The Art of Mentoring

by Shirley Peddy

  We moved from one office to another, with me doing most of the talking. As I conducted the tour, I noticed how their eyes moved from the pictures to each other in a wordless conspiratorial dialogue, and I wondered what they were thinking. Little was said beyond, “Oh, now that’s interesting,” or an inquiry, “So whose office is this, Rachel?” At the end of the tour we walked into the conference room and Lily sat down. So did the others. It was time for the inquisition.

  Lily admitted the offices looked very business-like but wondered if I was aware of the “situation with the walls,” and particularly that Altis had asked her to approve all pictures. I said I heard there was a process like that several years ago but thought it had probably expired by now. “Who told you that?” Lily wondered, pursing her lips. I changed the subject, apologizing if I had violated any company rules. Did she want us to take them all down? “No,” she responded with a weak smile. Actually she thought they looked rather nice but cautioned me about any further straying from the rules. She turned to the other two and they nodded their heads in unison. I thanked them for coming by, wished them a great weekend, and they departed to attend to other important matters.

  Before the end of the day, several people from Accounting had wandered by. No sooner had they left than I got a call from Ron Corbin, the Assistant Controller who had advised me about the money available for the project. He said he heard that our offices looked great and asked for the name and number of the art gallery and frame shop that had done the work. Drop a pebble into a still pond and just watch the ripples.

  Saturday morning I caught a plane back to Pembroke. Traveling was tough, but being away from Paul and Brad was much harder. On the way home from the airport, Paul brought me up to date on the saga of our young entrepreneur. He’d been at work less than a week, but his education curve was moving straight up. It was amazing what a resourceful young management trainee can learn after just a few days in captivity. His new found knowledge amounted to (1) customers can be very hard to please, (2) he didn’t want to spend the next six months cleaning restrooms, and (3) filling in for other people can wreak havoc on your love life. It seems that one person didn’t show up for work Friday night. Brad had to cancel a date with Nikki, and she was not happy.

  I was jubilant. Maybe this spelled the end of a promising career. I wondered if he was home, and Paul said he was and wanted to talk to us. My heart leaped up. Perhaps he was ready to go back to school. Paul put his arm around my shoulder. “Don’t depend on it,” he said. “It’s going to take more than a week in the gulag for Brad to get the message.”

  He was in his room when I arrived, getting ready for a tennis game. Billy and Chula gave me a high profile Chihuahua-style welcome, and Brad hugged me. “Back from the wars, Mom?” he asked.

  “Just a little R and R,” I responded with a smile. “I’ve missed you.”

  “Me too.”

  “How’s the job?”

  He signaled “so, so” with his right hand adding verbally, “I’ll have it wired in a few days. We just need to get personnel straightened out so I can quit the routine with yucky bathrooms. And they’re going to have to be more dependable too. Nikki says she won’t be so forgiving next time. I’m learning lots about management,” he added.

  “Oh?”

  “People can be hard to please, but if you smile a lot, they generally act better. We’ve got a few Grumpy Gusses on the cash registers. I’m going to work on them.”

  “Good for you. And what will happen if they don’t reform?”

  “They will. But that’s not what I wanted to talk with you and Dad about.”

  We looked at him expectantly.

  Leaving Home

  “Now don’t throw a fit, Mom, Dad.” I took a few deep breaths. “Pete Redfield and I want to move in together. Before you say ‘no’ let me tell you about it. It’s a small apartment above a garage just a couple of miles from here. It has one bedroom and room for a fold out couch in the living room, and it won’t cost much. They’re paying for gas and electricity.”

  I was silent. Paul spoke up. “When do you plan to move?” he asked.

  “Monday, but...” I had a picture of furniture being moved in, lights on, telephone installed. Sounded like a relaxing weekend.

  “But?” That was Paul.

  “I hate to ask, but I could use a little help.”

  “Help?” That was me.

  “We have to put up two months rent, put a deposit down for a telephone, and get a few essentials.” “A few essentials” turned out to be furniture, groceries, towels, and all those things it takes to start up a household.

