No Slave To Destiny

"Oh, Dad. Sorry. I can't. I have a meeting at 1.30 and I just have to be there. You know how it is. Let's make it another time. But I can spend a few minutes with you now. Let's go to my office," she offered. I followed her up the short flight of stairs to a cozy window office with nondescript furniture.

"Well, this is nice," I observed. "I can't believe I've never been here before."

Jen shrugged. "Time flies. So, what's up Dad? Nice to see you up and about. Must be important."

"Jen, I couldn't wait any longer. I've been doing a lot of thinking over the past week and I plain ran out of patience, to be honest. I was hoping you had made a decision about the baby that you could share with me."

"Actually, yes, Dad. Last night in fact," she replied.

"And?"

"And ... I've decided..." Jen hesitated a moment longer, looking intently at me so she would be better able to judge my reaction. "... I've decided to keep the baby."

"Yes!" I exclaimed. "Oh my goodness, yes. Thank God."

"I gather you're happy? That's what you wanted to hear?"

"Good Lord, yes. That's exactly what I was hoping. This is a very special day for you. And for me."

"How so?" she asked.

"We're growing our family again, that's how so. After months of heartache over the loss of your mother, we finally have something to celebrate." And suddenly, at that very moment, I felt Peg's absence more acutely than ever. Subdued now by the flood of conflicting emotions I was experiencing, I could only utter: "If I had one wish it would be that she was here with us right now."

"I know Dad. I miss her terribly too," said Jen. "She would have been pleased with my decision wouldn't she." Jen offered this as a statement, rather than a question. She came around her desk, hugged me and ruffled the hair on my balding pate playfully. "Thanks Dad. Thanks for being you."

That's when providence walked into the room. "Jen, I need for you..... Oh, hi" said the newcomer, looking at me. "Sorry, didn't mean to interrupt."

Jen made the introductions. "Susan, this my Dad. Dad, this is Susan Biddulph, our COO and also my direct boss now. Since my recent little promotion, anyway."

"Hello," I said with some formality as I stood up to take her hand, not failing to give her my broadest smile. "My name's Dave. Jen has talked about you. All good, I promise."

"That's nice to hear," said Susan switching her gaze back to Jen. "You haven't forgotten about the 1:30 meeting right? Just wanted to ask you to bring along the file we were working on." Then turning to look at me once more she continued: "Jen is one of our star employees and an invaluable help to me. I'd be lost without her to be honest."

Susan was probably in her early fifties and one of the most attractive women I had ever seen. She was slightly taller than average and carried herself with poise and grace, all the markings of a self-made successful career woman. She wore a fawn-colored crushed suede pant suite. Her unbuttoned leather jacket revealed a long-sleeved light beige sweater with a gable stitch pattern. Underneath she wore a black silk blouse buttoned at the neck.

Stud pearl earrings matched an unpretentious pearl necklace on a delicate gold chain about her neck, complementing a white-gold watch and strap that she wore on her left wrist. With these exceptions, she wore no other jewelery. I did not notice a wedding ring.

What truly held my attention was her gray-green eyes offset by a bronzed complexion and full head of mink-blond hair that she wore swept back from her forehead, tumbling loosely about her temples. A la Marilyn Monroe style, I thought. And not much make-up. This was one very confident lady.

I had held my gaze too long and risked embarrassing both Susan and Jen. "Ahm... sorry. Yes. Well, I'm very glad" I stammered. "That Jen is such a help. And ... and to meet you." There was a moment of awkward silence. I was feeling pretty silly and looked for a way out of the moment. "I guess I'll get going so you two can finish getting ready for your meeting."

"Dave, I believe Jen told me once that you work for an IT company?" asked Susan before I could reach the doorway.

"Um, yes." Another awkward moment. "Well, actually, I'm....."

"That's right," interrupted Jen. "Dad is with a company called Gavel Technologies. They've been around for years and years. Isn't that right, Dad?"

"Exactly, Jen. As a leading consulting firm we offer complete hardware and software solutions. We particularly take pride in our after-market service reputation," I added.

Susan studied me for a moment, smiled and looked as though she was about to leave when a thought must have crossed her mind. "Interesting. You know, and this is on the hush-hush for now -- you too Jen --" she said glancing across the room at my daughter, "but our company is going to need a complete IT overhaul shortly. I have a Request for Proposal out and some bids in response to the RFP. But it's not too late if Gavel would like to compete."

