Don't Let Go

by Sheryl Wright

  “She did really hold her own! I was startled by the contrast between the run-in with Lou and this latest incident.”

  Marnie nodded. “Georgie has an appointment next Tuesday with the occupational therapist. It’s mostly speech therapy. I usually go with her but I think you should start taking her. It will give you a better insight into how she’s struggling and where she’s making progress.” She retrieved her pen and began clicking. “I’ll be honest with you. There is a lot of pressure to push Georgie out of the company. Not that we would, it’s just that…well, the annual general meeting is only a few months away. It would really make a difference if Georgie could stand up and explain her vision herself. She can do it with the engineers, but…”

  “But not so much with everyone else, or perhaps everyone not so enamored by the new Georgina DiNamico?”

  Marnie nodded, and walked her out of HR.

  Returning to her office, Tyler sat quietly before considering the directive Georgie had given her. Grabbing her tablet, she opened her email client list but before she sent out a flash text to everyone in engineering, she set up the survey app Georgie used to share ideas with her team. It was simple. She entered the fields she wanted to capture, posted the survey then sent an urgent email to the department. She gave them each thirty minutes to take up Georgie’s challenge.

  With that done she turned her attention to the next task. Just that morning, a dozen banker’s boxes had been unceremoniously dumped in her office. They contained items from annual reports to technical bulletins and everything in between. Tyler had begun to catalog the lot before shelving them in order. It only took her a moment to find what she was looking for. A hardcover book that had been published in the seventies: The Dynamic Marine Machines.

  Pulling the glossy volume off the shelf, she made herself comfortable on the new leather love seat. The couch, she learned, was one of the furnishings Georgie had ordered specifically for her. Chapter one had everything she needed to know. It told the story of how old Luigi DiNamico had come to America just after the First World War. A trained Fiat mechanic, Luigi had served in the Italian Red Cross driving an ambulance, right alongside an American writer he referred to as “Hemi.” Tyler doubted that it was actually Hemingway, but had to admire the old man’s gumption. The introductory chapter went on to describe the early days of DynaCraft boats and some of their famous buyers. Looking over a series of photos taken of various cedar strip runabouts, she had to admit that maybe old Luigi wasn’t as full of it as she suspected. A double page colorized picture from the thirties revealed a long sleek dual cockpit speedboat. Two Hollywood beauties waved from the rear bench. Up front, a ruggedly handsome Luigi DiNamico stood waving next to the operator, who did indeed look suspiciously like a young Ernest Hemingway. Flipping to the next page, she read the caption. “Lou DiNamico and Toronto Star reporter Ernest Hemingway take the first DynaCraft Lake Master for a spin! Circa 1920, Buffalo, New York.” Interesting! Tyler thumbed through the rest of the book, only stopping at the last chapter: “The Dynamic -Future.” Among the horsepower charts and engine diagrams were several more pictures of boats, motors and personnel. The second to last picture was a family shot. The now elderly and frail-looking Luigi DiNamico stood in front of a sailing yacht in dry dock. The caption listed the people beside him as his three children. Sure enough, beside the old guy stood Danny and Henry and Georgie. She had to take a closer look to realize the Georgina in the picture was not her Georgie but Georgie’s aunt.

  Examining the photo carefully, she admitted their looks were similar but not identical. She had to wonder about the woman who had once held the reins, ever so briefly, at DME. Flipping to the front page, she checked the Library of Congress catalog info. The book was a first edition; she doubted there were any others. It had been printed in 1979.

  A notice sounded from her tablet. Putting the book aside, Tyler returned to her desk to review the results of the challenge she had posted. Surprisingly, all the engineers had taken the survey. Scrolling through the results she smiled, wondering what Zoe would make of her response to Georgie’s directive to use her own judgment. It would certainly make their planned afternoon shopping venture interesting.

  As if reading her mind, Zoe breezed into her office asking breathlessly, “You ready?”

  “It’s a little early for lunch, don’t you think?”

