by Vicki Delany
Nevertheless, Joanna emerged energized into the excitement of the city streets. Black shapes, haunting dreams and empty bank accounts were forgotten. She was pumped and ready to do business.
The offices of her old company were located close to King and Bay Streets, the financial heart of Canada. Serious-faced corporate employees dressed alike in their matching power suits, differing only in a choice of skirts or pants, scurried through the streets intent on the next deal.
On a very rare day Toronto would forget that it was almost winter and break out into warm winds and bright sunshine. Secretaries, office clerks and CEOs alike rushed out of their air-conditioned, sealed window offices to bask for a few brief moments in the faux-spring sunshine and munch on a hot dog purchased from the ubiquitous street-corner vendor. This was such a day and Joanna moved through the crowded post-lunchtime mob as if she belonged once again. Except that she felt terribly provincial in her heavy winter coat (it was minus ten degrees in Hope River this morning) and last year’s suit.
The security guard at the front desk was new. He didn’t recognize Joanna so she had to take a seat and cool her heels in the lobby while they tried to locate Fred. She watched groups of employees returning from over-long Friday lunches. There were a lot of new faces. The majority was dressed in semi-business wear-shirt without tie, nice sweater instead of a jacket, and a few wore jeans and running shoes. Joanna tugged at the hem of her skirt and glanced ruefully at her high heels. She forgot all about “casual Fridays,” she’d look totally out of place.
“Joanna, there you are!” Fred Blanchard strode across the lobby, beaming widely. She got to her feet and accepted the outstretched hand.
He pumped her hand enthusiastically. He was dressed immaculately, as always, in light gray slacks and white open-necked shirt with a tasteful, thin stripe exactly matching the color of his pants. His salt-and-pepper hair was perfectly groomed, not a strand out of place. A large gold signet ring graced the little finger of his left hand, side by side with a huge wedding band. Joanna knew that he went for a manicure once a week.
He hustled her past the security guard and into the elevators. The moment the doors opened on the executive floor, a secretary was summoned to divest Joanna of her winter coat. She was an attractive, young blond dressed in skin-tight jeans and a short pink sweater that barely reached her waist. Open toed-pink shoes with three-inch heels would never be Joanna’s idea of suitable footwear for casual day.
They watched the secretary totter off to the coat closet. “Where is Anna? I was looking forward to seeing her.” Anna had been in charge of the executive floor for as long as Joanna could remember.
“She decided to take a package. Left about a month ago.”
“That’s funny,” Joanna said. “When I spoke to her at my farewell party she told me she never planned to retire. ‘They’ll have to carry me out feet first in a wooden box,’ is what she said.”
“Well, people change their minds all the time. Bring in the coffee now,” he ordered the returning secretary.
He held the door to the boardroom open with mock ceremony. Joanna looked around her with interest. As a lowly employee she had never before been through the hallowed portals. It was pretty disappointing. The prints on the wall were cheap and unimaginative, dirty coffee cups and saucers and a plastic platter containing the remains of a breakfast meeting’s half-eaten muffins and bagels still sat on the side table. A tattered fake palm tree in dire need of a good dusting drooped against the window.
“Well, I must say, Joanna, you look marvelous. Absolutely marvelous,” Fred gushed. “It’s wonderful to see you again.”
“It’s great to be here,” Joanna lied again. I wonder if that hair is real, she thought. It always looks exactly the same.
He noticed her bandages. “What have you done to your wrist?”
“It’s just a sprain. I fell skiing.” Sounds a lot better than saying she slipped on a bar of soap in the shower. “I can’t use it much.”
“Well, I hope it gets better soon.”
The secretary arrived bearing a tray with a carafe of coffee and two sets of cups and saucers. They sat in silence while the coffee was poured.
The woman closed the door behind her as she left. Joanna wished that she would take the dirty dishes with her. She glanced at her watch. It was ten past.
“Who else will be joining us?”