It was a moment for truth. Jen's interjection was welcome but I needed to put all my cards on the table if this invitation was going to be taken further.

"Susan, I have to be honest." Out of the corner of my eye I saw Jen flop down in her seat. "Gavel Technologies is a wonderful company and I'm pretty sure we can meet any and all of your requirements. But, you see, I am not currently employed by them. Or anyone else, for that matter. I'm kinda between jobs." Please don't probe, Susan, I thought. Please.

"Oh I see," she said. Then added as an afterthought: "But you know the Principals, right?"

"Heavens yes," I replied quickly. "I've been with.... I was with... Gavel for over 20 years and am... was... Sales and Marketing Director."

"Then I don't see why the company would not qualify to compete. Why not explore it with them and let me know?" offered Susan, handing me her business card. This time she did make her way to the door to leave.

"Yeah, sure. Thanks Susan!" I replied.

"No problem. Nice meeting you. And see you in a few, Jen." With that Susan left the room.

"Wow" Jen and I said almost simultaneously.

"That's a nice break," she said from her chair. "What do you think?"

"We haven't got the project yet," I replied. "But, yeah, what an opportunity."

"When are you going to contact Arthur? I would think a response from Gavel should be expeditious. There's always so much work involved in responding to an RFP and they won't keep the file open forever you know," warned Jen. "Susan sounded like this was something they wanted to move on quickly."

"Not sure how I'm going to approach this," I volunteered. "It's a bit problematic. Might seem like I'm trying to buy my way back into the company. I dunno. Could be pretty uncomfortable to begin with but I'll think of something and get cracking on it."

I said goodbye to Jen, reminded her of her promised upcoming weekend visit, and promptly left the office for the commute home. I had a great deal to think about and a glass or two of scotch would help to settle the nerves and bring focus to the day's events.

Jen called the next evening to say she had been to the hospital that morning and had just been released. She lost the baby. A miscarriage. It happens. "I'm sorry," she said. "Forgive me Dad."

Those words choked me up. Forgive her? For what?

"Can I come home?" she asked. She was naturally distraught and wanted to be with me for a few days to 'get her head straight.'

"Yes. Come home." Where else?

Despite my best intentions, alcohol once more dictated my options and responses. By the time Jen arrived I was in no state to support anyone. She needed me to help her make sense of what had happened. I needed Peg more than ever to make sense of my unraveled life.

As I feared, the lifeline thrown to me just a few days before had now been taken away. I was over the edge, in free-fall. Pathetic, but there it was. I had failed my daughter. I was unable to help her at a time when she needed my support the most. Instead, it was Jen who again had to come to my rescue.

She did her best to hide the bottles, to slow my access. She tried to talk to me about what was happening but through the fog I didn't understand a word she said. Not really. She called Mark and he made the interstate trip a day earlier than planned, arriving early Friday afternoon.

Unlike Jen who exhibited unqualified empathy and compassion in trying to reach me, my son was full of recrimination as he expressed his anger and disappointment in me. The siblings argued vehemently over this in a way I had never heard them quarrel before. Of course I knew it hurt Mark to see me in this condition, just like it did Jen Even so I did not expect what happened next. He left before the weekend was out.

"I'll be there to help you, Dad. But only when you're ready to help yourself," were his parting words. As I watched him drive away, all I could think about was getting the driveway paved, like I always promised Peg I would.

****

It was after 6:00 in the evening and most of the staff at Wadkins, Walden had already left for home. As Susan stood at the elevator doors she noticed Jen's lights were still on.

"Jen? You're working late again," she said as she stepped into the office.

"Just tidying a few things. I'm almost done," explained Jen.

"While we're alone," continued Susan, "there's a couple of things I've been meaning to ask you."

"Yes?" offered Jen, looking up from the pile of papers on her desk.

"This is kind of awkward and you don't have to answer the question, Jen, but how are your doing? I was very sorry to hear about the baby."

"Yeah, well. Thanks for asking Susan. I'll get over it. You know how it is," replied Jen.

"No, I don't actually. I never married. I don't have children," explained Susan.

"Um...yeah. Sorry. I'd forgotten. Sorry."

