At four thirty, Sherry poked her head in to Joel’s office. “Why don’t you and Zarah come to my house for dinner tonight? We haven’t had a family meal together since we came home. We’re overdue,” she said. “Besides, I need to spend time with my daughter-in-law if I’m going to get to know her.”
“Mom, I’m going to pass on the dinner offer.” His mind was too clouded. He had to get the cash from Zarah’s inheritance.
“All right, let’s make it another time then. Very soon, though. I really want to reach out to Zarah. This must be difficult for her, adjusting to a new husband, a new house, a new country, and a new culture. Wow, that’s a lot for anyone to handle, especially someone whose father is gravely ill.” Joel listened. The swirling thoughts were too many to share with his mother. “Let her know that I’m here for her.”
“Sure, I’ll do that,” Joel said, wanting to end the talk about Musar and push the uncertainty out. His mother left but Joel didn’t. Too much idle time left him drained. The merger was done, no work left to do on it. Clients were leaving in droves, no work there. His time in the office was in a state of paralysis, little to do, less to charge toward. Folding the companies into one was a challenge without the board’s backing, especially since DMI wouldn’t gain majority ownership of Harmonious Energy until after Musar’s death. Joel had managed to keep that detail hidden. Musar had to choose a side before Joel lost control.
Six thirty. Joel relaxed as best he could at the conference table in his office. The air of insecurity hovered like a blanket. A third straight night of working late in the office and it was only Thursday. He couldn’t rally the energy to go home, but didn’t want to stay in the building, where he would be constantly reminded of the dire situation, the cloud of failure. He had to get out of there, right now. A tank of gas and loads of time were waiting for him outside. He grabbed his suit jacket and left his office. He pushed the elevator button and waited for it to arrive. The door opened as he shifted the jacket on his shoulder. “Abigail,” he said, seeing her standing inside when the door opened. It was the first time he’d seen her since returning from India.
“Joel,” was the only word she said, and pushed past him.
“How have you been?” he asked as she came out of the elevator. She continued walking and he followed behind, more desperate for the fellowship than he wanted to admit.
“I’m just fine,” she said, slowing down but not quite stopping.
Abigail reminded him of a point in time when he was in control, when he wasn’t desperately waiting for something, anything to happen that would give him the edge, the one he’d clawed to earn. The one he deserved. A board of directors couldn’t rob him of his worth, his rightful place.
“I’ve been meaning to catch up with you. It’s been so long since we talked,” he said, letting the statement hover.
She slid a folder under his mother’s door without responding. Turning toward him she said, “How’s your wife?”
Joel pulled away. “She’s adjusting,” he said, unprepared to discuss Zarah. Actually, he wanted a clear evening, away from the stress of Musar, Zarah, and DMI.
“Well, good for her,” Abigail said, pushing past Joel again and heading back to the elevator.
“What are you doing for dinner?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” she said, pushing the button. “I’ll see what Don’s up to or I’ll grab something on the way home.” The elevator door opened. “Why? Are you inviting me over to meet your new wife?” She stepped into the elevator. Joel looked away. “That’s what I thought,” she said and let the door close.
He rubbed his palm across his forehead and braced the other hand on the wall next to the elevator. Alone. He could have gone to God, probably should have, but his anger blocked the desire. There was only one place he could go. He lifted his head, adjusted the suit jacket again, and tapped the elevator button. It was too late to reserve the corporate jet for the night. Chicago was four and a half hours if he drove with haste. There was a better idea. He dialed his phone, feeling relieved already. When she answered, he said, “Sheba, it’s me, and I need to see you, desperately.”
“Where and when?”
His renewed energy level was rising by the second. “I have a crazy request.”
“Share it with me.”
She was the one he needed. “I’m hopping on the road right now. I can be in Kalamazoo in about two hours. That’s halfway between here and Chicago. Are you free this evening and can your driver get you there in a few hours?”
“Sounds important.