Fred cleared his throat and opened the folder already in place on the table in front of him. “Just us today. I know that you and I can come to a reasonable deal.”
“But I think we need input from all the department heads. If I’m going to put together a truly comprehensive package, the more opinions the better. Don’t you agree?”
Fred shuffled his papers and laughed nervously. “I think it’s best to proceed slowly at first. We’ve decided not to go ahead with the entire package for the time being.” He drummed his carefully manicured fingernails on the wooden table. “I think we could start with a user’s guide. Sort of an introduction to the system, for now.”
Joanna listened to him in mounting horror. This was not what she was counting on. She kept her face smooth and her voice steady as she sipped at the weak, tepid coffee just to give herself a chance to recover. “You know that in the long run it’s a good deal more expensive and time consuming to try to do each piece as a separate unit rather than creating a strategy that covers all aspects of the entire product.” Her voice sounded strong and steady, while inside she was screaming.
“Yes, we’ve discussed all that. But this is what we’ve decided to do.”
She pretended to shift through the papers he passed to her, her mind racing. Her contract would be a lot smaller than she was hoping for, smaller than she needed to keep herself afloat.
“You worked so closely on drawing up the sales desktop, Joanna,” Fred droned on in the distance. “You shouldn’t have too much trouble writing it all up.” She could turn it down, and try to find something bigger. But what if nothing else came up?
“How much?” She folded the papers neatly and smiled up at Fred.
He named a figure. Joanna shook her head. “That would cover one portion of the whole project,” she said, “but if there is no whole project this will have to cost you more.” She named a counter-figure. It was almost half as much again as she would reasonably expect.
Fred agreed without hesitation. She should have gone higher.
They covered off the details quickly. Fred handed her a slip of paper with the name and numbers of the technical analyst she would be working with, Francis Fukuyama. Another new name. “Unfortunately, he’s not in today, or I’d take you down and introduce you. But you can give him a call when you’re ready and he’ll upload as much of the system to you as you need.”
Fred walked her to the elevator. He gripped her hand firmly and held it too long. “So nice to see you again. Next time you’re in town perhaps we could have dinner.”
She pulled her hand away. “Perhaps.” She stepped into the elevator and stabbed at the ground floor button. The doors shut firmly in front of her face.
Joanna visited her favorite bookstores to stock up on the latest mystery best sellers (of which the nearest library to Hope River was sadly lacking), and to check out what was happening in the world of computer books and periodicals. She stared at the rows of titles but registered very little. She tried to push the day’s events aside but the disastrous meeting keep replaying itself in her mind, like an out of control video. Either Fred was out of the loop and he couldn’t get approval for his project; or, he could be trying to shut her out. Offer her only a portion of the job in the hope that she would go away. Either way she was back into the hateful world of corporate politics that she moved to Hope River to escape.
She tossed a handful of paperbacks and magazines onto the cash counter with little idea of what she had chosen.
Joanna strolled up and down Queen Street West but she was far too tense and upset to fully enjoy the warmth of the l
ate afternoon sun on her face. The locals were out in all their finery to celebrate the sunny day. The street was a veritable sea of black leather, nose rings and multi-hued hair. Before long she was experiencing a feeling of mild discomfort. It was apart from her frustration over the meeting with Fred, and it wasn’t something she could put a name to, but she felt uncomfortable and out-of-place in the crowded streets. Her winter coat was weighing heavily across her shoulders and her feet were aching in the unfamiliar pumps.
She was due to meet Elaine for dinner at six o’clock. Long before time she turned south on John Street and pushed her way through the crowds to one of her favorite eateries. The restaurant was still empty, staff milling aimlessly about waiting for the expected Friday evening rush. She asked for a table beside the window, and was given the best in the house, overlooking the street. The setting sun streamed in through the window and glittered gaily on the glassware. Joanna opened her bag of books and browsed through her purchases while sipping slowly at a glass of Merlot. Some of the titles she didn’t ever remember choosing but as usual the unconscious had done a great job. She would love them all.
