’d get close to a victory, real miracles, and then, bam, the deal would fall through, or the money wouldn’t come, or death sat on its behind long enough to cause problems, instead of swooping in and taking over Musar like it had with his father. If Joel believed in being cursed, that would explain the happenings surrounding him. He opted not to go that far. Despite the circumstances, he preferred to believe that the power to change his future rested in him. He had to find a way out of the quagmire. Then he remembered the silver of good news. At least the West Coast was in his hands again, maybe not quite his hands, but Zarah’s was close enough. He made a mental note to spend more time with her, or at least try.

  chapter

  64

  Joel had been consistently unpredictable in recent months. Abigail couldn’t guess what the emergency was today. She’d have to wait and find out like everyone else, no longer having the inside track with Joel. She suppressed her concern, wanting DMI to survive. The original vision, which was to train the religious leaders so they could be empowered to help the people, was sound. They couldn’t be going out of business; today couldn’t be that day. There wasn’t time to get a debriefing. Abigail braced for the news and entered the boardroom already filled with Joel, Don, Madeline, and the other six board members. Sherry entered behind Abigail—surprised that they were both summoned. Abigail’s concern grew. Joel either had fabulous news or really bad news, nothing in the middle would warrant a DMI gathering of this elite magnitude, one comprised of members from the executive team and the board of directors.

  “Can we take our seats, please? I want to get started on time,” Joel said, talking over the pockets of conversation and then taking a seat.

  Abigail sat next to Don. Madeline sat next to him on the other side. “Do you know what this is about?” Abigail asked him.

  “No idea, but we’ll soon find out.”

  “I guess we will.” Abigail waited for Madeline to comment since Sherry wasn’t a board member or a key executive. About a minute had passed while people took their seats and Madeline said nothing.

  “The matters discussed in this meeting are proprietary, which is why I have Sherry Mitchell, my personal assistant, here, who has also doubled as my press secretary for several years. She will take notes and craft a press release afterward.” Madeline fidgeted in her seat. Don’s elbow rested on the arm of his chair. “Everyone here knows that we’re in the middle of tight times with the U.S. divisions.”

  “You got that right,” Madeline said.

  Joel continued. “The great news is that our international client base is strong, thanks to the merger with Harmonious Energy. I’m confident that the U.S. business will recover. Our strategy is strong and our leadership team is top notch. We can and will turn this around.”

  “How?” Madeline asked.

  “The climb back to our place on top of the leaderboard will be frustrating at times and may require tremendous sacrifices, but no matter what happens in the process, we have to remember the end goal,” Joel said.

  “Joel, we don’t need a pep talk. What we need is for you to tell us why you’ve summoned us to an emergency meeting in the middle of the day when we’re busy trying to keep the doors open. You tell me that,” Madeline said.

  “Fine, let’s get to the heart of this discussion.”

  “Now we’re getting somewhere,” Madeline said. Abigail didn’t know if Madeline would ever like Joel, by the sound of her curt attitude.

  “You’re aware of the West Coast division’s transfer of ownership from DMI to Harmonious Energy.” The shock continued to resonate with Abigail. Not letting that happen was Dave’s number one request. She couldn’t imagine how Madeline felt. “I can proudly inform you that we have the West Coast division back in the DMI family.”

  “DMI owns all four divisions again?” Don asked.

  “Not exactly.”

  “Here we go,” Madeline said, pushing the seat away from the table and crossing her legs. “What have you done now?”

  “Ownership of the West Coast transferred to my wife’s trust once her father died late last week.”

  “Does it belong to you or to her?” Don asked.

  Joel let his gaze fall. “It belongs to her technically, but she is my wife.”

  “That’s all well and good, but the bottom line is that your wife’s name is listed as the sole owner. That’s what you’re tap dancing around and trying not to say. Let’s just call it like it is. You don’t own the West Coast division, unless this meeting is the grand announcement that your wife is signing it over to you.”

  “Look here, team, the bottom line is that we have the West Coast under our umbrella again and under my control, regardless of whose actual name is on the statement of ownership.”

  “I’m amazed at how uninformed you think we are,” Madeline told him. Abigail sat stunned but chose to listen to his explanation, then render her opinion. “A binding legal document declares the owner,” Madeline said, drawing close to the table, fixing the palm of her hands on the edge and piercing her gaze into Joel. “That’s the bottom line, and not what you want to believe in that concocted world of yours. This is a joke. I’m out of here.”

  “There’s one more announcement.”