  “Are you sure you want to do this, son?” asked Paul. “That could mean staying in this job for some time.” That prospect alone would have been enough to change my mind.

  “I’m positive, Dad. It’s time I got out on my own. I guess I’m going to need about $500, but I’ll pay it back. I promise.”

  Who could resist? Brad had known Pete since kindergarten. He informed us Pete was still attending Pembroke, the college from which Brad had so recently departed. Maybe he would influence our son to go back to school. There was another piece of good news. The apartment turned out to be behind a duplex owned by Robert Montoya, the director of Pembroke’s little theater. Montoya, a smart business man and a long time acquaintance, had agreed to let the boys move their furniture in over the weekend. He and his wife lived in one of the duplexes and two male college students leased the other. More good news. Being around college students might rub off on Brad. So I put my concerns aside, and Paul and I spent much of the weekend shopping with Brad and Pete.

  At first they insisted on shopping at Stanley’s, Oakville’s largest furniture store, but once they saw the prices, they were content to follow us around as we made purchases at the Salvation Army store and several garage sales. To the new household, Pete’s mom contributed cooking utensils and dishes (which I doubted would get much use), and I was able to supply sheets and towels and some accessories from our own extras. By Sunday, the place looked comfortable. However, when Pete brought in his stereo equipment, I wondered how long their arrangement would last before the Montoyas kicked them both out. There was enough potential volume to destroy the neighborhood.

  Then we got to matters of transportation. Brad had planned to bicycle to work, but I put my foot down. His working hours were too erratic for that. We would furnish a vehicle, Paul’s old truck, which was in very good condition, but he would have to pay for the insurance after this quarter. I hoped it wouldn’t come to that. If Brad would just go back to school...

  When Paul drove me back to the airport Sunday, I clung to him. “I hate to go,” I said. “I wish I could be here. I wish I could make him go back to school. It’s a long way to Houston and I miss you.”

  He smiled. “I miss you too. This moving out is a confidence builder for Brad. It’s part of growing up.” He saw my concern and added, “Don’t worry, Rach. We’ve been through worse than this. He’s a great kid, and...”

  I squeezed his hand. “I know. I believe in him too.” Then they called my plane.

  I know I got to work somehow Monday, but I’m not sure how. I was preoccupied with Brad and his immature choices. Somehow, magically, Alicia jarred me out of autopilot. “Rachel!” She stood at my door, a soda in one hand and a cup of tea in the other. “I’m excited. Do you have time to talk to me now.”

  She handed me the tea, and I motioned her to a seat. “This must be about your trip. Tell me about it.”

  Getting the “Star Treatment”

  “I’m going Wednesday morning bright and early. I’ll be in Pembroke at eleven, and, Rachel, they’re picking me up and driving me to Oakville. No busses or limos or anything. We’ll go to lunch and then tour the building, and I’m meeting with a couple of people and Mr. Grant and his wife are taking us out to dinner. Me! I mean, I can’t believe it.” Alicia was tapping rapidly to the rhythm of her words. I must have looked at her hands because, suddenly consciou
s of what she was doing, she stopped in mid tap. “Oh, sorry. Tomás finds this very annoying. It’s nervous energy.”

  I smiled. “It’s a shame to waste all that enthusiasm on a desk. But that sounds exciting. I know you’re going to get a lot out of this trip. It sounds like it’s going to be fun too. Be sure to tell everyone hello for me.”

  “I will. I just wanted to let you know I’m going to make sure nothing will fall through the cracks while I’m gone. Judy and I are getting together at ten. She’s going to cover for me, and if something comes up she can’t handle, I’m going to have a pager with me, so I can call her right back. She’s also going to round up a laptop with a modem for me to take. Won’t that be great! I’ll be able to transcribe notes at night and send messages to you and Judy. I’ll be back in the office first thing Monday.”

  “Sounds like you’re doing a thorough job planning for this. I like the idea of your having a laptop too because you’re likely to wind up with some programming help at PWE. Might I offer a suggestion?”

