by Nancy Adams
Just then, Jess’s eyes were taken by something at the back of the crowd of children and her face instantly brightened. It was a disheveled Sam stumbling out of the house and onto the lawn, leaning on a cane that assisted his recently healed legs. He looked awful, but the little girl only saw her father in that moment and as soon as she did, she ran from Maud, through the crowd and into her father’s arms.
“DADDY!” she cried.
Sam wobbled and almost fell backwards with the sudden weight of his daughter. He smelled bad and this didn’t escape Jess.
“Daddy,” she whispered into his ear, “you need a bath. Maudy said you were ill, and you smell like it too.”
Sam smiled, picked her up, leaving his cane on the floor, and carried her gingerly back to the cake, a slight limp to him now since the accident. In his arms, Jess blew out her candles, being sure to make a wish, and everyone clapped, most of the children simply happy that they could now go back to the fun and games that surrounded them. Jess, meanwhile, sat in her father’s arms beaming a huge smile, her little white teeth showing to the whole world. She couldn’t have cared less about the fun and games or the freeloaders that surrounded her. What made her smile more than ever was having her father with her now.
Feeling the aching in his legs, Sam put Jess down and Maud brought him a chair. He sat himself down and gazed around at all the screaming children, the fresh air making him feel a little drunker than he’d felt down in the airless lab, a slight haziness to his vision. For the next minutes of the party Jess stayed close to her father, who remained seated, drinking water. It took him a long time to convince the girl to go and play.
“Go and enjoy your party,” Sam said to her as she held his arm. “I’ll be here watching. Go on.”
With a little encouragement from Maud, Jess ran off and joined the fun. When she had, Maud took a chair next to Sam.
“Thank you,” she said to him once she was seated.
“You shouldn't thank me,” Sam mumbled in reply. “It should be me who apologizes. I’ve lost myself lately, Maud.”
“I know you have, Sam,” she said softly, laying her hand warmly on his shoulder.
“I don’t know where I am at times.”
“You have to stay strong, if not for yourself, then for that little girl of yours. She’s lost one parent, she can’t lose another.”
“I know. After today, I promise to clean myself up and get it together.”
Just then, Sam’s phone went off in his pocket and he reached in to get it. When he saw the screen, it had ‘Calloway’ written on it.
“Johnny,” Sam exclaimed gently when he answered.
“I’m sorry to call you on your little girl’s birthday, Sam,” Calloway said in a solemn voice.
“What is it?”
“Well, I told you that there’d be a shitstorm from Bormann after you vetoed those military contracts for the guidance systems last month. Well, it’s just arrived and even I wasn’t expecting this.”
“What do you mean, Johnny?”
“Bormann’s just held a meeting with the board in which he and several members have suggested you be taken out of things for a six-month period while you recover from stress.”
“What do you mean ‘taken out’?”
“I mean you lose all input. Total suspension of your position on the board and as a majority shareholder—in other words, no more vetoing and no more decisions for the next six months. Bormann’s obviously pissed from losing the contract to the Chinese and he wants you out of things while he gets the company in with the military. He says that there’s plenty of evidence to suggest that you’re not in the right frame of mind to be involved in company decisions until you’re well enough.”
“What did the rest of the board say?”
“Well, over the last six months—as you know—Bormann has been wrangling as much support as possible and has a pretty strong backing. Only myself and two others really feel we can go against him. But obviously that’s not enough.”
“So the board voted in favor?”
“Yes, they did. However, that’s not to say it’s the end. I couldn’t fight it all the way, but I did manage to get a clause inserted into it. It took all my debating skills but I got them to agree for you to have a one-month visitation with a psychiatrist where you’d be evaluated. If the evaluation passes you, you won’t have to take the six-month break from all company affairs.”
“I gotta go see a shrink?” Sam exclaimed.
“No—the shrink comes to you. Basically they’ll stay with you at the Cliff Face and evaluate your state of mind. If they pass you, then this all goes away.”
“What happens if they don’t pass me?”
“Then the six-month evaluation period will commence and for that time you’ll have absolutely no say in the affairs of the company, even with your majority share.”
“Can’t I transfer my shares to someone else?”
“No. All trading on any of your shares—including you buying anymore—will be suspended pending the end of the evaluation period. It means that Bormann and his cronies will be free to buy up more of a commanding position within Techsoft while you’re out of the game. They’re trying to oust you, Sam.”
“Motherfuckers!” Sam exclaimed, making a small boy next to him jump with surprise.
Maud removed the boy and ushered some other children away from Sam as his face became graver by the second.
“I knew I couldn’t trust him,” Sam continued. “Only five months into his stewardship, he presented me with those fucking military contracts, came all the way out here to the reserve to try and charm me into it. I told him there and then that I wasn't interested in making bombs. I told him that Techsoft’s credos had always been in providing the military with better ordinance such as computer systems that helped them map areas and for their intelligence to run more streamlined. We make them more efficient in protecting themselves, but we don’t make killing machines. We save lives. We don’t end them. Final.”
“But that’s where the money is for Bormann,” John remarked.