“It is.”
“That’s all you had to say. Are you bringing your new bride with you so I can meet her?”
He took a long sigh. “No, I’m coming alone. I need a friend.”
“Then I’ll see you in a few hours.”
“Sheba, thank you, this means a lot to me.”
“There’s no need for thanks. See you soon.”
Joel exited the building, feeling lighter, less downtrodden, more alive. Sheba had that way with him. He thanked his lucky stars for her. Without Sheba, he would have been forced to go to God.
chapter
49
Thirty days had come and gone, with no progress one way or the other. Musar’s life was in limbo and with it floated the livelihood of DMI. Joel desperately wished there was a way to expedite the process but realized there wasn’t. Musar had to recover or pass away without assistance.
After a few hours of sleep, Joel walked into the library, located on the first floor, lined with herringbone leather floors. Abigail’s touch swirled around the house, in classy, but not overly obnoxious, ways. He missed their relationship. If times were different and his life had another purpose, they could have been great. No sense pining over fantasies. A path of disillusionment was his guide.
Zarah sat in the library under the midmorning light. She had been asleep when he got in the bed earlier. Apparently he was asleep when she got up. It had become their routine.
“Why don’t you turn the lights on,” he said as he entered the library.
“I don’t want to be any trouble,” she said in her slight Indian accent.
The tense air hovered. “I’m sorry for getting in so late last night or, should I say, so early this morning. He’d wanted to stay overnight but Sheba wouldn’t let him. “You were asleep by the time I got home.” Truth was, he found it increasingly difficult to rush home and have to spend time with a wife with whom he had little in common. The office was a circus. Home was tense. He had no solitude, except for his sporadic hops to Chicago and now Kalamazoo. Meeting midway worked well.
Looking at Zarah without frustration was difficult. She was a constant reminder of his precarious situation. Two lives, bound by grief. His gain was built on her loss. Without the passing of Musar, DMI was dead. If he didn’t get the money soon, the investors were going to rush in like vultures and pick the bones of DMI, one division at a time. His resentment simmered. He’d upheld his end of the deal, forfeited the West Coast, and married Zarah. Now it was time for Musar to honor his end and let go, complete the transition. Thinking of his father softened his heart. The agony was suppressed pretty well, but there were times when it bubbled to the surface. The situation wasn’t Zarah’s fault. “Have you eaten already?”
“I have not.”
Adjusting to American food was more of an ordeal than he planned. The cook was doing the best she could with making vegetarian Indian dishes. “If you want, we can go out to the Indian restaurant again. It’s late for breakfast, but we could catch an early lunch.” Her demeanor lit up.
“I would love to go.” She closed the book and delicately repositioned the scarf over her shoulder. “Will you have time to stay with me today?”
Joel didn’t mind going to the Indian restaurant again for the third time in a week. It wasn’t his favorite cuisine, but he could endure the lunch. It was better than watching Zarah mope around the house as she had during the first two weeks, with her e
nergy depleted from not being able to digest the kind of food he ate. Extending the time with her wasn’t on his schedule. He rolled his stiff neck around while remaining in the doorway, attempting to loosen the tension that was settling in. Each day he got closer to the ninety-day loan repayment date, his neck got a little stiffer. At this pace, his neck would be permanently locked in two months, similar to his fate if he didn’t get the investors’ money. “I need to check on your father today.” Her demeanor saddened. Thinking over his answer, he said, “Why don’t I get you a ticket to India? You can spend time with your father. I’m sure that he’d love to see you now that he’s out of the hospital.” Joel could unwind while she was gone, too. It was a win-win for both. He wished he’d suggested it sooner, getting excited at the proposition.
“I can’t go to India,” she said, sullen.
“Why can’t you?” he asked, determined to put her on a plane.
“A wife’s place is with her husband.”
“But your husband wants you to go. You can go with my blessing and stay as long as you like,” he said, becoming optimistic again.
