Up and Down (9 page)

“And Amanda, I’m not a big fan of freelancing such a big presentation the way you and David did back there. I really didn’t appreciate being shut down like that in front of the potential client.”

“Come on, Crawford.” Diane leapt in to defend her team. “Amanda did exactly what you would have done. If we still have any chance of winning this account, it’s because of Amanda and David.”

“I’m so sorry, Crawford, I panicked. I didn’t mean to cut you off. I was just trying to save the business and I suddenly remembered I had David’s slides on my computer,” Amanda explained, looking as if her career were flashing before her eyes.

Crawford paused and dropped into a chair at the table. When he spoke, it was no longer tinged with anger.

“You didn’t look panicked to me. You took charge. You reminded me of me, even though it was at my expense. I’ll get over it, eventually,” he joked. “And if we score the account, I’ll get over it even faster.”

Diane and Crawford then launched into a separate conversation, speaking in code about
TK
operational matters. So I turned to Amanda, who still seemed wired from the pitch. It was the first time I’d been able to speak to her since we’d walked out of the
NASA
meeting.

“Great save when Kelly was about to gas us,” I said. “We were cooked, and you saved us. And your hand-off was so smooth, I didn’t even know that I had the ball for the first minute or two.”

“I know. You had this look on your face that did not inspire confidence, initially,” she replied. “But then I could see the penny dropped and you were off. David, I have to admit, you did a great job presenting your idea. You nearly convinced even me this time. I still think it’s a long shot but you did really, really well for your first pitch.”

She smiled at me. A real smile.

“Thanks. I’m just glad you remembered you had the slides. We’d have been sunk without them.”

The boardroom door swung open and Xena the Warrior Princess, aka the
TK
receptionist from the lobby, stepped in.

“Crawford, there’s a Kelly Bradstreet on line two for you.”

We all raised our eyebrows in unison. Crawford Blake reached
for the phone as my stomach tightened. It was frustrating only hearing Crawford’s side of the conversation.

“Hello, Kelly, it’s Crawford Blake. Long time, no see.…

“Thank you. And I apologize for my abbreviated outburst. We’ve all been so excited about the
NASA
pitch so it was tough to hear your initial reaction before we took you through our big idea.…

“Yes. Yes. And yes, Diane does have amazing taste in glasses.” Diane beamed.

“Uh-huh. Yes. You did? You are? Well that’s just fantastic news. We didn’t think we’d hear until at least next week.…

“Yes, you’re right, time is tight. Of course we can start right away.”

The phone still to his ear, Crawford gave us the thumbs-up and I experienced my first new business high. It was a surprising feeling of pure elation. Amanda made me do the fist bump. I missed her fist the first time but came around a second time and made contact. Crawford waved his hand to silence us.

“I thought it was all over when the ex-astronaut was so, um, colourfully critical of the idea.…

“I see. Well that’s good to hear.…

“Yes. I understand. It’s completely your call, and that will be fine with us,” Crawford said, looking at me. “Yes, he’s based in Toronto.…

“Okay, that’s just great. We’ll watch for the paperwork and get together next week to kick it off. We’ll also hammer out a more detailed plan. Thank you for this news, Kelly. We’re all in orbit
around here – pun intended. And we’ll do everything we can to justify your faith in us.…

“We are, too. Oh, and again, sorry about my reaction in the room today. I was a little hot because I knew what was still to come and that you would just love it. Turns out I was right.…

“No problem. You were well within your rights. Okay, well, we’ll get started. Bye for now and thanks again.”

He calmly replaced the phone in the cradle and held his hand there for just a second or two before leaping to his feet and pumping his fist so hard I feared he might dislocate his shoulder. Then he whooped a few times and did a brief but disturbing victory dance that was a little bit bump and grind and far too much Curly from The Three Stooges. It was actually quite frightening, but it really didn’t matter.

“Okay, folks, we can ditch the Project Crimson code name and tell the world that we’re
NASA
’
S
agency. We won,” he said, still catching his breath.

“Here’s the deal. Despite grandpa astronaut’s reservations, we won it on the Citizen Astronaut contest idea. The only catch is that there’ll be a condition in the
NASA
contract that young David here plays a senior role on the account team,” he said turning to me. “You impressed them. Congratulations.”

Amanda looked befuddled for just an instant, but then recovered.

“Okay, but I’m still running the Canadian program, right?”

“You’re looking fried and frazzled, Lauren.”

Oops. I was sitting across the kitchen table from my sister. She supported her forehead with the palm of her right hand and twirled a spoon in her tea with her left. She was not pleased.

“Thanks, jackass. That makes me feel so much better,” she said. “You’d look like crap too if you were up every half-hour through the night dealing with whatever Mom’s got going on at that precise moment. It could be pain, hallucinations, a congested chest, missing meds, or my favourite, a bedpan malfunction. Sometimes she calls and then doesn’t know why when I get there.”

Shit. I am such a tool sometimes. Okay, often.

“Lauren, I’m so sorry, I meant it, you know, sympathetically. Honest, I did. I can’t imagine what you’re going through, but now that I’m here, I can find out. Let me stay here for a few days and you take a break at my place,” I offered again. “I’m here to share this. That’s why I came back.”

Lauren paused and then made eye contact for the first time since I’d arrived a few minutes earlier.

“David, you’ve been working 24-7 ever since
NASA
landed. We’ve barely seen you,” she replied. “Look. I know you’re serious and you mean well, but it just makes more sense for me to do this. You’ve got a big-time job now and I’m only part-time in a sleepy library branch. Besides, I don’t really think Mom would be that comfortable with you positioning her bedpan or changing her Depends. Her dignity is already in short supply these days.”

