by Heather Gray
Ah. That made sense.
“Each of the bedrooms will be occupied by a tenant as determined by Samaritan’s Reach. The tenants can be graduates of the leadership program, current members of the program, or any mix thereof.”
Sam waved the papers. “This doesn’t change the fact that we can’t afford to make any long-term commitments right now. The funds for this…”
Jette stared him into silence. “You’ll see the rent listed on page two. How you choose to split it between the four tenants is your choice, but Skye’s wish is that whoever resides in the master bedroom pay a larger share than the other two men. Additionally, she stipulated that the first three months be rent-free. At the end of three months, Samaritan’s Reach can back out of the lease without penalty. If you stay, the rent you see listed will go into effect.”
“She can’t give us three months free. We’re not a…”
“What? Not a charity case? But Samaritan’s Reach is a charity, and you can’t deny someone’s attempt to be charitable toward it.”
Sam clenched his jaw. Why couldn’t Skye have called and told him all this herself?
“Each of the three living tenants — the ones occupying rooms rather than a garage — will be given the opportunity to work off part of their rent. For every hour they volunteer here at Samaritan’s Reach, Skye will reduce their individual portion of the rent by ten dollars. You’ll need to keep a sign-in sheet, of course, and make sure the men are being productive during that time. At the end of each month, you can fax or email a copy of the sign-in sheet. The discount will be applied to the following month’s rent.”
“Will the men be paying her directly, or will they be paying us?” All this talk was making him believe they might actually be around long enough for it to be an issue.
“Skye would appreciate it if you could coordinate that. It doesn’t matter if it’s cash, a single check, four checks, a check and three money orders, or rolls of pennies. She’d just like to receive the four payments together at one time.”
Sam skimmed over the papers. “She won’t return any of my calls.”
Jette bit her bottom lip, the first hint of indecision Sam had ever seen from her. “The Rainbow Girls are on your side. We’re doing what we can to help Samaritan’s Reach. And Skye’s a Rainbow Girl. She hasn’t forgotten that. She’s just…on sabbatical for a little while. I still believe she’ll come back.”
“Back to the town, to you all, or to me?”
“I don’t know yet.”
A short time later, Sam was watching Jette as she clickety-clacked her way toward the front of the property.
He’d seen Fern and Jette today, but neither was a replacement for the Rainbow Girl who held part of his heart. He missed her, and he didn’t even know any more if he had a right to.
CHAPTER 37
October
Two months had passed since Skye’s departure from Samaritan’s Reach.
As with every other day since, she battled the temptation to remember what it had felt like to be held in Sam’s arms.
She wasn’t ready to go there, though. Not yet. Some things needed to be settled first. Even then… She wasn’t convinced that her return to Rainbow Falls was the right thing for anyone.
The intercom in her office buzzed. Man, she was tired of that sound. “There’s someone here to see you, but he’s not on your calendar.”
Normally Charlotte would have just sent the person away if he wasn’t on her schedule. Something must be going on for her to ring though. Skye pushed the button on the antiquated intercom. “Who is it?”
Charlotte’s voice held more of a question than a statement. “He says he’s a pastor? Pastor Dennis Diangelo.”
Skye’s stomach twisted up. She gritted her teeth and spoke into the intercom. “Send him in.”
Her office door opened, and Pastor Dennis strode through. He was dressed in faded jeans and a wash-worn polo shirt. It made him look almost… human.
“Thank you for seeing me.”
Shaking his hand was out of the question, so Skye remained in her seat.
After an awkward moment, he settled into a chair, too. “I hoped that I could speak to you.”
“Isn’t that what you’re doing?” If her voice had been a tangible thing, he would have been bleeding from its razor-sharp edge.
“I’ve been thinking a lot lately about why God led me into ministry.”
He was smart enough not to ask her permission to continue. She’d have told him no.
“At first, I thought it was a penance. Or punishment. I thought God wanted me to atone for my sins.”
Some things could never be atoned for.
“It took me a while to figure out that Jesus had already atoned for my crimes and covered my debt in full.”
Not to Skye. The debt had not been paid to her.
“I needed to learn some things, though, and one of those things was about redemption. God doesn’t just save us from our past. He saves us to our future. He takes every bad, ugly, ungodly thing we did before we knew Him, and He redeems it. He turns it into something He can use for good.”
Pastor Dennis was a reminder of the worst day of her life. A living, breathing, slap-in-the-face-reminder of how she’d let her mother down. He wasn’t allowed to talk about redemption the way Sam did.
“I work with kids in a juvenile detention center over in Butte.”
Butte was two hours from Rainbow Falls in the best of weather. If nothing else, the man sitting before her was committed.
“I go every Thursday. And every week I tell those kids about who I used to be, about a woman who died because of it, about a girl who has no mother as a result, about the time I spent in prison, and about the Jesus who saved me.”
He owned it. He owned his past. That meant something… but what?
