Mourning Dove (3 page)

“Hope you’re right. I’d
like to see that,” Louise said.

“I’d like to tour more of
the complex if you have the time.”

“I’m technically on my
lunch break, so why don’t I take you upstairs to the cafeteria and the fitness
club?”

“Sounds like a wonderful
idea.” One flight up they entered a brightly lit hall filled with an aroma
reminding Sara that she skipped breakfast.

“Lunch is on us,” Louise
said as they walked through the line.

Sitting at a table by the
window in the crowded cafeteria Sara picked apart a fresh salad. “Louise, do
you have family close by?”

“My husband and I are
newlyweds, well almost newlyweds. We married just after I started here at Starr
Shine.”

She took a bite of her
chicken wrap, wiped a spot of mayo off her lip, and asked, “What about you?  Do
you have family close by?  Do you have kids?”

Sara walked herself into
this one. How could she answer this and still look like the professional she
was trying to project? “My husband and I are separated. Our son, Carl, died
this past March. He was twenty-five.”

“Oh I’m sorry. I...shouldn’t
have pried.”

“I asked you about your
family to try to get to know you. It’s only fair you ask in return. It’s still
difficult to talk about, both my son’s death and my separation.” Sara could
feel the blush fill her face.

“Would you like to
continue the tour?  I have fifteen minutes before I need to get back to work.”

“Sure, where to next?”

“Well, the library is on
this floor. It’s like a swap meet for books. We also use the cafeteria for
large group meetings. Muffins and donuts with fresh coffee, tea and juice are
available from seven thirty in the morning. The cafeteria closes at six, so if
you’re working late and don’t want to eat out, make sure you get up here before
then.

“Above us is the fitness
club. It includes a pool, workout room, two racquetball courts and two locker
rooms complete with saunas, showers, and a whirlpool. The Club actually takes
up the eighth and ninth floors. On top of that is the roof with a helipad and a
jogging track around the outer perimeter.”

“I’m impressed.”

“The company policy is
based on a healthy employee is a happy employee; a happy employee is a
productive employee and less likely to go looking for another job.”

“Well, that’s usually
true. But sometimes it’s the drudge of the commute that turns employees off.
This place is close to the turnpike. I’m sure that was factored into the plan
to build here.” With the elevator door opening, they stepped out to the glass
fronted entrance of the fitness club.  Louise opened the door and smiled at a
gray-haired man dressed in black slacks and a maroon t-shirt with the company
logo on the left side of his chest. He appeared to be pushing sixty.

“Hi Joe, this is Sara
Stafford.  She’s interviewing for a position in our accounting department.”

“Sara, Joe Stein is the
manager up here. When employees want to schedule a time to work out, or want a
locker, or a towel, they come to Joe.”

“I’m pleased to meet you,
Joe. Do all employees have this benefit?”

“Everybody who works
here, including me,” he said with a smile. “We’re in our busiest time of the
day. A lot of employees use the center during their lunch break. Just be
careful where you walk. Some places are wet; I wouldn’t want you to slip.”

“Thank you, we’ll be
careful. What are your hours of operation here?”

“The club is open from
six a.m. to eleven p.m. I’m on duty from ten to seven, with an hour break
whenever I want it. The rest of the time everyone is on the honor system.
Security locks up at night and unlocks the doors in the morning.”

After a stroll through
the facility Sara said, “My goodness, Louise. This is quite an employee
benefit. Do you know the percentage of employees who take advantage of it?”

“About sixty percent
actively use the facility.  Another twelve percent have lockers up here, but
are not active users of the equipment.”

“How do you keep track of
the usage?”

“We all have ID badges.
They’re used as keys to activate any of the equipment, and the lockers. Joe has
a report of who’s assigned which lockers and knows who comes and goes through
the doors while he’s on duty.”

“This place is
fascinating. Do you have any more time to spare?”

“I’ll show you the
training center and the HR department; then I have to get back.”