  Madeline walked toward the door. “What’s left to give away? My division,” she said, cackling.

  “No, the Southern division.”

  Madeline stopped in midstep. A momentary hush fell over the room before babble dashed in and took over. Joel struggled to regain control.

  “Is the Southern division gone?” Abigail asked, afraid to hear the answer.

  “Yes, but—” was the most Joel could eke out before he was bombarded with questions, stares, and innuendos from more than Madeline.

  “What happened?” Don asked w
ith a bite in his tone—after all, a part of his DNA came from Madeline.

  “I made an executive decision to save this company.”

  “You made a decision, without the decency of coming to the board or the executive team again. Who do you think you are?” Madeline said, holding each word a complete second. By then she’d come up to the table, still standing, and squeezed in between two of the other members.

  “We needed operating capital. Madeline, you said yourself in last week’s meeting that we had to keep the lights on, and we will.”

  She laughed openly. “Are you trying to tell us that you had to pay the electric bill so you hocked the Southern division? That’s too funny,” she said, letting the laughter come to an abrupt halt, “and too ridiculous for you to sit there wasting our time with this garbage. You owe us the decency of coming clean, stepping down, and letting us figure out what to do first. For once in your little life, do the right thing. Stop thinking only about yourself.” Madeline’s words were too controlled for comfort, Abigail thought.

  “Wait a minute,” Sherry chimed in. Madeline shot her a piercing stare that said Don’t even attempt to rescue him unless you’re willing to drown, too.

  “Look, I don’t have time to get into the full details but suffice to say that we forfeited the Southern division in an effort to save the rest of DMI,” Joel said. “When a person has an infected limb, it’s better to cut it off and save the body than to keep everything intact and die as a result.”

  “I’m not in a medical class. This is a board meeting. I can’t believe you sold a division. You don’t have the authority to sell it. We want it back!” Madeline belted. Joel ignored her. “Did you hear me? We want it back. Who did you sell it to anyway and for how much?”

  “A private investor bought it.”

  “They won’t be private much longer once the press release is issued,” Abigail said. The man sitting at the helm wasn’t Joel Mitchell, not the man she’d once loved and respected. This had to be an impostor, and not a very good one. Joel couldn’t be serious. He was nothing like his father. Staring at him, she couldn’t help but feel that he was a waste of talent and favor. Don had to rescue the company now or forever live with the rapidly approaching demise. Sadness gripped her. Joel was lost to her. Hopefully he wasn’t completely lost to God but the indicators didn’t look good.

  chapter

  65

  Don and Abigail followed Madeline into her office, with silence leading the way. Don was the last inside and closed the door behind him. The three gathered around the small meeting table off to the side and took seats.

  “Just when I didn’t think Joel could sink us any further, he announces this craziness,” Madeline said with her hands flailing in the air.

  “I simply can’t put my head around what Joel is doing. He’s wiser than this. I’ve worked side by side with him,” Abigail said.

  “You wouldn’t know it,” Madeline commented.

  Don wasn’t out of sorts. He prayed silently as Abigail and his mother vented. Panicking wasn’t going to help resolve the deep trouble DMI and his family were experiencing. He remained calm so the wisdom could flow freely, unblocked by outrage and judgment. His mother and Abigail had different approaches. Abigail was gentler, too accommodating. Madeline was the opposite, direct and lacking grace.

  “We have finally come to the end. There is nothing else we can do,” his mother said.

  “I don’t believe God would let DMI fail. I just don’t believe it,” Abigail said, turning her head from side to side.

  “You’re talking to the wrong person to say that. I wouldn’t have believed that my marriage would fail, or that I would fail as a parent, but here I am.”

  Abigail gave a slight nod of affirmation.

  “We can’t blame God,” Don said. “He gives us free will. My father, and Joel, and me, and you—we’re all given an opportunity to do the right thing. God didn’t make Dad leave you. That was his choice,” Don told his mother as she looked away. “God didn’t tell Joel to recklessly mismanage this company. Both Dad and Joel were set up for success under the leading of the Lord. They chose to step out of that grace and do their own thing, and the consequences are what they are.”

  “Don’t tell me that everyone who suffers brings it on themselves.”

  “Of course not, some do and some don’t.” Don gained conviction with each word, resting in the revelation he’d learned through personal experience. “I believe some challenges are meant to develop our character and perseverance. Others are purely consequences.”

  “What’s the difference? Suffering is suffering,” Madeline said.