“I don’t want to go unless you come with me.”
Joel’s burst of zeal evaporated and was instantly reinserted into his vat of despair, hopelessly struggling to break free. Partially accepting his situation, he acquiesced and said, “Let’s spend the afternoon together.”
He didn’t have a single idea of what they could do. Other than the marriage night in India, they had barely slept in the same bed, let alone broached the concept of intimacy. Time and interest hadn’t meshed. His energy was reserved for handling the last piece of DMI business, quickly paying off the investors.
His patience was thinning. The doctors had given Joel no indication of how long Musar would be in this frail state. No way to tell medically. Joel was perplexed at the turn of events. A month ago he was positioned to pay the loan off early. Thirty days later, he was clutching to hope, fully aware of the consequences associated with not paying on time.
chapter
50
Don pulled into the DMI parking lot, having met with the first client at 7:30 A.M. Two others followed. His routine was well established. At night he plowed through contracts and proposals and met with clients during the day. Like today, he’d pop into DMI for an hour to work with Abigail on the transition plan, although there was little movement with overthrowing Joel. Don kept trudging forward with the belief that he was in God’s plan. Why God chose him—that he didn’t know and didn’t harbor a need to find out. When the door opened for him to take over, he would be prepared.
For a split second, loneliness stopped by. He was caught off guard, being surrounded by those that he cared about. As he reflected on his situation, truth sailed in, too. Naledi was on one continent, Abigail on another. His heart hovered in the middle. God had a plan for his life when it came to DMI and LTI. He was absolutely certain. There had to be one for his personal life, too. The church mother had given him confirmation. It was the only source of relief he found credible.
Don entered the building and made his way to Abigail’s office. The door was wide open. “Knock, knock,” he said.
“Come on in,” Abigail said after swallowing a bite of her sandwich.
“That looks good,” he said.
“Here, you want half?” she offered, sliding the sandwich toward the edge of the desk as he approached.
“No, you go ahead. I’ll get something on the way to my next meeting.”
“You better take this.” She gave it one last push, as far as the sandwich would go without falling off the desk. “And don’t say I’ve never given you anything,” she said, giggling.
The gesture was a welcomed act of kindness. He was hungry and didn’t really have time to grab anything else. The surge of LTI business required his full dedication and more. He was working at maximum throttle. In the ideal scenario, he could merge DMI and LTI and take on the role as CEO under one corporate umbrella instead of being split across two locations. With his natural strength almost gone, the strain couldn’t last much longer. Don took the sandwich and a seat, shedding his stress.
“Hello,” Abigail sang. “Earth to Don, where are you, because your mind is definitely not here.”
“You know me pretty well,” he said. “I was thinking about DMI and LTI.”
“Must have been a lot of thinking, based on the expression on your face.”
“And I was thinking about Naledi, too.” Don took a huge bite.
Abigail opened her desk drawer abruptly and rummaged inside. “Oh, Naledi, how is she?” Abigail asked, sounding serious all of a sudden.
“Busy as ever. I have to give her a break. She’s putting in crazy hours to keep LTI afloat while I’m pounding the pavement here.”
“I’m glad she’s so helpful to you,” Abigail said with her voice softening to barely above a whisper.
“You have no idea.” Naledi swirled around his thoughts, drawing him away from the conversation.
“Sounds like you really miss her,” Abigail said without lifting her gaze toward him.
“Truthfully, I do. I’m going to see if she wants to come for a visit.”
That caused Abigail to lift her gaze. “Really, it’s that serious.”
“Depends on what you call serious. Naledi has been with me almost from the beginning of LTI. She has been a pillar.”
“I get that,” Abigail snapped. “It’s just that if she comes here, who’s going to handle your business over there?”
“Good question, but having her come for a visit isn’t strictly about business,” Don said. Abigail raised her gaze again. “She’s special to me, and I miss her.”
“I thought I was special to you.”