***

Later in the parking lot,
Sara’s knees were shaking.  “I want this job!” Out on Mall Road, She glanced in
the rear view mirror and there was a black SUV behind her.  Either there are a
lot of them with black tinted windows or the same guy was following her for the
second time today. Yesterday she saw two of them. “Stop looking for trouble,
Sara.”

By three forty, she’d
checked the real estate offerings in the area, found a bank, and picked up a
cheesecake and bottle of wine. She was really looking forward to relaxing with
Cass. It’d been a long time since they spent time together. A glance in the
rearview mirror and she saw another SUV parked in a handicap spot with its
engine running. This was getting just too weird. That buzzard better not follow
her down the turnpike.

***

“Ding dong, dessert lady
calling,” Sara called out to Cass when she walked through her door.

“Hey you! Come in. Let me
look at you.” Cass pulled her into the house like she’d hauled her into their
dorm room to share a juicy piece of gossip about the campus hunks a lifetime
ago.

“I'm nothing to look at,
Cass, just a worn out woman. The wine’s still cold; let’s tap it now.”

With her flowing Indian
caftan and leather sandals, bangle bracelets and matching hoop earrings, earth
mother to all, Cass reached out to her with the comforting hug of a true
friend.

“God, it’s been a long
time since anyone hugged me and meant it.”

“Well then, I’ll hug you
again just so you won’t forget where the hugs are unconditional.”

With that bit of
sincerity, Sara’s day finally overflowed.

“Hey, it’s okay sweetie.
I didn’t mean to start the waterworks. But, if that’s what you need to do,
there’s no safer place than here. Come and sit while I open the wine.”

Wiping tears with one hand
Sara dug into her purse for a tissue. Cass’s silky black cat, as wide as he was
long, rubbed up against her legs. “Hey, Merlin,” Sara reached down and
scratched him behind the ears, “How’s life treating you, old fella?”

“He’s fat and lazy and
king of the house and he knows it.”

“Aw, give him a break,
Cass; he’s an old man in cat years.”

“He’s a grumpy old man.
Any time I try to change things around in here he tears up my effort.”

“It smells wonderful in
here. It’s not pot again, is it?”

“I haven’t played with
that in a very long time. It’s a new potpourri I mixed myself. I think it makes
the house smell all mystical and mellow.”

“I have visions of a
psychedelic house, walls swaying in and out of focus. How was your day at
school? Or was it the direct opposite of the peace and serenity I feel here?”

“The life of an art
teacher on the go between two schools makes for a very busy week. Fridays are
my half-day at each school. It can be frantic with little hands covered in
chalk or charcoal or finger paint. Trying to keep them focused on the project
at hand and not the free-for-all paint fight they would rather be having is
enough to fray a saint’s wings. It’s always good to come home to peace and
quiet.”

“That’s what I’ve missed
the last six months, Cass, a good home with peace and quiet, a place of
serenity.”

“Speaking of which,
quick, take a sip of wine before I drag you next door to see the house I told
you about. I want you to see it before we lose daylight. It would be perfect
for you.”

Cass dragged her through
the front door and over the lawn to a light gray ranch style house with gray blue
shutters. A dormer framed the windows on the left, a one car garage on the
right, and a cozy recessed porch tucked into the middle of the front façade. A
for sale sign was stuck in the middle of the lawn. “Tell me about the people
who used to live here. You said the owner moved to Florida. What happened to
his wife?”

“She died last year from
breast cancer. He swears he’s not going to put up with another Maine winter. He wants to sell quickly. It just went on the market three days ago and
already there’s been a flurry of curiosity about the place. I’ve had a key to
it since his wife became ill.  Kevin’s in Florida looking for a condo near a
golf course. It won’t take long to sell.”

“Decent sized lawn, neat
and uncluttered except for that small maple out front. How big is the back?”

“Let’s walk around so you
can see. It has a little more lawn than mine but that’s because of the angle of
the road behind us.”

Around the far side, a
three-foot high hedge separated the property from the neighbor on the left.
“That hedge is a forsythia, isn’t it? I bet it blooms a gorgeous yellow in the
spring.”

“Leave it to you, Sara,
to think common forsythia is gorgeous. Almost everyone else in this
neighborhood has been ripping them out.”