With a flurry of fur coat and squeals of delight Elaine burst into the dining room. Spotting the coat, the waiter rushed over immediately to escort her to the table and presented large, elaborate menus and a smaller, more discreet one for the wine list.
Once settled, they kissed each other enthusiastically and exclaimed, with total sincerity, over how well the other was looking. Elaine slipped on her reading glasses, a necessary embarrassment, and studied the wines carefully. “Shall we order a bottle, dear?”
“Nothing more for me,” Joanna said. “I have to nurse this one all night.”
Elaine dismissed the waiter with a wave of her hand. “Whatever for? Aren’t you celebrating tonight?”
“Not exactly. And I’ve decided to drive straight home after dinner.”
Elaine peered at her intently over the rim of the glasses. “I thought you were staying with Wendy.”
“I didn’t even mention to her that I’m in town.” Joanna opened her menu. “I think there is some trouble between her and Robert. So I don’t think this is a good time for me to impose on them. Besides, Wendy is worried about me enough as it is. I don’t really want her to see this,” Joanna held up her bandaged wrist, “and start worrying all over again.”
“You could come home with me. You know you’re always welcome.”
Joanna smiled. She knew. “Not tonight, but thanks.”
“Won’t it be a long drive home?”
“Yes. But believe it or not, I miss it up there, and I’ve only been away since this morning.”
They studied their menus in silence for a few minutes. “Everything looks so wonderful,” Joanna laughed. “I can’t decide. But I think that I should have something fairly light with that long drive still ahead of me. Seems like a waste, though.”
“Well, I’m starving. So I’ll make up for you.”
The waiter took their orders: a small serving of pasta with roasted vegetables for Joanna, and for Elaine, mussels to start, followed by the veal with wild mushrooms.
“What do you mean, you’re not celebrating tonight?” Elaine returned to the subject as the waiter slipped a basket of fancy breads onto their table. “Don’t tell me you didn’t get the contract!”
Joanna explained the details. “This is going to make it tough,” she said. “I’ve going to have to drum up more business than I was expecting.”
Elaine broke off a slice of pita bread and chewed thoughtfully. “Maybe you should go back. Try for the whole job. You know the work is there to be done.”
“What do you mean? Fred said…”
“Never mind Fred. Fred’s a jackass-I’ve always said so.” Joanna smiled. That was certainly true. “There’s a lot happening over there. Rumors are flying left, right and center all over town. That company is facing some major changes and if you want to do business with them you have to make some changes, too. So dump Fred. Go straight to his boss and make a pitch to him for the rest of your contract.”
Joanna sat back as the beaming young waiter arrived with a plate of steaming mussels. “That seems awfully disloyal to Fred.”
Elaine wrestled the tender meat out of its shell, “All you know is what Fred is saying. You don’t owe him anything. So if Fred isn’t telling you what you want to hear, find someone who will.”
“Maybe. I’ll have to think about it.”
“You do that.” Elaine bit happily into a mussel. “Heavenly.”
Their main courses arrived and the women tucked in with gusto. All the tension of the last few days slipped away as Joanna rolled a length of pasta onto her fork and speared a roasted red pepper. No more troubled teenagers, or far-too-sexy artists, or strange dark shadows.
They finished the meal discussing Joanna’s children, mutual friends and Elaine’s business adventures. When the waiter brought the dessert tray, Joanna regretfully refused. “I’ll never stay awake on the drive home.” As always, Elaine demurred loudly that she “couldn’t possibly” but soon relented and allowed herself to be talked into a huge slice of chocolate cheesecake.
Coffee was served in brightly colored giant cups with mismatched saucers: decaf for Elaine, regular for Joanna.
Watching her best friend sighing over a thick forkful of cheesecake, Joanna considered mentioning the sudden storm and the scratching noises and then the black appearance in the driveway. She was opening her mouth when Elaine pushed her dish back with a sigh and said, “I must tell you about the fiasco around this amazing fly-by-night mining firm. That people would actually buy into this half-baked adventure is beyond me.” She chattered happily for several minutes and then waved for the check.