“Techsoft software exists already in the military and most government services—except weapons. Two out of three offices in the whole world use our software. Three out of four home computers has our software. In the last two years we’ve branched out into smart pharmaceuticals. We have plenty of areas that we already control. We don’t need to guide missiles into schools or hospitals. Imagine when our tech gets into the wrong hands?—which it invariably always does. How will we feel then?”
“Look, Sam, I’m with you on this one, you know I am. But you gotta agree to seeing this psych for a month. Otherwise you’re on a six-month layoff straight away, and God knows what you’ll find when you come back to the company. I managed to get Bormann to agree to leave it as a board decision regarding who comes out to see you. I’m making a shortlist of psychiatrists to present tomorrow morning.”
“Who’s on it?” Sam asked.
“Mostly people that specialize in patients suffering from loss. I wanted to make sure that whoever it is that sees you understands the pain that you’ve gone through lately and doesn’t misdiagnose you. I’ve only got a couple of names on the list so far; no one you’d know. But what I really need from you, Sam, is for you to go on the charm offensive when the shrink arrives. We need to blow this out of the water. Especially as certain U.S military contracts are coming up and Bormann instinctively wants Techsoft in on them.”
Sam sat watching Jess play on the lawn with some other children, each of them armed with bubble guns, surrounded in a spiral cloud of colorful bubbles glinting in the sunshine. He let out a sigh.
“You still there, Sam?” Calloway asked after a second or two.
“Yeah, I’m here,” Sam groaned. “I’ll be good. Just let me know who you choose tomorrow. How long do I get once the decision is made?”
“We hope to have the shrink out to you in a week, depending on how soon they can come out.”
�
��Well then, I better get my shit in order. Speak soon, Johnny.”
With that, Sam put the phone down and continued to gaze out at his little girl.
They were trying to take his company away from him. The company that he’d started with Marya. First she had been taken from him and now Techsoft was being taken. The moment Sam had vetoed Bormann on the missile guidance system contracts, Bormann had begun to close a net around him. Sam wasn’t stupid; he knew that even if he was signed off as okay by the shrink, the fiendish CEO would instantly have another plan up his sleeve regarding Sam. He wouldn’t stop until Sam gave in and went along with him. Through Marya, Sam had always had the backing of the board who were loyal to his wife. But without her, they saw nothing but the cold genius. Sure he had a brain. But it wasn’t a business one. And for that, Bormann and his own huge business brain had the predominant support of the board.
Sam would simply have to duck and weave through the slings and arrows that were sure to come his way. A part of him welcomed the fight. But another shied away from it; recoiled in fact. And Sam wondered if he had the stomach to defy Bormann and his cronies. Out here in the Cliff Top he was isolated. He’d done that to himself. But that was when Marya was out there in L.A guiding everything for him.
Now it was different. Now he would have to take a hands-on role. After all, he was a member of the board, although he never went to meetings and always waved his right to vote; including this time when it directly involved himself. He realized that after this thing with the shrink was done, he would have to move to L.A and take back control of his company.
That was, of course, once he’d gotten past his upcoming month of therapy.
CHAPTER NINE
Claire sat up with her legs open, Paul supporting her shoulders, as she practiced breathing exercises with ten other equally pregnant women. Claire was attending her antenatal class and she was attending it with Paul. In the past five months he’d been true to his promise; he’d supported her through it all. This was the sixth class that he had been present at and not one moment had he missed of Claire’s pregnancy, sitting by her side the whole time, giving her the sole gift of a companion in this torrid time in her life.
“You’re doing great, birthing partner,” Paul whispered into her ear, making her giggle and thus ruining her breathing.
“Concentrate,” the instructor said, shooting the pair a quick glance.
“Thanks a lot, birthing partner,” Claire whispered up to him.
The rest of the class went like a breeze and after saying goodbye to all the others, Paul and Claire stepped out into the cold winter’s night and headed off to Paddy’s Diner. Being six months gone, Claire obviously looked pretty pregnant, a sizable mound bursting from her abdomen. It felt good to have Paul beside her as they walked the short distance through town to the diner, their arms interlinked as they chatted away. Every so often Claire would lean her head innocently on his shoulder and this would clearly thrill the young man. With Paul, she didn’t have to look on the pregnancy as a dirty secret. Every passerby would instantly think that the child was his and merely smile at the young couple.
As to them being a couple, it’s safe to say that they were very close, as would be obvious if you saw them together; Claire often leaned into Paul’s side and the latter would put his arm around her. But that’s not to say that comfortable physical contact makes a relationship. They hadn’t kissed and they certainly hadn’t been to bed. They were very close friends at this stage, that was all. Claire’s experiences with her first real love—Sam—had left her heart wilted and in need of respite. Paul could feel this pain in Claire and, being a truly chivalrous type of person, he respected it.
