Another Angel of Love Page 14

  When her hair was set, she walked over to the window and stared outside. The sun was sinking and off at the edge the window Jenny could just make out the star of the east. She felt the warmth of Henry’s love surround her. Softly she murmured:

  Angel of God, my guardian dear,

  to whom His love commits me here;

  ever this day be at my side

  —and Henry’s…and Mom and Daddy’s—

  to light and guard, to rule and guide.

  And…James too.

  Amen.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Whew!” Elaine exclaimed, sliding the last folder into its proper place. The filing always took longer than anticipated and now that it was done, she looked forward to getting back to the novel she’d started the other day. Filing complete and Mr. Sarsky away at a two-day conference, there’d be nothing coming her way for the next few hours.

  Elaine strongly identified with the heroine of the story she was reading—a thirty-two-year-old woman who takes over her father’s company, much to the chagrin of company insiders— and could hardly wait to finish. Elaine felt her own talents and abilities far exceeded the job she currently held. She was already doing most of the work Mr. Sarsky should’ve been doing, and yet receiving a salary that was only a fraction of his—and no recognition other than the occasional thank you he offered. Elaine knew she possessed both the attributes and leadership to get the company back on track and was frustrated with the “ol’ boys’ club” for not recognizing her talents.

  Elaine had tried to help Mr. Sarsky confront his drinking problem. She’d put an empty bottle of whiskey on his desk at night, left his liquor cabinet open and set a half-full glass of whiskey on a side table in the office to alert him that others might notice his drinking and that he should stop, at least at work. Unfortunately, the tactics had not deterred him at all; in fact, his drinking had actually increased, perhaps his way of trying to overcome the fear of being found out.

  As Elaine settled into her novel, the phone rang. The blinking extension told it was Alan Peakan, chairman of the board.

  “Good morning, Mr. Peakan. If you’re hoping to speak with Mr. Sarsky, he’s away at a conference. He’ll be back tomorrow morning, however.”

  “Actually, Miss McIntyre, it’s you I wish to speak to—can we speak in confidence?”

  “Certainly, I’m the only one in the office at the moment.”

  “I’ve given considerable thought as to whether I should call you or not. But my fondness for Mr. Sarsky and concern for him made the decision for me. This is something of a delicate nature, you understand.”

  He paused. Elaine knew what was coming next but decided not to volunteer anything. “What can I do for you?”

  The man sighed. “I’m in the very uncomfortable position of having to ask you if there’s anything going on in the office that may perhaps not be in the best interest of the company.”

  “What exactly do you mean?”

  Mr. Peakan paused again, obviously weighing his words. “Some of the board members have noted that Mr. Sarsky doesn’t seem himself lately. He doesn’t appear well…and perhaps his inattention due to this is the reason for the loss in sales over the past year. Are you aware of this, Miss McIntyre?”

  “Yes, I’ve noticed on occasion that Mr. Sarsky doesn’t seem well. His is an important job and it carries a lot of stress.”

  “We are aware of the pressures of the president’s job, and also that, in the end, he must accept responsibility for the health of the company. But I, or rather the board, was wondering if there was something more specific ailing Mr. Sarsky that you might be aware of, a contributing factor to the sharp decline in the company’s net profit? I ask this in Mr. Sarsky’s best interests, to help him, of course.”

  “Of course, Mr. Peakan. I fully understand.”

  And before Elaine could offer an answer, Mr. Peakan added, “Do you think a few days off to rest would suffice or would his condition require a more lengthy remedy?”

  How much more could the man say without coming right out and accusing Mr. Sarsky of being an alcoholic? She knew the company was faltering. Her job and those of hundreds of others across the country depended on sound leadership. Yet her loyalty was so strong that not even the risk of losing her job made her waver. Elaine knew they were trying to get some hard evidence that Mr. Sarsky had a drinking problem, but she was not about to add fuel to the fire.

  “Mr. Peakan, I’m very glad you and the other board members are so concerned for Mr. Sarsky’s well-being. You’re aware there’s likely something amiss and, of course, have the company’s welfare at heart. I am confident that the board will remain on top of this matter and do whatever is necessary to improve the company’s bottom line. With that, I really have nothing further to offer at this time.”

  Mr. Peakan didn’t respond for a few moments. “Thank you, Miss McIntyre, I appreciate your loyalty and your commitment to the president. Perhaps I shouldn’t have put you in such a precarious position. I assure you this will not affect your employment at Mackurcher and Company.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Peakan.”

  “I, or rather the Board, thought you might be able to shed a little light on the matter. In any case, I trust you will keep this conversation in confidence. I don’t wish to add to Mr. Sarsky’s concerns.”

  “Of course. I will keep this conversation in confidence as I would any I hold with Mr. Sarsky.”

  “Thank you, Miss McIntyre, for your time. Good day.”

  “Goodbye, Mr. Peakan.”

