Call Me Lydia

by MaryAnn Myers

  Tony’s car was in the parking lot when she pulled in, so after talking to the third-shift receptionist, she went looking for him. He wasn’t in secondary, shipping, maintenance, quality control, or the cafeteria, and everyone she asked said they hadn’t seen him in a while. She helped herself to some coffee and went up to the conference room. She found him there, asleep.

  He was leaning sideways in a chair, with one arm on the table as a pillow, his legs stretched out in front of him. As she tiptoed around him, he never even stirred.

  She sat down and sipped her coffee, fighting the urge to push his hair off his forehead, and couldn’t believe she hadn’t notices his eyelashes before, so long and dark. Probably because he was always glaring at her, she figured.

  When Tony jerked his hand, she held her breath. She didn’t want him to wake up, not yet. She ran her eyes down over his arms, amazed at their size. Also amazing was how much his beard had grown since she’s seen him last. For some reason, she found herself comparing him to Greg. They were complete opposites. Greg was blonde, athletically honed, and polished. Tony was dark, thickly muscled, and only now for the first time since meeting him, amiable…albeit asleep.

  She chuckled to herself, or so she thought. The sound woke him, and for a moment, he looked as if he was trying to remember where he was.

  “Good morning,” she said softly but cheerfully.

  Tony looked around the room and then squinted, trying to focus on the wall clock behind her. “What time is it?”

  “Five-thirty.”

  Tony focused on her now, but only briefly, then cleared his throat and stood up slowly, as if his legs were still asleep. “What are you doing here so early?” he asked. He sounded annoyed, and that annoyed her.

  “I couldn’t sleep. I kept having nightmares. You were in both of them.”

  Tony laughed, surprising her. She would have sworn he didn’t know how.

  “But I’ve had worse,” she said, laughing also. “A lot worse.”

  “Then I’ll try harder next time.”

  His smile was equally irresistible. “What about you?” Lydia asked. “What are you still doing here?”

  Tony rubbed his shoulder, stretching. “I got into something and didn’t want to leave. And then when Jack didn’t come in…”

  “Oh shit!”

  Tony smiled faintly, shaking his head. “Yeah, I know. I heard…finally.”

  Lydia put her coffee down, her hands starting to tremble. She didn’t want it to show. Too late, he noticed.

  “You did have a rough night, didn’t you?”

  Lydia wondered what would be worse, admitting to how she’d been putting herself to sleep lately, or admitting that his eyes and everything about him made her nervous. “One too many, I guess,” she said, with an exaggerated shake in her hand. “The last one did it.”

  Tony studied her for a moment, which made her even more nervous. Then he sat down and propped his elbow on the table and ran his fingers through his hair. “You won’t believe what I found out last night.”

  Lydia said, “What?” But what was unbelievable, was his civil tone. She’d fully expected him to respond irately to her firing Jack Cox.

  “The production doesn’t measure up.”

  Lydia’s eyes widened.

  “Yeah, my reaction too. That’s why…”

  “Wait. What are you saying?”

  Tony hesitated, studying her again. “I’m saying, the rate of production was so far off by mid-shift compared to what’s been logged, it’s ridiculous.”

  “You mean records aren’t accurate?”

  “I don’t know. It was just one night. And they ship the right amount of parts, so…”

  Then why make a big thing out of it, she was about to ask, but before she could open her mouth, Tony stood up and started toward the door. “I’ll be right back,” he said.

  “Wait! You can’t leave now! Where are you going?”

  “To the men’s room, if you don’t mind.”

  Lydia signed dramatically. “Go! But come right back.”

  “Time me,” he called over his shoulder. And time him she did. Twenty minutes passed.

  She decided to go for another cup of coffee, and on the way back, she saw him about halfway down the main aisle, working on a machine with two other men. She walked toward them to see what they were doing, but stopped short of the pool of grease surrounding them and observed unnoticed.

  One of the men was saying he thought the machine would have to be torn down completely, but apparently Tony didn’t agree. “Let’s just pull the head first,” he said. “Why fuck with the rest unless we have to.”