  Zoe just grinned her most mischievous grin. She was wearing a multicolored print dress that screamed nightclub not office. She had already donned her winter boots, tall leather things with heels even Tyler wouldn’t risk. “Marnie wants us to give Georgie’s wardrobe the once-over. Boat season is just around the corner. If we don’t get her squared away now, we may not get a chance again for months and months.”

  “The boat season? It’s only December!”

  “Boat Show season, sorry about that. Everything kicks off right away, once the New Year rolls in. As for the rest of this month…well, I did warn you this is a family company.”

  “Every day!”

  Zoe laughed off the retort, waving at Tyler to follow. “Come on. How often do you get to rummage through someone else’s wardrobe?”

  Tyler had to admit this would be a first.

  * * *

  At precisely eleven thirty a.m., Georgie DiNamico turned on her cell phone and opened her email. It had long been her habit to work without disruption until eleven thirty, and while Marnie had made that rule the law at work, she could only control so much of the outside world. In response, she had insisted that Georgie make a habit of blocking out all distractions for as long as she could. Together they had set aside the entire morning, or at least until half-past eleven, as her dedicated research time. While Georgie always started long before eight, protecting her attention as she worked her way into her day was paramount in making sure she herself judged the time well spent. They could hold her calls and email, even turn off notifications, but she couldn’t prevent interruptions from certain family members. Whenever something interrupted her process, Georgie would head down to the machine shop and help her team with their roadblocks. It had proven to be the best way to put her back on track. That and a long walk with Maggie.

  Georgie slid into her desk chair, grumbling to herself as she tried to put the events of the morning into perspective. She couldn’t decide what bothered her more, the fact that Lou had assumed she would act inappropriately with an employee or Marnie laughing at the idea of Georgie proposing.

  “It could happen!” Openly sulking, even she had to admit it was a long shot. Marnie was always introducing her to women she would call good wife prospects and to be honest they were all very nice but…but who was she kidding. She couldn’t talk and chew gum at the same time. Hell, there were days when she couldn’t remember how to tie her shoes, although she never forgot certain basics: her name, who she was and where she was from. She could clearly recall the details of her life before the accident with surprising clarity. Even after that fateful period, her memory was highly functional. Her problems stemmed from an inability to understand why she remembered the way she did, as if those things she did recall were simply stories that had been told to her, not her own experiences. How could she explain that to someone or even communicate how much she cared when she wasn’t always certain of her own knowledge?

  As for Marnie’s prospect list, they were all very nice women but she knew them from the Yacht Club and in most cases that was the be-all and end-all to their world. She understood why Marnie considered them good candidates. They were all wifely types. The type of woman who can make a career of being the perfect spouse. Georgie even understood how attractive that could be, having someone to care for you, and it was exactly what turned her off to Marnie’s prospects. Care versus share. Having someone to take care of you sounded nice and all but it didn’t sound like much of a partnership. Having a wife would solve many things for Marnie but was that really a reason to get involved with someone? As lonely as she was, it didn’t sound right or fair.
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br />   Removing a leather-bound journal from the locked top drawer of her desk, she flipped it open. She wanted to get her thoughts down on paper. Moments of such clarity, whether personal or technical, where always more easily recorded on paper. It was a technique one of the doctors had introduced, explaining that she would be using a completely different set of neural pathways when writing about a thought as opposed to talking about it or even entering the exact same words on a keyboard. Finding a new page, she recorded the date, adding:

  I have been telling myself I don’t want a relationship because it wouldn’t be fair to my partner to assume the extra care I may one day need. Maybe that’s an excuse. I’m lucky to be alive. I’m lucky to have a great family. No matter what the future may bring, I’m financially sound and in a position to hire any assistance I need. So what’s really scaring me? Am I too old? Too broken? What if no one wants someone like me, no one but those Yacht Club social climbers?

  She could admit that helping Tyler with her chair had been an excuse to drop in and see how she was adjusting. Of course, she chided herself, a normal person would just ask how she was doing. Before she could berate herself more, an email popped up from Tyler. Putting the journal away and relocking the drawer, she clicked it open.