  “One is for your personal growth and the other one not so much. The only way you can tell the difference is how much peace you feel in the midst of the challenge,” Don told her.

  Madeline returned her gaze to the circle and spoke slowly. “Maybe you’re right.”

  “I know I’m right. We want to take credit for the good and blame God for the bad—doesn’t work that way.”

  “Okay, okay, Reverend Don, I get the point,” his mother said with opened palms extended toward him and then quickly retracted. The softening disposition iced with a slight grin was the confirmation he sought. She understood.

  “So, what are we going to do?” Abigail asked. “I’ve been praying and praying and praying, hoping God will intervene.”

  “There is hope,” Don said.

  “Really, where?”

  “I’ve been thinking, maybe I can make a power play and try to buy the Southern division under LTI. With the operating capital struggling at DMI, Joel should be strapped for cash,” Don said.

  “Which means he can’t keep it,” Madeline added.

  “That’s a great idea,” Abigail said. “But Joel said it was a private investor.”

  “We’d have to do some digging, but we can do that, gladly,” his mother said, getting excited.

  “If we can buy the Southern region back, that leaves the West Coast out there. That also leaves Joel in charge. I have to ask, what do we do about getting Joel out of the CEO position?” Abigail asked.

  “With our pitiful legal team, we can’t count on them to run a gnat out of here, let alone a sanctioned CEO. They’re totally worthless. We have to do this on our own, although I can’t imagine how.”

  Don knew the time was right. He didn’t know how the pieces would come together, but there was an opportunity they had to explore. He took another few seconds to be sure and to formulate the words. Ready, set, go. “There is a long shot that has its own challenges.”

  “Tell us.”

  “There is the option of taking ownership of Tamara’s stock.”

  He watched his mother’s excitement evaporate. Hurting her was the last thing he wanted to do. She had suffered her share of pain, but destiny and calling were forces too strong for him to ignore. Even when he wanted to shy away from God’s leading, the pull was too intense to withdraw.

  “I’m not leaving this company or this city. That’s not going to happen.”

  “What are you talking about?” Abigail asked.

  “Tamara has agreed to come back if I leave DMI and Detroit.”

  “Why?”

  “I have no idea. I’ve done everything in my power to protect my children and this is my reward,” she said, driven to tears. “If I understood why she won’t let me back into her life, then, perhaps I could move forward.”

  Don remembered his mother crying many nights when he was a child. As the years passed and her heart hardened, he hadn’t seen her cry much, except when it came to her children. His mother was good. He understood Tamara’s need for distance. Don continued praying. There had to be a reason for the calamity. Good had to prevail, otherwise the torment and agony of separation and loss would win and that wasn’t God’s way. Don’s faith was firm, and so would be his boldness.

  “Do you think I should go?” she asked Don, pushing back the sobs by clearing her throat.

  “Exc
use me, I’m going to leave and let the two of you talk,” Abigail said.

  “I’ll catch up with you later,” Don told her and thanked her, too. His soul was crying out to comfort Madeline. “Mother, I can’t tell you what to do. You have to decide. I can tell you that I’ve been at my own crossroads,” he said leaning forward and resting his elbows on his thighs. “When I went to South Africa I was mad and bitter. I was really running away, or at least that’s what I thought, but God met me there. He allowed me to step away from the tension and to get a better perspective. The distance from Detroit saved my life, physically and spiritually,” he said, sitting up.

  “Are you suggesting that I go on a pilgrimage and find myself, when I’m not lost?”

  “I’m telling you what I had to do to get free from the burden of this place.” She didn’t respond. He took her hand. “Mother, you’ve taken care of your children. You’ve been the best mother I could ask for.” She pulled her hand away. “No, I mean it, you have. Not many women could have endured what you did, and you’re tough as nails as a result.”

  “Not everybody sees that as a positive.”

  “I do. You’re tough, but you’re also human. You’ve never taken the time to grieve the divorce, or Dad’s death, or to properly deal with Andre raping Tamara, or Sam killing him in retaliation and then committing suicide.”

  “Yes, I have!” she shouted.

  “No, you haven’t. Instead, you pressed the trauma deep inside and lashed out at those nearby. You’ve barricaded yourself inside your pain and nothing except me and maybe Tamara are allowed an entry pass into your heart. Not even God Almighty gets in.”

  His mother stared at their hands and held her response. There wasn’t tension in the room. No anger. No bitterness. For that sweet moment, there was raw vulnerability from his mother, a response he’d never seen from her. He let the moment penetrate.