  “Want me to rack parts?” the other one asked, obviously the operator.

  Tony was bent sideways, looking up into the back of the machine. “No, you can help me. We can get a lot of this done before Bill comes in.”

  The man grumbled, looking anything but pleased, and Tony straightened up. “All right then, rack parts. But when the bitch upstairs wants to know why this machine’s down, I’m going to send her to see you.”

  “No way!” the man said. And they laughed.

  Lydia walked away, feeling sure it was time to get back to her kennel. Tony caught a glimpse of her as she started up the stairs. She grabbed her cigarettes in the conference room, lit one, and took a long drag. Then repeating to herself what she’d overheard, in a cloud of smoke, she mashed the cigarette in the ashtray, pulverizing it, and reached for the production records.

  She presumed Tony hadn’t had time to go through them, but soon found he had. Each sheet was full of his figures and notations. This too infuriated her. She grabbed the phone next, and was less than thrilled when Jan answered.

  “Yes, Miss Lydia?”

  “Miss Lydia?! Where in the hell did you get that?”

  “I’m s-s-sorry,” Jan stammered. “But when Betty phoned and you didn’t want me calling you Miss Merchant, I just thought…”

  “Christ, Jan! She’s been calling me that since I was a baby.”

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed.”

  Lydia rolled her eyes. “That’s not what I meant. I meant…” She trailed off. Why bother explaining. She was sure Jan would take offense no matter what she said anyway. “I’m going out for a while. I’ll buzz you when I get back.”

  Before leaving, she walked over to the window to see if Tony was still working on that machine. He was. She muttered a few obscenities and with that, stormed out.

  She stopped for breakfast and arrived at Mago a little after eight. Not surprisingly, Bob Miller saw her right away.

  “My, my…if you don’t look just like your mother,” he said, holding her hands away from her sides. “Just like her.”

  Lydia smiled, allowing him to kiss her on the cheek, and when he stepped back, knew he’d linger with another look. This ritual of his was all too familiar.

  “You’re a beautiful woman, Lydia. A beautiful woman.”

  Lydia managed a smile and a halfhearted thanks. “I should’ve called ahead, but…”

  “Nonsense. Please, sit down. How’s your father?”

  Lydia hesitated replying, waiting until she was seated comfortably and had lit a cigarette. “He’s fine. Just fine.”

  Bob stared at her breasts. “I’d heard he was doing so well.”

  Lydia didn’t answer at all this time and her silence forced him to look up.

  “But you say he’s fine now?”

  When she nodded, Bob sat down, smiling. “So, to what do I owe this visit?”

  Lydia hated the gleam in his eye, but hated the way he worked his mouth back and forth even more. It always put her in mind of a hungry man about to sit down to a holiday meal, women being the main course. “I’m here to talk to you about the contract we lost.”

  “The one we awarded to Forrester?”

  “That’s the one,” Lydia said, thinking, as if there were any other. “I’d like to know why we lost it. Originally I was under the impression
it was because we were underbid, but then…”

  “That is why you lost it,” Bob interrupted.

  “But how can that be, with the agreement you and Dad had?”

  Bob rocked in his chair. “I don’t know. I have to tell you it surprised the hell out of me when he came in with a firm price.”

  “What?”

  “When the bid came in, there was a note attached saying the price was firm. That it couldn’t be negotiated, due to additional costs or something. And Forrester came in lower.”

  Lydia looked away, swallowing. “Did you talk to my dad about this?”

  Bob was staring at her breasts again. “No, I wasn’t dealing with your dad this time around. It was some young fellow.”

  Lydia reached for her purse on the floor by the chair. “We’ve worked up another quotation. And while I know you’re busy, if you would take a look at it.” When she handed it to him, he purposely brushed the back of her hand, another habit of his she hated. “Dad and I went over it last night.”

  Bob laid it on the desk and started licking his chops again.

  “As you’ll see,” Lydia said. “We’ve lowered the price.”