  Georgie had to admit her relief that Tyler hadn’t sent her notice that she quit. After Lou’s temper tantrum, she had been beside herself with anxiety over Tyler’s reaction. She couldn’t help but feel she had let her down. If only she was as fast with her mouth as she was with her hands. She had felt like she should have defended her from Lou, although the idea was ridiculous. Tyler was a grown woman who could stand up for herself. Still, it irked her to have failed to come to her defense. Of course, she would have, given enough time or if Lou were actually determined to carry his prejudicial assumptions forward. Then there was Marnie’s reaction over the entire thing.

  After Georgie and Maggie had spent some time in the machine shop working through some new ideas with the guys, she had presented herself to Marnie, prepared to explain herself and remove any blame Lou may have pressed on Tyler. What she didn’t expect was Marnie’s jovial attitude. Yes, stomping on their cousin Lou was always good for Marnie’s mood but the real joke had been squarely aimed at her. Which hurt more, the fact that her sister thought it was hilarious that her gaydar hadn’t pinged on Tyler? Or that Marnie believed someone like Tyler would never go out with the likes of her?

  She read through Tyler’s email, noting that all the engineers had taken up the shirt and tie challenge. Georgie ran the numbers through her head, quickly checking the order listed.

  Shirts – Men’s: 252

  Shirts – Women’s: 42

  Ties – Bow Ties: 4

  Ties – Neckties: 84

  Ties – Neck Scarves: 10

  The numbers looked good, even though the total ties was heavy two orders. Thinking about it, she realized that two of her female engineers had probably asked for neckties instead of those scarffy things. She couldn’t blame them. She could never figure out how to wear one of those and had to admire those women who could. Trying to concentrate on the email, Georgie was overwhelmed by the temptation to calculate the length of material needed to drape around Tyler’s shoulders one, two…

  Rereading the email, she stumbled at Tyler’s request. She would be placing orders for several items she and Zoe judged necessary to augment her wardrobe for the winter. Now was her one opportunity to voice her preferences. Georgie wasn’t upset that Tyler had asked or that she had demanded her immediate feedback. She was caught by simply being asked. How long had it been since someone asked for her opinion that didn’t involve a line of code or schematic drawing?

  She rested her fingers on the keyboard. This felt like a special occasion or maybe a test. Georgie loved tests. If Tyler wanted her input, she would give it to her but what exactly could she say. I like blue? No wonder Marnie and Zoe never asked about such things. Not willing to give up, she began tentatively before accelerating into a furious pace, needing to get everything down while she could. Once she did, she hit Send without rereading her entry. If she didn’t reread it, she reasoned with herself, she couldn’t change her mind.

  * * *

  Tyler read Georgie’s email while Zoe maneuvered through the downtown core. She was not a great driver, making it all the more difficult for Tyler to concentrate. Finally giving up, at least until they came to a full and complete stop, she turned her attention to Zoe. “By the way, nice wheels.”

  Zoe all but snorted as she impatiently maneuvered around a car waiting to turn. “This unwieldy bitch belongs to Georgie. Good thing you like it. It’s what you’ll be driving.”

  “What—wait! This is a Land Rover! A new Land Rover! You don’t actually expect me to drive this thing do you?”

  “If I can handle her, so can you.”

  “I’m not worried about handling her! What if someone hits me or…”

  “Relax,” Zoe soothed. “Georgie doesn’t care. ‘We’re insured’ is all she ever says. Here we are,” she announced, switched off the ignition and threw the driver’s door open. The immediate blare of a car horn made her pull the door back until the threatening vehicle passed. “See!” She offered her carelessness as proof positive of the SUV’s perceived ungainliness. “Let’s see Georgie’s tailor first, then we can grab some lunch. We’ll need the time to decide how to tackle this stupid shirt and tie business. Georgie and her bloody ideas!” she moaned as she yanked the shop door open.