  How easy it would be to expose and dethrone Mr. Sarsky in such a way as to reveal her talents, abilities and clear insight into how the company should be successfully operated. If she were ruthless, she could quickly point out what the problems were and where Ted was failing—and just as quickly offer the solutions. She could have outlined her vision and listed the steps she would take to realize her goals. It was the perfect opportunity to make a strong case for herself, but she was a person of integrity. She had morals and compassion. She would never take advantage of or hit a man when he was down, especially her president. Her position as personal secretary carried with it a commitment she remained loyal to.

  Elaine sipped her now cold coffee and settled back to read her book, nodding in approval each time another trait of the heroine was revealed: how she inspired others to share her vision, made them feel part of the challenge and shared the victory. Executives who had first questioned the heroine’s abilities dug in and worked much harder than they normally would have.Money is only one motivation, the heroine said at one point.

  “That’s right,” Elaine agreed. Personal satisfaction, achievement, recognition and glory are clearly the impetus for team success. A leader must always be vigilant to keep those elements alive.

  Although the novel’s heroine had many fears, she never allowed her doubts or personal problems to interfere or even be known. And when she was confronted by an obstacle, she strove all the harder and persevered until success was achieved.

  Elaine could clearly see how Ted had lowered the bar of success at Mackurcher and Co. He was no longer setting the example, his vision and communication were no longer clear. Incompetence had crept in, and mediocrity had stuck its ugly foot in the door. Elaine was getting worked up thinking about it all. If only she was given the chance, an opportunity to take control for three months, say, or six, the board would see the company’s shares skyrocket to a height the likes of which the stock exchange had never before witnessed.

  Frustrated, beads of perspiration formed on her brow. She felt so handicapped. When you could see the problem—and, just as clearly—the solution but were restricted from action, it affected the spirit. Elaine took a deep breath and exhaled slowly.

  As she continued to read, it felt like the author knew her inside out. Like the heroine in the book, Elaine usually wore a two-piece
suit. Today it was a pinstriped number in banker grey. Under her jacket was a snow-white blouse with a soft collar that folded over the jacket’s lapels. The woman in the book was blond and Elaine’s hair was dark brown. Both women, however, combed their hair straight back and wore it folded into a tight bun.

  Elaine and the heroine were each attractive and sophisticated. Each wore glasses revealing lively, intelligent brown eyes. Both were tall, shapely and exuded an air of efficiency and authority as they went about their work. And both were economical in their speech, precise and to the point.

  Elaine read on, admiring the woman’s intelligence, perception, punctuality, competency and orderliness, recognizing those attributes in herself as well. She put the book down. She looked like a president and certainly had the abilities to act as one. And yet here she was, realizing that ambition vicariously through the life of some heroine in a work of fiction.

  The only consolation, if there was one, was that she was, in fact, fulfilling the responsibilities of a company president. Indirectly, she had power and authority. She had learned the subtle skill of advising her bosses without seeming to. So in a sense, she was at the top.

  She sighed. That was all well and good, but all the fantasizing in the world wouldn’t change things at Mackurcher and Co. They had a problem and unfortunately it was at the top, the most vulnerable spot, where any damage could be fatal.

  She had lied to Mr. Peakan. She knew what was bothering Mr. Sarsky. Those darn letters. When her boss had first arrived, he was decisive, quickly assessing his staff and placing them in positions where they could be most effective. He’d created immediate positive results and she’d agreed with his decisions. What normally took months if not years to notice in others—people’s motives and weaknesses—Ted had seen almost instantly. If only he could see his own, now. His instincts had been remarkable. Better than her own. Within weeks, morale had improved and sales immediately increased.

  Unfortunately, it was this very man who was now the cause of the company’s even steeper decline. His leadership capability had taken a nosedive right after he’d ordered her and Michael to destroy his daughter’s and her boyfriend’s letters.

  Elaine had few regrets in life, but a big one was that she hadn’t read at least one of those letters before they’d been burned.

  The phone jangled her out of her thoughts and she realized she’d read the same paragraph ten times.

  “Good morning, Mackurcher and Company. How may I assist you?”

  “Hello, Elaine, this is Mike from down in the basement.”

  Elaine straightened in her chair. “Yes, what is it, Michael?”

  “I was just cleaning out the furnace room after they took the old boiler out and I found another couple of those letters. They must have slid underneath when all those letters fell out of the box that day.”

  “Oh my!”

  “Do you want them? Or do you need to watch me throw them into the furnace like last time?”

  Unbelievable! She’d just wished she’d read one of those letters! But as the opportunity stared her in the face, she wondered if it was really the right thing to do. Was something trying to tell her this chance might be used to Mr. Sarsky’s benefit, maybe even the company as a whole? What should she do? She should tell Mike she’d be right down to get them. But what if Ted somehow found out somehow she had them?

  Oh, things were so complicated when people weren’t straightforward with each other!

  “Elaine, are you still there?”

  “Yes…yes, I was just deciding whether or not I needed to come down there. No, Michael, I don’t need to come down. I know you’ll deal with the matter immediately and ensure the letters are destroyed. I appreciate it very much that you let me know.”

  “Well, I thought I’d better. I’m sure Mr. Sarsky would be very upset if they got lost or weren’t destroyed like he wanted.”