  “I’ll give it consideration. Forrester’s on a trial with us, so you never know.”

  Lydia raised an eyebrow. “A trial?”

  Bob nodded. “We’ve had a tolerance problem with them in the past. My inspectors are going to go over the first shipment a hundred percent.”

  Lydia was starting to get some real strange feelings about all of this. “Do you remember who you dealt with at our plant?”

  Bob shook his head. “No, I don’t. I’m sorry.”

  Lydia lowered her eyes, thinking. “Um…if you could get back with me…”

  Bob smiled, motioning to the bid. “I’ll go over it today. Then perhaps we can meet for lunch.”

  Lydia nodded, smiling stiffly as she stood up. “Tell me, Bob. How much did we lose that bid by?”

  “Pennies, Lydia.”

  Keeping that stiff smile on her face was even harder now. “Wait a minute. Let me get this straight.” She drew a deep breath, looking him directly in the eyes. “We lost that contract to a company that can’t hold the tolerance, and for just pennies a part?”

  Bob scowled wisely. “Pennies count.”

  “Yeah, and so do good parts and handshakes.”

  Bob’s face reddened. “I’m sorry, Lydia. It was a hard decision. And if I may, your father’s mental state was a big factor. I’m sorry.”

  Lydia studied his eyes. Then to serve as her apology, she said, “I’m facing some hard decisions myself.”

  Bob leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. “If I can be of help in any way, you just let me know.”

  “Thank you, I appreciate that. And I appreciate you seeing me without an appointment. I can show myself out.”

  * * *

  Though preoccupied, Lydia had to laugh as she passed the picketers, who whistled, catcalled, and professed their love. But the frivolity of the moment ended when she turned into the parking lot and saw Tony’s car still there. She buzzed Reed as soon as she got to the conference room. “I need to see you right away,” she said.

  “Well, good morning to you too.”

  Lydia sighed. “A good morning, it’s not.”

  Silence, then, "I'll be right down." Five minutes later, he was sitting across from her. "You went to Mago already?"

  Lydia nodded, lighting a cigarette. "Dad and I went over it last night, and since I had time to kill..."

  "So what did he think?”

  "Who? Dad or Bob?"

  Reed smiled. "Both."

  "Well, Dad was impressed. Bob, who knows? He said he'd call."

  Reed thought she sounded skeptical. "Don't you think he will?"

  Lydia kind of chuckled. "Oh, he'll call. You can count on it."

  Reed started to ask what she meant by that, but she waved it off as unimportant. "Have you ever had any dealings with him?"

  "At Pantamanian, yes. I've never met him though."

  "He said we lost the contract for pennies a part."

  Reed frowned.

  "He also said someone over here retracted Dad's low-option bid."

  Reed shook his head. This was news to him. Lydia could see it in his eyes. "For years I guess, Dad's had the option to come in lower if need be, as much as ten percent."

  Reed conceded that with a nod. "It's referred to as a gentlemen's agreement."

  "Yeah," Lydia said. "Only Bob Miller's no gentleman. I've known him ever since I can remember. He was one of Dad's golf partners and used to come to the house often."

  Reed looked puzzled.

  "Let's just say he and Carlson come from the same school of perversion and let it go at that. What'd you think about this pennies thing?"

  Reed started to answer, but she continued "Pennies! And then he had the nerve to say he doubted the quality of parts he'd be getting. He gave them the order on a trial basis. Can you believe that?"

  "The pennies, no." Reed was positive. "It has to be more than that. But the trial, yes, because I know the quality of parts Forrester's been passing off lately."

  Lydia snuffed her cigarette out. "Have you had dealings with them?"

  Reed nodded. "I subcontracted a few jobs their way at Pantamanian and had nothing but trouble with them."

  "What about Mago? You do anything for them?"

  "Yes. A nipple adjuster."

  "Part of the assembly we run here?"

  Reed nodded. "It's the piece between the main release and the adjustment screw." He picked up a pen to demonstrate. "It balances the tension."

  "Are they still running them?"

  Reed shook his head.