“You might think it gets old. Who’s crazy enough to relive their past over and over again when it’s the sort of past most people would rather forget?”
Skye couldn’t seem to stop reliving her past, either.
“The thing is, every time I tell that story, I’m reminded of how God transformed me. I couldn’t have done that on my own. No way. I might have felt guilty enough to call the cops when I found… when I found your mom. I would have gone back to dealing as soon as I got out of prison, though. By the end of my first week, I knew I’d go back to that life. It was the only thing I knew, the only way I’d ever have money in my pocket. When you’re in prison, you spend a lot of time thinking about the things you want but can’t have… and then almost as much time thinking about how to get those things.”
Skye’s hands fisted in her lap.
Pastor Dennis ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t mind talking about the past because, bad as it is, buried in the middle of the bombed-out rubble that was my life is the story of a savior who takes the ugliest parts of who we are and recreates them into something more beautiful than we can imagine, more beautiful than we deserve. The story of my past is the story of who Christ is and how He took my ugly, messed-up life and turned it into something useful. It’s not a work of art, but it’s sturdy and usable, something it wasn’t before.”
Could she honestly sit there and listen to him talk about a God who redeems, who turns drug dealers into pastors?
Before she could throw him out of her office, Pastor Dennis stood. “I got a ride with Miss Rebecca’s nephew’s best friend. He was coming down to Boise to pick his daughter up from college. I came because… Because I needed to tell you... I wanted you to see...” He let out a whooshing breath. “I have an idea what you think of me, and I can live with that. I deserve it. What you think of God, though… I wanted to tell you my story so you could see God at work in it. What you think of Him matters more than you realize. I blew it in the past. I messed up my life and hurt a lot of people. I don’t want you to be another casualty of my past choices.”
He nodded to her and let himself out of her office.
She was left staring at
the closed door.
Skye reached for the intercom box sitting on the desk, picked it up, and hurled it with all her strength. She wanted to relish in the sound of metal on wood as the box crashed into the door. Instead, it fell to the soft carpet three feet from her, tethered by the cords that gave it power and allowed it to do its job.
There was a message in there somewhere, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to hear it.
Maybe she was directing her anger at the wrong person. Or maybe anger was the altogether wrong emotion.
But wasn’t she justified?
Except, she’d been eaten up by guilt for so long. She hadn’t been angry then at the unknown drug dealer. She’d been angry at herself. It didn’t make sense to start blaming Pastor Dennis now. It was easy, and it might even be defensible, but that didn’t mean it was right.
Skye picked up the now-cracked intercom box and placed it on her desk.
She would need to think about the things Pastor Dennis had said, but not yet.
First things first. Today was the company picnic.
Skye made sure everyone was out of the office before she left. The corporate offices closed early on picnic day. Everyone from sales reps to accountants to janitors attended. This would be the first picnic since her grandparents’ death, and she hoped it was well-attended. She needed to be able to look these people in the face as she told them about their futures.
Skye circled the park complex a couple of times before finally finding a parking spot. It was for the best, too. By the time she climbed out of the car, her anger had cooled, and she was ready to face the people whose futures she held in her hands. She stood by her car and looked across the green expanse. The sprawling lawn of the park was packed with tables and chairs and clusters of people who ended up on the grass because the chairs were all taken.
Good. Everyone, or close to it, had come.
The air tasted of fear. She knew the taste because she was so familiar with it herself. This wasn’t her fear, though. It belonged to her employees. Virtually every person she interacted with mentioned how much they valued their job, that their family depended on their income, that they had a sick relative or a child in college.
Yeah. She knew fear, and it was palpable here today.
She needed to get her speech over with before the people’s fear grew. Fear fed by more fear would mutate into terror. She had experienced that, too.
Skye climbed the steps, nodded to the teenager running the soundboard, and picked up the microphone.
“Hi, everyone.”
The electronic squeal shot out across the gathered crowd. Thank goodness they were in an open space. It would have ricocheted back at her otherwise. Still, she winced along with every person present. Her speech was off to a rousing good start.
The teen at the soundboard played with a knob before giving her a thumbs-up.
She tried again. “Hi, everyone.”
Her voice carried out across the crowd without interference.
“I’m so glad you could all make it today.”
A smattering of applause met her words.
“That’s one of the things I like about Idaho. If you pick your day well, you can still have a picnic in October.”
Silence met her words.
Skye scanned her notes. She had several pages of remarks, but that wasn’t what these people were there for. She folded the papers and set them down on the stage by the base of the microphone stand.
“I have a lot I want to tell you, but I know you’re anxious to hear about my plans for Treasure Valley Chux, and I can’t blame you. Before I get into that, though, I want to first and foremost tell you how much I appreciate your hard work, your dedication, your acceptance of me both before and after my grandparents’ death, and the genuine goodness every single one of you has displayed to me time and time again in the years that I’ve known you.”
The applause was a little stronger this time.