"Well?"

"I'm fine, really. I'm still feeling a little sad of course. Losing the baby came as such a shock. But I guess everything happens for a reason, right? So I've kinda accepted that and I'm doing okay now."

"Good. Glad to hear it. One other thing. It's only been a few days but I was wondering... I haven't heard from your father yet. No pressure or anything, but the Assets Acquisition Committee meets Thursday next week and I'd at least like to be able to tell them which companies are interested in working with us."

"I understand Susan. I'll check with him. Maybe give him a call this evening and find out where's he's at and let you know tomorrow. Is that okay?"

"That'll be fine, Jen. Just let him know that if Gavel wants into the competition, I'll have to meet with him and the Principals and give them the low-down and the RFP outline so they can get working on it."

As she turned to leave, Jen impulsively called out to her boss. Then, just as quickly, regretted it. Committed now, she struggled to find the words she needed. "Susan. I ... I ..."

"What is it Jen? Something wrong?"

"No. Yes."

"Which is it?" asked Susan with an encouraging smile.

"Yes. At least I think so. I'm worried about my Dad."

Susan walked towards Jen's desk, put her briefcase down and took a seat. "Tell me. Maybe there's something I can do to help."

"Thank you," replied Jen gratefully, mindful of the fact that her boss was intent on taking whatever time was necessary to listen to her. 'Pretty special' thought Jen to herself, now feeling a little more reassured.

"Well. To be honest, I don't think he ever got over my Mom's death. In fact, I know he hasn't. The truth is – and this is very hard for me to say – he's drinking. An awful lot. All the time. I think he's depressed. He doesn't seem to be able to get on with his life. I'm sorry. I shouldn't be bothering you with this. But my brother Mark and I are at our wits end. We just don't know what to do anymore."

"Have you suggested counseling?"

"Yes. So apparently did Dad's boss – I should say his ex-boss. But so far he hasn't admitted to himself that he needs the help. I can't force him to pick up the phone, can I?"

"No, you can't. But you could try to facilitate things a bit. Jen, you may not know this but I lost my younger sister to a drunk driving accident almost three years ago. The guy was three times over the limit when he jumped a red light and broadsided her car. He was fine but she died in hospital from her injuries two days later.

"She and I were very close and I couldn't get over what happened to her. I kept playing over and over in my mind how violently and needlessly she had died. I felt so guilty, as though being the older one I should have been able to prevent it somehow. Eventually I went to a psychologist and while it took some time, I found that with his help I could keep going. I could focus on my work again and the positive things in my life. After a few months I was over the worst of it.

"I still carry the pain, of course. You're never completely without pain after losing someone you love. But you do learn to cope with the loss. At least most people do. Just as you have with your Mom and now the baby."

"I'm sorry about your sister, Susan," said Jen. "I hadn't heard."

"Thanks. Anyway, my point is everyone handles crises differently. Psychologists know that and can develop a program that will help each patient in a unique way to deal with loss or life's other disappointments.

"Here, pass me a pen and piece of paper and I'll give you the name and number of the doctor I went to. He's very good. When the time is right, pass the information on to your father. That way he'll have it if and when he decides to get help. Only don't leave it too long. And then try to encourage him to make the call. Okay? You can tell him I suggested it, provided you don't think he'd find that too presumptuous of me."

Jen decided the time was 'right' as soon as she got home. "Hi Dad. I was working late and just got in. How are you doing?"

"Fine. Okay, I guess. How are you?"

"I'm good. Have you eaten?"

"No, not yet."

"Why not put something in the microwave? You know, the one of the meals I left for you in the freezer some time back? It wouldn't take long," said Jen.

"Yeah. Guess I'll do that."

"Listen, Dad. Hmmm... I was talking to Susan after work and she said she hasn't heard from you yet about the proposal. I told her I'd call to see what's going on. Did you call Arthur?"

"No."

"Why on earth not? I thought you were going to get right on it."

"I will. I will. I Just have to figure out how, is all."

"How? Dad, all you have to do is pick up the god-damned phone. Geez, what's so hard about that?"

Jen was getting angry and she had every right to be. After all when Susan extended the invitation, it wasn't only my reputation that was put on the line. My behavior was reflecting badly on Jen, rightly or wrongly. And Susan was also on the spot. She had made a judgment call about me and I wasn't being very respectful by failing to come through for her.