  “Yes, Michael, Mr. Sarsky would be very upset and concerned. I’m very glad you found them. Please burn them straight away and ensure that there are no others.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  And that’s that, she thought, glad not to have to go downstairs to the dingy basement. She felt for Michael, having to work in such a gloomy environment day in and day out. About now he’d be going into the hot furnace room, the new boiler blazing away as he tossed the letters in. Her memories of watching him burn the others still lingered in her mind. How he’d struggled to pick up the letters that had slipped out of his grasp and thrust them into the leaping flames of the furnace. She could still see the sweat carve its way through the dust and grime on Michael’s face like rivulets forming on a dirt road in a rainstorm.

  Distracted, Elaine got herself a fresh cup of coffee, then returned to her desk and picked up her novel, but the thought of those letters ricocheted through her mind. Doubt gnawed at her. What would it hurt to read just one if I gained some insight that might help Ted—and the company? Maybe she’d find out why such an outstanding leader had faltered so quickly.

  Before she could rethink it again, Elaine picked up the phone and called down to the basement.

  “Hello.”

  “Michael, it’s Elaine. I was just thinking about those letters again. Perhaps it would be best for me to see them after all. I’ll be right down—”

  “Elaine, I…I…burned them.”

  She almost cried.

  “Thank you, Michael.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  It was late and the rehearsal for Hamlet hadn’t gone that well. With only two weeks to go, Mr. Johnston was displeased with the lack of commitment of several of the actors. Jenny was glad she had studied her lines and hadn’t added to his aggravation—at least not today. As she made her way down the hallway to the parking lot she noticed Tammy sitting on a bench near the door, staring out the window. “What is she still doing here?” Jenny muttered as she slowed her pace and quietly made her way towards her friend.

  Tammy was so absorbed in thought she didn’t notice Jenny coming until her friend put a hand on her shoulder.

  “What are you still doing here, Tammy? It’s almost five. Did you miss your ride?”

  “Robert and I had a fight. I was just about to phone home and have Mom come get me.”

  “Oh, Tammy. I’m sure it’ll be okay. Tell me what it was about.”

  Tammy turned to her, the silent tears sliding down her cheeks becoming a waterfall, her sobs audible.

  Jenny studied her friend. This was something more serious than a little spat.

  “Tammy, what’s wrong?” Jenny sat next to her troubled friend and tugged her in for a hug. Jenny had never seen Tammy look so distressed. “Tell me what’s troubling you…can I help? Has it got something to do with what you were going to tell me the other day?”

  Tammy nodded. “I don’t know what to do Jen…I—I’m pregnant. The doctor confirmed it yesterday.” With that Tammy’s crying escalated into an almost uncontrollable hysteria.

  Jenny was momentarily paralyzed and didn’t know what to do or say. Flashes of her own pregnancy swept across the screen of her mind. So much pain and heartache. The rape, thoughts of abortion, feeling the baby kick in her womb, growing to love her even before she was born, the adoption, the absence of Henry’s support and love. Other than the social workers and medical staff, only her parents knew of her baby’s existence. Jenny had never shared it with any of her friends. Now she wondered if she should tell her best friend that she understood exactly what she was going through.

  Compassion welled inside her and she began to stroke her friend’s shoulder, though she remained silent. Gradually the heaving subsided and Tammy made a considerable effort to speak calmly through her tears.

  “If only Robert wanted the baby, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t! He…he thinks we’re too young and that our lives would get too complicated. That it would interfere with his basketball s
cholarship and that it would mess up my academic one too. Who knows if they’ll even let me finish Grade 12!” Tammy stopped for a moment and took a tissue out of her purse. She went to wipe her nose but instead burst out again, “He—he wants me to have an abortion! Oh Jenny, what am I going to do?”

  Jenny knew in her heart it would be a terrible thing to do and that her friend would regret that decision for the rest of her life. Tammy was alone in this just the way she had been. Only she still felt that if Henry had known he would have supported her. She considered what to say. There was only one thing she could.

  “Tammy, there’s something I want to share with you that I haven’t told anyone. My parents are the only ones who know.”

  Jenny slid her arm from Tammy’s shoulder and held both hands in her lap, as if cradling the swollen belly that had once held her daughter. She turned to face her troubled friend.

  For a moment Tammy forgot herself and sat up, sensing her best friend was going to share something that would help her. She wiped her nose and the solitary tear hovering on her lashes, looking right into Jenny’s eyes.

  “Tammy, you remember the boy I met in Regina the summer before I started Grade 9?”

  Tammy nodded. “Henry. You thought he would be an artist someday and he’s the one you sent the pewter angel to back then.”

  “Right,” Jenny said. “What I wanted to tell you was that during that summer, one night on the way home after Henry and I went to a movie, some boys in a car attacked us and took me to the park.”

  Now it was Jenny’s turn to cry. Just the thought of that night sent tremors through her body. Jenny reached out and took Tammy’s hand. “Tammy, I was raped by one of those three boys…”

  “Oh, Jenny…!”

  “I didn’t realize it until after Christmas when I noticed I was gaining weight. At the end of January I learned that I was pregnant.”