The women slowly walked back toward the center of the city, Elaine to catch the subway, Joanna to get her car. While they were in the restaurant the brief taste of summer had disappeared and winter winds were back with a vengeance. Joanna was glad to be able to wrap her coat around her and pull up the hood.
The drive home was long and dark and tedious. Not long after one AM, Joanna gratefully turned into the road leading to her cabin. And none too soon-she was getting too tired to be driving.
The forest closed in all around her, the only light provided by her headlights as they cut a thin beam of illumination through the encircling blackness. Along the sides of the road a seemingly impenetrable barrier of dark trees stood, guarding the depths of the forest beyond. Naked branches with thick snow-covered fingers reached out into the road, some of the taller trees linked hands to form a canopy overhead, reducing the world to a compact little circle of Joanna, her car, the snow and the trees.
Joanna shivered; her imagination was getting the better of her. The car followed a bend in the road and the headlights caught the shape of a dark figure standing by the entrance to her driveway. Her heart leapt into her throat. He turned into the lights. It was Luke, holding up his hands to shield his eyes from the glare. She allowed her heart to settle back into her chest.
Joanna pulled up beside the old man and rolled down her window. “You really startled me, Luke. What on Earth are you doing out here in the middle of the night?”
Luke pulled off his cap and nodded, politely. “Evening, Joanna. Nice night, tonight.”
“But, what are you doing here?” Joanna repeated. “Does your brother know you’re up here?” She peered intently out the side window. Snow was falling thick and heavy. Her windshield wipers could barely keep up.
“Sure. Larry dropped me off before dinnertime to cut some wood up at Maude’s place. I had dinner with Maude, then walked over to my place to do some chores what needed doing.”
She was confused. “But no one is living at your place now. The house is gone. What sort of chores are there to do?”
“I was cleaning out the old barn,” he explained. “Been meaning to do that for years, just never had the time. Tonight seemed like a good night, is all.” He placed his cap back on his
head and stood upright. “Night, Joanna.”
“Wait, Luke. Would you like a ride somewhere? Can I drive you home? I mean, it can’t be too safe out here this late.”
The old man looked at her with an expression of bewilderment. “Not safe? I been walking these woods all hours of the day and night my whole life. Larry will be by soon, to pick me up. I’m just walking a bit up the road to meet him. Night.”
She watched as Luke walked off down the road. The dark forest swallowed him up and he was gone. An owl hooted and the trees rustled in the wind as if in answer. She gratefully turned the car into her driveway.
As the front door swung open to let her into the cabin a slip of paper fluttered lightly down to the ground. She picked up the note and moved over to the desk light to read. “Where are you?” it read in thick, childish scrawl. “I was here for my lesson. T.”
Joanna groaned. She had completely forgotten to tell Tiffany not to come today. Well, maybe forgot wasn’t entirely the correct word. After the confrontation in the North Ridge alley she didn’t think Tiffany would be back. She crumpled the note into a ball and tossed it into the wastepaper basket under her desk. No basketball player she: it missed and rolled into the corner.
The next morning she phoned Tiffany first thing to apologize for missing the lesson. Can’t afford to offend a paying customer.
“Why, isn’t Tiffany there with you?” Maude said, suddenly alarmed. “She told me that you said she could stay over last night because you were going to play computer games until late.”
“Oh, Maude,” Joanna said, “I am so sorry. I mentioned to her in passing that we would do that one Friday night and I would drive her home later. But I didn’t say what Friday night. And I wasn’t here yesterday. I had a business meeting in Toronto.”
“Then where can she be?” Maude’s voice was rising into hysteria.
“I’m sure there is no need to worry,” Joanna said, attempting to sound calm. “She probably just stayed over at a friend’s place. Why don’t you call all her friends and I’m sure you’ll find her.”