Ouch. That hurt. There was silence but for the clink of stirring spoon against teacup. I waited, knowing it was coming. There it was, the sound of guilt screeching to a halt and parking on my chest with a jaunty “Okay, I’m here. What did I miss?”

“I’m sorry I’ve been a bit out of touch the last month. This
NASA
project is huge and demanding. I’ve never worked so hard in my life, and it’s weighing pretty heavily on my rounded shoulders. We’re all working from the crack of dawn till 10 at night, every day. When we launch the contest next week things should slow down … somewhat.”

Lauren didn’t even look up, but kept stirring.

“So, is she feeling any better at all?” I asked.

She almost gave herself whiplash snapping her head up to stare at me, incredulous.

“David, wake up! You know what she’s got, and how far down the road she is. Right now she’s only ever feeling pain and how
slowly time passes. There is no ‘feeling better’ any more. And there won’t be.”

And there it was. It hit me so fast, so hard. I’d always managed to keep it at bay, but not any more. It was right there on top of me. I suddenly felt twice my own weight, as if I’d landed on Jupiter, and the lump lodged in my throat felt positively planetary. I squeezed my eyes shut as hard as I could to keep my face dry, and breathed deeply through my mouth. I felt Lauren’s hand slide into mine. Even though I’d moved back to Toronto weeks ago, she could see that I’d finally arrived.

Before I left, I tried again to visit with Mom but she was oscillating between light sleep and medicated stupor. Neither state lent itself to conversation. So I just sat on the bed for an hour and tried to remember what she used to look like.

Of course, Lauren was right. I’d been
AWOL
on the home front since returning from Washington four weeks ago. I’d only managed a couple of visits and even then I’d been preoccupied. I’d tried to explain the inner workings of the contest to my mother, if only to make sure I had it straight, but she nodded off in the middle. And it may not have had anything to do with her disease or treatment. I pledged to carve out more time for my mother and sister. I just didn’t know where it was going to come from.

It had been an exhausting month or so since winning the account. Amanda and I, along with a great team of young and
dedicated
PR
pros from whom I was learning a great deal, worked nearly around the clock to get ready for the launch news conference. I was more focused on bringing the contest to life, while Amanda and Diane worked on finalizing the actual plan, budget, and contract. The Canadian plan document was beautiful when finally printed and bound. It was quite different from the U.S. plan, largely because our country is quite different from the U.S. Beyond the disparity in populations, there was a raft of state jurisdictional anomalies that dictated a more complex approach south of the 49th parallel. While the Canadian plan covered more ground geographically, it was simpler to implement, and I was relieved about that.

What had taken the most time was hammering out the contest rules and regs. With
NASA
’
S
blessing, we signed a non-disclosure agreement and then a partnership contract with National Lottery Corporation (
NLC
) to help us develop and run the contest in Canada.
NLC
was satisfied with the global accounting firm
TK
had contracted to oversee the contest mechanics in both countries. In fact, they had already worked on several national contests with Emily Hatch, a big wheel from the Toronto office of Borden-Bennett. Emily would ensure that the Canadian rules and regs were honoured to the very edge of every serif on every letter of the law. The word “stickler” seemed to have been created in honour of Emily.

After I had briefed the Canadian Space Agency (
CSA
) very, very unofficially,
NASA
had approached them officially with the contest
idea.
NASA
was thrilled that the
CSA
jumped on board so quickly. I was not surprised in the least. Why wouldn’t
CSA
be there? The contest would give the agency national, continental, and even global exposure which could lead to more funding from the feds in the same way that
NASA
was gunning for more dollars from Congress. It was a win-win, and I knew
CSA
would see it that way. They signed on fast. In the negotiations,
NASA
hemmed and hawed and finally agreed to assign a Canadian astronaut to the mission as a kind of escort for the Canadian contest winner. We’d pushed for this and it made sense for us, strategically. The
CSA
’
S
polling showed that public interest in space peaked when a Canadian astronaut was flying. I learned later that putting a Canadian astronaut on the mission was hardly a major concession. As it turned out, Martine Juneau, a very impressive Canadian mission specialist, had already been scheduled for the flight anyway. How magnanimous of
NASA
.

The phone in my cubicle emitted its funny sound and I saw “
NASA
” pop up on the little screen on my phone.

“David Stewart.”

“David, it’s Kelly Bradstreet.”

Uh-oh. What had I done? I was still a little nervous dealing directly with the client. Amanda and Diane had handled most of the
NASA
liaison, so I was a little concerned to hear from Kelly directly.

“Um, hi Kelly,” I stammered. “Um, it looks like we’re right on track here. All systems are go for the launch next week … to, er, coin a phrase.”

“Relax, David, I’m not calling with a problem. You guys are doing a great job. Smooth sailing so far. I wish your
D.C.
office was doing as well. They’re still a few steps behind trying to pull it all together,” she said, taking me off the hook. “I’ve learned through several discussions with Diane that this whole contest idea really came from your brain. Based on your presentation during the pitch, I’d suspected but wasn’t sure.”

“Well, it’s a team effort.”

“Yeah, yeah. I know you cooked this up and I just wanted to say thanks for such a great creative idea.
NASA
has never been known for their out-of-the-box
PR
savvy and I really wanted to change that. Your idea may just start to turn the ship around. So, well done.”

“Thanks, Kelly. Here’s hoping it all goes according to plan.”

“Well, if it doesn’t, at least I know who to ream out,” she said.