Don didn’t know what to say. Yet at the core of his relationship, friendship, or kinship with Abigail was honesty. Keeping quiet had once lost him a shot at her affection. Now he was airing on the side of honesty, with compassion. Lording his interest in Naledi over Abigail wasn’t his intention. He had to find the right balance between maintaining a high level of friendship and professionalism with Abigail to keep the business moving while letting life and love play out on its own terms. His phone rang. He answered, kind of glad for the interruption at a time when the relationship discussion was heating up.
“Hello, little brother, I bet you’re surprised to hear from me so soon.”
“Hang on,” Don told Tamara without saying her name. “Excuse me,” he told Abigail. He stepped into the hallway, holding the phone while he searched out an empty conference room. Once inside he resumed the conversation. “Two calls in one month, wonders never cease.”
“Can you believe it, and it’s not even your birthday,” Tamara said.
“Obviously I’m glad to hear from you, but I have to ask, is everything okay?”
“I’m fine. I’ve been thinking about the conversation we had last month. I’m seriously considering coming back.”
“That’s fantastic news.” Don sat on the edge of the table, overjoyed with the prospect of reuniting with his sister. It had been far too long. “You know Mother will be out of her mind with happiness.”
“Well, that’s why I’m calling. Did you present her with my proposal?”
Don had hoped Tamara wasn’t serious about the proposal. “I didn’t tell her yet. I wanted you to have time to think it over.”
“There’s nothing to think over. I am willing to come back to DMI with my stock. You can have it, no strings attached, but Mother has to give me space.”
Don had no rebuttal. What Tamara was asking was equivalent to Joel stepping down without a fight which just wasn’t going to happen. Madeline wasn’t going to walk away from her children, or DMI, or Detroit. He would be wasting precious breath by asking, but he couldn’t blatantly pass up the opportunity to close out the deal the easy way. “The U.S. is a big country. What if Mother took an extended vacation? Would that work?”
“How long and how far?”
�
�I don’t know,” he said, standing. “I’m not sure she’d agree to go, but I can ask.”
“Well, I’ve given you my terms. They are nonnegotiable. I really want to help you without tossing myself into an unbearable environment. I’m making a huge sacrifice if I come back. I’m giving up my solitude.”
Don could appreciate solitude. It was what he craved, what he had to have for survival when he first left DMI. “I’ll talk with Mother and see what I can do.”
“I don’t want to be difficult, especially with you, but I have to be smart, too.”
“I understand.”
“Just so we’re clear, I am willing to come back and take my rightful place in the company.”
“What are you going to do with the money and the condo Dad left for you in California?”
“I’m not sure. If I’m coming home, I guess everything is on the table, the condo, my inheritance, everything.”
“That’s a surprise. You didn’t seem interested before.” Don had to wonder if perhaps Tamara’s money had run out or was close to running out, prompting her to come back. He was suspicious but had already asked once if she needed money. She’d said no and he wouldn’t bug her again.
“You really did get me thinking. After all, I am the oldest living child. I should show more leadership.”
Don reflected on Tamara’s request long after the call had terminated. He was encouraged by the progress in one area and plagued by setbacks in others. He sat for a while, no longer able to take the mounting sense of longing. He dialed Cape Town, hoping to catch Naledi. The phone rang and rang with no answer. It was just after five P.M. for her. He quickly dialed her mobile number without having to look it up. Two rings and her soothing voice was on the line with the hypnotic effect he was seeking.
“What’s your schedule look like over the next week? Would you like to meet me here in Michigan?”
“I’d be honored to meet you. How soon would you like for me to travel?”
He heard the enthusiasm, which could easily be confused with passion. “Come as soon as you possibly can.” He wished the superfast Concorde was still in business. Anything more than two seconds was too long. He wanted her, no, needed her in town this very moment. The inspiration and dedication was the shot of energy he desired and would have as soon as the travel agency got the reservations confirmed. His muse was on her way and he couldn’t be more content.
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