  "Is Mago doing them in-house now?"

  "I don't know. It was a good size order, but a one-time run. Why? Why do you ask?"

  "Who knows?" Lydia said, shivering as she stood up and walked over to the window. "I'm just wondering if there's a connection, something tying this all together."

  Reed turned to look at her. "What do you mean?"

  "Had you run parts for Mago before that one job?"

  "No, why?"

  "I don' t know. It just seems funny. You get a one-time job, we lose a big contract, Forrester gets a gift..." she trailed off. "It doesn't make any sense, so there must be a connection."

  Reed smiled. "What kind of logic is that?"

  Lydia could have said, "The kind that comes from shiver­ing when a thought crosses your mind," but said instead, "It's not logic; it's just a feeling, a feeling that this is all related."

  "I don't see how," Reed said. "It's not like all the phases went to one contractor."

  "Yeah, but still, think about it. You know how these companies are always backstabbing each other. Come on, I've heard my dad talk about it for years."

  Reed had to agree with that. It was a fact. Tony came in then, covered with grease, reeking of sweat, and wiping his hands on a shop rag.

  "Well, it's fixed," he said.

  Lydia's eyes hardened instinctively. "Aren't you here a little late?"

  Tony turned, in no mood for this, and Reed stood up to play go-between, wondering what it was about Tony that obvi­ously brought out the worst in her. "What machine was down?"

  Tony shifted his weight; his legs were killing him. "The Acme. We had to pull the head."

  Reed touched his arm. "You look beat. Have you been here all night?"

  Tony nodded, smiling faintly. "Yeah, I planned to just start it for Bill," he said, yawning. "But his wife called in, so..."

  "Bill's not here?" Lydia asked.

  Tony forced himself to look at her, as if it was the hardest thing he ever had to do, and shook his head.

  "Did she say why he wasn't coming in?"

  Tony yawned again, rubbing the back of his neck, and stared down at the floor a moment. He was dead on his feet and not only couldn't think straight, but he probably could have fallen asleep standing up right about then. "I think she sai
d there was an illness in the family and that he'd be in tomorrow."

  "Perhaps if you had written the message down..."

  When Tony just stared at her, Reed stepped in again. "What time will you be back?"

  "About seven. That way I'll stay through third."

  Reed nodded appreciatively. But Lydia was unfazed by his dedication. Admirable or not, double shifts, tired, handy as hell and all…it was time he found out who the boss was.

  "Where did you work before you came here?" she asked.

  Tony looked at her as if she were crazy. "Can we get into this later? I'd like to go home and get some sleep if you don't mind."

  Lydia walked toward him, shaking her head. "I don't mind. I don't mind at all. I just want you to answer a few questions first. I mean, you've been here all night, what's one more minute? And seeing as you're too busy to write anything down..."

  Tony shook his head and turned to leave.

  "I want to know where you worked before you came here," Lydia insisted. "And I want to know now!"

  Tony shifted his weight, glaring at her, and answered through clenched teeth. "Forrester. I was their plant manager."

  Lydia stepped closer. "For how long?"

  "Seven years."

  "And before that?"

  Tony drew an even angrier breath. "Before that? State prison. And to answer your next question, five years."

  Lydia swallowed, stepping away from him without even realizing it, and Tony walked out. But not a second later, fury outweighed shock, and she started after him.

  Reed grabbed her arm. "Calm down before you pursue this. Please..."

  Lydia pulled free. "Oh great! Tell me this doesn't piss you off just a little!"

  "It doesn't! Why should it? So he was in prison once. He's out now. Doesn't that say something as well?"

  "Yeah! It says his time was up!"

  "Lydia….we need him here."

  “Why? What makes him so goddamned valuable?"

  Reed closed the door slowly, trying to control his own temper. He'd never known anyone this impossible. "The man does an excellent job. Why can't you see that?"

  "Christ, Reed. He worked for Forrester!"

  "So what! Everyone here has probably worked for a competitor at one time or another, including me. Where would you be if you fired us all?"