  They were greeted with the sights of a high-class men’s haberdashery although it was obvious this particular outfitter had long adapted to female clients too. While one side of the shop was lined with men’s suits and mahogany shelves stocked with a rainbow of shirts, the opposite side mirrored the layout but was stocked with suits and shirts for female clientele. A set of three headless mannequins graced each side and delineated the proprietor’s idea of upscale casual, serious business attire and formal wear. Tyler was immediately drawn to the woman’s tuxedo on display. She knew she had the height and physique to pull it off, but wearing a tux did nothing for her. Tracing her fingers along the traditional rounded silk collar of the jacket, she could imagine Georgie looking very noble in the getup.

  “I don’t see the attraction,” Zoe scoffed from beside her. “Although you would look rather dashing!”

  “Not my thing either,” Tyler admitted, “but it would look gorgeous on Georgie.” That comment drove up Zoe’s eyebrows. “You’re the one who said she needed something formal to wear other than her dress uniform. You have to admit the emerald waistcoat is a perfect match to her eyes.”

  “You noticed her eyes? Should I be jealous?”

  “What—”

  A swarthy gentleman of indeterminate years shuffled into the showroom, arms stretched in greeting and with a genuine smile to match. “Zoe! My sweet girl. Is it that time of year already?”

  “You know it is, you wily old coot!”

  “This is how you talk to your dearest uncle?” The old tailor pulled her into a gentle hug before holding her out for examination. “You’re more beautiful every year and what’s this I hear, you’re working for my little Marnie?”

  “I am.” Zoe took the old man by the arm and steered him toward Tyler. “Uncle John, this is Tyler Marsh. She’s Georgie’s new right-hand man, er, woman, so to speak.”

  “Ah, the doctor who will be caring for the little namesake of my beloved Georgina!” he said, turning his eyes toward the ceiling and adding solemnly, “May she rest in peace.”

  Before Tyler could explain that she wasn’t that kind of doctor or ask what he was referring to, Zoe jumped in, challenging him, “Marnie’s been on the horn, hasn’t she?”

  He patted his chest pocket. “I already have the list. Would you like to see what I have chosen for our girl?”

  “Hardly.” Zoe waved him off. “Well, if that’s all set…”

  “Wait a sec,” Tyler interrupted, surprising the other two. Turning t
o the old tailor, she stuck out her hand. “Hello John, I’m Tyler and I have my own list from Georgie and I would very much like to see what you have already chosen. I also have something else to discuss. A rather large shirt order?”

  “Oh please! Tyler, you’re not taking Georgie seriously. Are you?”

  Shocked to learn that Zoe had no intention of following up on her boss’s directive, Tyler made a mental note about the refusal. “Georgie gave me detailed instructions. Instructions of which Marnie approved.”

  Zoe appeared momentarily stymied by that statement, while John, first hesitant—then pleased—offered his most gracious smile. “How about this. I’ll show you everything and then we’ll talk shirts?”

  Tyler smiled at the old man. “Sounds like a plan.”

  It took a little over two hours to completely update and augment Georgie’s annual clothing order, along with several additions, including the ladies’ tux complete with emerald green waistcoat. The shirt order that Zoe had been so negative about ended up being the easiest part. The app Tyler had used to gather the relevant details from the engineers had created a purchase list of sizes and numbers. Style and color were up to Tyler to decide. With old John’s help and surprising insights from Zoe, they chose two white shirts, two colored, and two denim as the gift set. The denim shirts would include custom embroidery above the left pocket, one with the DME emblem and one with the retro DynaCraft logo. For the ties and scarves, they chose one that looked suspiciously like a boarding school tie. The colors were a good match to the DME emblem and would work well with pretty much any clothing choice. As a bonus, it was available in all three styles: necktie, bow tie and neck scarf. That took care of one of the two ties Georgie had offered up in her impromptu milestone challenge.

  For the second tie, John suggested, “Perhaps something fun? Maybe a novelty pattern. I have one with little anchors or this one,” he offered, holding out a navy tie with white and powder blue sailboats.