  “Sure.”

  “Alicia, one of the main reasons I was eager for you to go is to reduce your workload so you can do the things you enjoy. So please, don’t step up the pace. If you need to spend additional time at PWE or go back, that’s fine. Why don’t you take Monday off? I think you’re entitled to some comp time.”

  “I can’t. That’s putting too much pressure on Judy. You’re right, Rachel. I need to slow down. I know I like to run at things—Tomás says sometimes I’m like a freight train. I’ll take it easier. I promise. But I am excited. I’ll see you before I go. I’ll be here all day today and tomorrow.”

  “Good. Take off early tomorrow and rest a bit. I’m sure you’ll need to pack and spend some extra time with your family.”

  “I will, Rachel.” She looked at her watch. “I’ve got to go. There’s so much to do. Thanks for everything.” She stood up quickly and walked to the door.

  “You’re welcome,” I said to her retreating back, “and thanks for the tea.” All that energy wrapped up in one human being. Charlie had said Alicia was a gem and he was right. I thought back to a poet who wrote of someone “burning with a hard gemlike flame,” and I worried that Alicia too might burn out. As I took a couple of sips of the tea, my thoughts drifted from Alicia to Brad. I wondered how he was doing in his new apartment and if he were still happy with the job. I hoped not.

  “Off on one of those island trips, lady?”

  I jumped, but quickly regained my composure. “Sorry, Tom. I’m afraid I was thinking about my son, the hamburger king. What’s up?”

  “I know you were interested in how the plans for the Grand Tour are coming along and thought I’d bring you up to date.”

  “Please do.”

  Winning Approval

  Tom told me the informal meetings had gone well. The Marketers had decided to visit our “old” customers first with Katy covering San Antonio, Austin, and Houston. Tom and Justin would make Dallas-Ft.Worth, Tulsa, and Oklahoma City, and Stuart would go to New Orleans and Baton Rouge. Then for new business, Justin and Tom would travel to Mississippi (Tom’s territory) and Alabama (Justin’s territory); Katy would go to Florida and Stuart to Georgia. Tom anticipated the trips would take between four and six working days over two weeks. Preparation time was expected to take about a week with each of the marketers using that time to renew old contacts and make new ones.

  “Was everyone satisfied with this plan?”

  Tom grinned. “We dickered quite a bit. The only thing that was not up for negotiation was Georgia. Stuart insisted on going there.” Tom laughed. “I think Stu has designs on PWE,”

  I smiled. “So when is all this to take place?”

  “Old customers, next week. New customers the week after. The only question is, things have been pretty quiet over there in Altis’ corner. I’ve been delegated the task of checking on the feasibility of the project. Do you see any problemos with our proceeding?”

  “I don’t see any problem with visiting old customers, but before you all head into uncharted waters, let me check with Elroy Grant. TYH is in his division.”

  “So is there a reason you wouldn’t check with Altis? He’s still in charge, right?” (Oops! I almost slipped up. It wasn’t my place to announce Altis’ coming departure.) “Sure he is,” I said, “but I know Elroy a lot better. He is the best one to advise me how to proceed. I’ll get back to you as soon as I know for sure.” While Altis’ potential exit was not exactly a well-kept secret, it is the rule in most big companies to allow those announcements to be made within the normal framework—top down. (For those unfamiliar with corporate politics, my bit of subterfuge is not considered dishonest, but rather a part of “the code.”) However, true to form, my explanation appeared to satisfy Tom, although I guessed he saw right through it.