“Who lives in this dark
green doublewide on the other side?”

“Oscar and Ruth
Obermeyer, they’re an elderly Jewish couple from Israel. His health is shaky at
best, walks with a cane when he does get out. They’ve only been here a month,
good people though.”

They climbed a set of
four steps to the front porch of the little house for sale. “I can envision a
glider or couple of rockers here, with a potted mum and a spray of Indian corn
beside the front door.”

“See, you’re already
getting into the swing of it. Inside, the main living area is an open concept.
It’s in move-in condition. Kevin had the carpets shampooed after he moved his
furniture out.”

Fifteen minutes later,
they were walking back to Cass’s place. “What can I say? I like it!  It feels
like home; or will as soon as I add some furniture. It’s also not big and
fussy. I don’t want that; I want simple and complete.”

“Ron never finished the
house, did he?”

“When I left we were
still using five-gallon spackling buckets for end tables in the living room.”

“Come on, dinner should
be ready to come out of the oven.”

Sara could hear her cell
phone chiming when they reach Cass’s living room.

“Marilyn Margeson,
calling for Sara Stafford.”

“You’ve got me.  What’s
the word, Marilyn?”

“You’ve got a final
interview with the president of Starr Shine Communications on Monday at
four-thirty. With this company, you don’t get this far without a job offer in
the plan. Congratulations!”

“Thank you; you made my
day.” Sara disconnected the call with a smile on her face.

Cass walked in from the
kitchen, “Dinner will be another fifteen minutes; got to let it cool a bit. I
take it that was good news on the phone?”

“It’s awesome news. But I
still don’t know if they’re sending me to Chicago or not. Or maybe even San Francisco. Now I’m undecided about the house.”

“What’s this about Chicago or San Francisco?”

“Well, there are two
positions open according to Jonathon Pierce. He’s the CFO of Starr Shine. One
is the corporate comptroller spot here in Portland. Then, there’s a staff
accountant spot in Chicago. I believe I’m overqualified for that job and I told
him that in my interview this morning. Apparently, they hire all top positions
from corporate headquarters here in Portland. So, three of us are being
considered for two positions. Marilyn from the employment agency just told me
we all have final interviews on Monday.

“I don’t know Cass.
Something doesn’t feel right. The CFO asked hardly more than a handful of
questions in my interview. How could I get to the final interview stage this
quickly?”

“Sara, don’t quibble
about a quick hire. What is this thing about San Francisco?”

“Well, the outgoing
comptroller is being moved to the San Francisco office. I don’t think he’s
happy about it. There was an incident while I was there for the interview. I
think they just told him about this relocation to the west coast. I was lead to
believe it was a lateral move when I asked about the person I’d be replacing.
But when one of the staff accountants gave me a tour of the building, I was
able to glean that all divisional comptrollers report to the corporate
comptroller. It’s not a lateral move; it’s a step down for him.”

“Wow, maybe he quit.
Maybe they want to fill all three spots now.”

“That’s what I’m afraid
of. I wonder if I should wait to call the real estate agent about the house.”

“You know, Sara, if you
wait and you’re slated for the Portland spot, you may lose out on the house.”

“Yeah, I know. I do like
the house, its location next to you and close to the turnpike.”

“Maybe you can make an
offer contingent on landing the job in Portland.”

“You’ve got a good idea
there. I suppose these contingencies happen all the time. What’s the phone
number for the seller’s real estate office?”

“Now you’re talking.  Her
name is Kimberly Jones; her card is over there beside my phone. Why don’t you
give her a call while I set the table?  Do you want some more wine?”

“Half a glass.”

Fifteen minutes later
Sara walked into Cass’s kitchen, “Well, the ball is rolling. Let’s toast to old
friends and new beginnings.” They clinked wine glasses together over Cass’s
dining table. It was covered with the orange, blue, and green woven cloth Sara
sent her from her trip to Guatemala. “Very pretty table setting, Cass. I can’t
believe you still have this,” Sara smiled and reached down to touch the fringed
edge, memories from an innocent youth.