“While I care deeply about each and every one of you, this company has never been in my heart. I don’t have a passion for the product, the industry, or for being a CEO. You all are depending on me to do right by you, and that’s not a responsibility I take lightly.”
Silence.
“I’m selling Treasure Valley Chux.”
Dead silence.
“I’m selling it to you. I’ve had all the paperwork drawn up to convert this company from privately owned to employee-owned. You all will be the ones making the decisions. The transfer of ownership will take a couple of months, and you all have a lot of work ahead of you, but once we get through this period of transition, Treasure Valley Chux will be owned by the people who work for it. You will be corporately responsible for the decisions, including the appointment of a new CEO, but the effort will be worth it because, at the end of the day, the profits will be split by you, too.”
More dead silence.
Then, just to the left of the crowd’s middle, Mike Hollingsworth stood. Mike worked on the manufacturing floor, and he always reminded Skye of a grizzly bear — tall, broad, hairy, and with a ferocious growl. He would have been head and shoulders above everyone else if they’d all been standing. With everyone else sitting, though, he was a giant among dwarves.
Mike started clapping with those mammoth mitts he called hands.
Then Lucia from sales stood and joined him.
Lisa, the office janitor.
Gerald Paulson, the Operations Director — and her recommendation for CEO should they ask her opinion — followed.
The rest of the employees rose as one, and Skye stood breathless on the stage.
Gerald made his way through the crowd and up to the platform. He took the mic from Skye’s frozen hands and waved everyone into silence. “Skye, I think I can speak for all of us when I say, ‘Thank you.’”
The applause roared to life again.
Gerald switched the mic off and leaned toward Skye. “This is for real? A done deal?”
“The employees have to vote on the terms. There may be things they decide to change, but yes.”
“What kind of terms?”
“Sale price, for one, but also the division of profit. My attorney and I drew up something we think is fair. We modeled it after similar successful arrangements other companies have made and that have been sustained long-term.”
“How much time are we talking about?”
“Three to six months, depending on how quickly everyone moves on this. If the employees stall out over any part of it, the process will drag out longer.”
Gerald waved the crowd back into silence as he clicked the mic back on. “The transition will take three to six months, and every single one of you will have a say in how we move forward and what direction we take. There will be items that will need to be voted on, and if you decide not to vote, it can drag things out longer. Check with Human Resources tomorrow to make sure the email address in your file is current and valid. Then expect to see information coming out to you via email beginning early next week.”
The crowd settled back into their seats as Gerald released the microphone back to Skye.
She looked out over the sprawling group of people. They had a lot of work ahead of them, but Skye wanted to dance in celebration for them. “Thank you, everyone, for being part of the Treasure Valley Chux family all these years and for welcoming me into the fold when I came along. Working with you has been an honor, and I know you’re going to do fabulous things. Now please, if you haven’t eaten yet, grab a plate and pile it high. Enjoy the dessert. Spend time together and start thinking about all the things you can do to help make this company — your company — better, stronger, and even more competitive than it already is.”
Skye shook what must have been her thousandth hand of the day.
Most everyone had left for home now. The catering crew was cleaning up and putting things away. Balloons were still scattered here and there, tied to chairs and tables. Streamers that had decorated the space hung limply from the surround
ing trees.
She sank into a plastic folding chair and thought about taking her heels off. Her feet hurt, and her toes felt like they’d been pinched within an inch of amputation. She’d gotten used to wearing tennis shoes during her time at Samaritan’s Reach. What would the next chapter of her life look like? Would it require strappy heels or lace-ups?
“Hey girl. Outstanding speech.” Tawny sprawled out in another nearby chair.
Jette was a bit more ladylike, but she pulled a plastic chair close and settled in as well. “You did good up there. These people are going to remember you for a long time.”
“So when are you coming home?” Tawny reached out with a sandal-clad foot and gave Skye’s chair a light shove.
“Rainbow Falls isn’t the same without you.” Jette was as understated as Tawny was obvious.
Skye gave up the fight and pulled her heels off. As she massaged her feet, she looked at the two friends she’d walked away from more than once. “You guys have turned this into a one-sided friendship. I’m not sure you get out of it nearly as much as I do.”
Tawny twirled a long lock of her hair. “You taught me to think about other people. You showed me how valuable life is. I wouldn’t have learned those lessons nearly as well without you.”
Jette lifted a sculpted eyebrow. “You don’t try to make me talk. It’s hard to find friends who are comfortable with silence.”
“What would I do if I came back to Rainbow Falls?”
Tawny shrugged. “Does it matter? Do you need a job? Don’t you have some huge inheritance to live on?”
Skye chuckled. “I think I’m supposed to be a productive citizen.”
Jette crossed her legs gracefully — no small feat in those flimsy chairs. “What will you do? You’ll live your life, and you’ll do it with friends. You’ll find your path, figure out what you want to do, and you’ll help the people you come into contact with. You have a lot to sort out, but you might as well come home and do it among friends, right? How is doing it all by yourself any better?”