  When Tom left, I phoned Elroy. “I was going to call you,” he told me. He had heard Alicia was coming Wednesday and wanted to let me know they would take good care of her. In fact, Maggie and he had invited Bill Rosen and Joanne Jackson to join them at Kirkland’s for dinner Wednesday night. Bill and Joanne would handle Alicia’s two days in Oakville, seeing that she learned what she needed to know. “They’ve offered to do the royal tour since I won’t be in town Thursday and Friday,” he told me, “but don’t worry. She’s in our care until we put her back on the plane.” This information was delivered without pause. Just like Elroy. He had covered the pick up and the two days, and had put Alicia safely back on the plane without taking a breath. “Now for some other business,” he continued. “The clock is ticking. I want to get up there in the next three weeks. Altis needs to be sent off by the middle of November. This is getting perilously close to the holidays, and you know how I feel about that. Given what’s going on there, when’s the best time?”

  Now Elroy Grant knew he didn’t need my invitation—but I appreciated his asking.” I suggested the week of October 31. “I want you to meet Katy, Tom, Justin and Stuart. They won’t be here if you come any earlier,” I explained. “They are going on the road to see customers next week, and, with your approval, they’ll be soliciting new business in the South the following week. That’s something I wanted to ask you about. In light of the current president’s past position on new business, do you want me to sign off on week two of their trips, or should we wait until you’ve settled things here?”

  “What do you think?”

  “Morale is high and they are raring to go, so my vote is yes.”

  “Then let’s do it. No reason to wait. I’m glad to see a little action in Houston. Our Management Council met last week and discussed what to do with To Your Health, sell it or make it profitable. Believe it or not, by unanimous vote we decided to go for black ink.”

  “I’m glad to hear it.”

  “How about your Marketing people? Is Stuart Kennedy shaping up or...”

  “I’m not sure, Elroy. Let’s see how these trips go. They were his idea.”

  “Okay, the jury is still out on him. How does the place look now that you’ve got it redecorated?”

  I sighed. “More like home but no real substitute.”

  “Nothing is ever a real substitute,” said Elroy. “I like the way you’re handling things. I’m proud of you.” Elroy was a true mentor, not in any way a parent. He knew when to be encouraging and when to overlook my plaintive bid for sympathy. The discussion was over—for now.

  I headed for the coffee room. As I passed Judy’s desk, she looked up. “Rachel, I think you should know that Justin needs to see you. He’s come by twice and your door was closed. He waited around for a while then said he’d be back. Do you want me to call him and tell him you’re available?”

  “Thanks, Judy. I’ll see if he wants to talk now,” I said walking toward the coffee room. A cup of steaming tea in my hand, I headed toward Justin’s office. He was just leaving. “Oh, I’ve come at a bad time,” I said.

  “No,” he grinned. “I was just coming to see you. Have you got a f
ew minutes?”

  “I do,” I responded, sitting in a chair facing the newly purchased picture of snowy mountains with a Swiss chalet to the right. “I love your picture. It makes me want to head for Steamboat Springs.”

  “Do you ski?” asked Justin.

  “Not me. I’d love to look at the scenery with a warm cup of chocolate and a blazing fire. But that’s not what you wanted to talk about.”

  Asking for a Salary Increase

  “Maybe it is. Rachel, I need a raise,” he blurted out. “I don’t know if you are the one to handle it since you’re here for a short time, but if not, I could use some advice on how to get one.”

  “Justin, help me out. I’m not really sure I understand. You’re definitely in for the five percent we discussed based on your move into Marketing. I gather that’s not what we’re talking about.”

  “You know I’ve got a new baby. Everything is so expensive.”

  “I understand.”

  “Rachel, I’m not very good at this. I’m not sure how all this works, but I do know that Katy hasn’t been here as long as I have, and she’s making more than I am.”

  “Okay, now I understand.” (You may be wondering why I didn’t ask Justin how he learned about Katy’s salary. I knew it could have only come from one of three sources: Katy, Tom, or Stuart. I was sure then, as I am now, that it’s a mistake for supervisors to venture into espionage or look for someone to blame when they hear these disclosures, so I chose not to follow up on this one.)

  “I have a lot of respect for you,” continued Justin, “and if I’m out of line, I hope you’ll tell me, Rachel, but somehow it doesn’t seem fair.”

  “Justin, I can’t promise anything, but I will look into this and get back to you.”