In regard to his own feelings, it has to be said that Paul was falling deeply in love with Claire. The poor guy had never before felt like this about anyone in his life, and each day he prayed that she felt the same. He was sure that he felt it from her sometimes, when she squeezed his hand in her own, or leaned her head on his shoulder and nestled herself into him while they watched a movie in her apartment. He thought about Claire constantly and spent as much time as possible around her place. Being at college, it was there that he did most of his studying, and Claire enjoyed this, feeling herself kept in touch with her studies through his. She would often read the same essays as Paul, the same textbooks, and they would frequently work on his assignments together. This was highly forbidden, of course, and enough to get him expelled indefinitely and end his medical career before it had even started. But he saw that Claire enjoyed studying with him. It took her mind off of things and brought them closer together. Cheating wasn’t the reason Paul let Claire help, it was much more innocent than that. It was to be near her.
A waitress opened the door for them as they reached Paddy’s and they exited the bitterly cold street into the warm family restaurant. The place was very busy and full of people. It was Friday night, and many of the tables were stacked with families, a Buddy Holly LP playing gently in the background, all the staff dressed in 1950s diner uniforms, many of them sporting the same haircuts as those of the famous decade. As Paul saw to their booking, Claire stood glancing from table to table, seeing all the families enjoying their evening out together. It filled her with a warm feeling and she instinctively wrapped her hands around her bulge, a smile pursing her lips. She imagined herself sitting surrounded by several children, a husband, ordering food, eating together, little smiling faces, warm joy permeating them all.
“Come on, Claire,” Paul said into her ear, snapping her out of her daydream. “They’re gonna show us our table.”
Claire smiled and followed the waitress with Paul until they reached a nice little table at the back were they had a view of the whole busy restaurant. Paul ordered a coke and Claire ordered a spring water. They were then left alone with their menus and each other.
“What you gonna order?” Claire asked Paul excitedly.
“I was thinking the steak,” Paul answered as he glared down at the menu.
“Can you guess what I’ll order?”
Paul peeked over his menu with a slight frown. He then closed his eyes, put down his menu and began rubbing his temples with his fingers.
“Mmmm,” he let out as he did. “My psychic powers tell me that you will be ordering the…prime rib with mashed potatoes and fried onions.”
“Bingo!” Claire exclaimed.
Paul opened his eyes and said, “God I’m good. I gotta take this psychic thing out there, do some shows, rake in some cash.”
“It also helps that the last seven times we’ve come to Paddy’s I’ve ordered the prime rib with mashed potatoes! That I’ve craved it for the last two months of my pregnancy.”
“That had nothing to do with it,” Paul let out with a playful frown. “I sat there rubbing my temples and it suddenly came to me. It was your voice in my head—as if your mind were talking directly to me—it whispered, ‘Prime rib, Paul! I’m going to order the prime rib!’ That’s when I opened my eyes and made the guess. It had nothing to do with any prior statistical data that I may or may not hold on you.”
Claire was giggling wildly at this point, and the sight of her so jovial made Paul smile. But Claire saw a spot of melancholy hidden in his smile. She felt Paul’s love for her, and this in turn broke into her own joy a little at that moment. You see, she wasn’t sure that she loved him back. Sure, she loved having him around. But it didn’t feel the same as it had with Sam. Then, it had been like an eruption. But with Paul it was more like he was a big brother looking after her. She loved him, but there wasn’t that same explosion as there’d been with Sam.
Having fooled around for a while, the two ordered, Paul sticking to the steak and Claire to the prime rib. As they waited for their food, they chatted lightheartedly. After that they ate with hearty stomachs and continued their carefree talk, chatting and giggling, sharing each other’s food. Once their main dishes were finished, they ordered dessert, and Paul watched with an inner glee as Claire tucked in
to her pecan pie and vanilla ice cream.
“What?” Claire said, having just finished a mouthful of pie and observing Paul’s grin.
“Sorry. It’s just…”
“It’s just, what?”
“You look so cute when you eat.”
Claire blushed gently and gave Paul a smile.
“I guess I should thank you,” she said. “No one’s ever complimented me on my eating before!”
“Well, they should have, Claire!” Paul said with mirth. “There should be modeling agencies out there looking for women like you who eat so beautifully. You should be the poster girl for restaurants, cooking channels, supermarkets. A supermodel with cake in her mouth! The world over should know the great eating queen, Claire Prior! I could be your agent. I take ten percent, of course. I’d give you my card, but you already have my number. You think about it and get in touch.”
“I will,” Claire replied with a grin as she took up another spoonful of pie.
Soon, it was time to go and Paul was helping Claire put her coat on. They stepped out into the cold, which now felt absolutely freezing when contrasted with the warm restaurant. Claire shivered and Paul instinctively took his own scarf off and wrapped it around Claire’s neck. She smiled at him as he did it.
“Thank you,” she let out. “I should have brought one myself.”
“Well it was lucky that I brought one myself. Anyway, I don’t really need it.”
“No. Why’s that? It’s really cold, Paul.”
“Us Bishops are known for our thick necks. Here,” he added, leaning toward Claire, “take a look for yourself.”
Grinning from ear to ear, Claire moved her hand gingerly forward to feel his neck.
“Come on, it’s okay,” Paul ushered her.
Claire pinched his neck lightly in her gloved hands.
“See,” Paul exclaimed.
“Yes, very thick,” Claire sniggered, looking around to see if anyone was watching the weird scene.