"'Kay. Leave it with me. I'll call Arthur tomorrow morning and then call Susan, one way or the other. I just hope he's not out of the office, traveling somewhere."

I was slurring my words and Jen must have known a bottle stood on the table beside me. "Just make sure you're sober when you do," she admonished. "Dad, another thing. Might as well bring it up now since I'm on a roll."

"Yeah. Wazzup?"

"Dad, have you given any more thought to grief counseling?"

"Yeah. And I still prefer the IT profession." I was trying to be humorous and evasive.

"You know what I mean, Dad. I mean have you thought about going to a counselor."

"No, not really. I'm going to be fine. Just need a bit more time."

"Won't you consider it? Do it for me and Mark," she pleaded.

"I'll think on it," I responded, hoping my curt answer would bring an end to conversation. It didn't.

"Thanks," she said, "but I want to hear more than that. Dad, Susan lost a sister to a car accident some years back and had a really bad time of it too. She went to counseling and she said it really helped her. She gave me some information for the doctor she went to and said I could pass it along. Do you have something to write on?"

There was no point arguing with her. No good reason not to take down the contact. So I did.

"I'll give you a call again later tomorrow," she said. "When I do, I want to hear that you've called Arthur and Susan, and the doctor. That's three calls. That's all I need from you. Will you promise to do that?"

"Three calls. Right. Tomorrow. I promise."

"Good," she replied. "I love you Dad. Talk again tomorrow, okay?"

As soon as Jen hung up I refilled my tumbler and turned off the lights in the living room. Staring into the dark, I sipped on the whiskey and reflected once more on what my life had become.

It was around 3:30 in the morning when I awoke from a nightmare, sweating profusely. Try as I may, I couldn't remember the details of the dream. My only recollection was that some monstrous, deformed entity was terrorizing Jen and Mark inside a concrete bunker as I stood by, powerless to help.

In that pre-dawn calm, enveloped in silent darkness except for the sound of my own labored breathing, I felt the heavy malaise of foreboding. Nausea gripped the pit of my stomach and my pulse was racing. Suddenly I realized I was very, very afraid ... afraid of living, yes, but much more terrified of being the agent of my own death if I did not soon take control of my destiny. And, if I failed in this, what good would I be to my kids? Neither needed a parent, certainly. But I was all the immediate family they had left. I headed upstairs for a long shower and a couple more hours of sleep. I would need a bit more rest if I was to keep my promise and make some important phone calls.

Later that morning, as I lifted the receiver to dial Arthur's number, I took one more long sip from my drink. Not completely sober, I felt moderately coherent and clear-headed. Arthur was in his office.

"Hey. How are you?" I asked.

"Dave!" he almost yelled my name with enthusiasm.

"Yeah, it's me."

"How are you?" asked Arthur. "You're not going to believe this but I had you on my agenda to call today. Been wondering how you're making out."

"Not too good, I'm afraid." I thought it best to be honest. After all, what I had to say wasn't all bad news.

"I see," responded Arthur, now more subdued. He paused, anticipating I would carry the conversation forward. After all, I had placed the call.

"There's something I wanted to let you know. And something I want to discuss with you," I continued. "I felt you should know that I will be contacting a grief counselor today ... to begin my rehabilitation." There, I had said it. The first step to recovery was to admit you had a problem.

Arthur's voice betrayed his usually stoic demeanor. "That's music to my ears, Dave. Truly. I hope you'll let me know how you're progressing. I'd like to have you back in the shop sooner rather than later."

"I hear you," I replied, grateful in the knowledge that he hadn't completely written off our relationship since that fateful day during Hayworth's meeting.

"What is it you wanted to discuss, Dave?"

"Well, Arthur, I'm not sure how to say this without sounding Machiavellian," I began. "But as you know Jen works for a pretty large Financial Consulting group on the other side of town. I was visiting with her last week and her boss mentioned that they are in the market for some IT work. A lot of IT work, as it happens. I said I'd raise it with you. See if Gavel is interested in competing. Whatever you decide, with or without me, that's fine. I understand, honest. I told them I'm not with you....currently. I just thought it was an opportunity you'd like to explore further."

"What's the deal Dave?" asked Arthur.