Unexpectedly, yet to no great surprise, the consummation was more successful than planned. Three weeks later Cindy discovered she was pregnant. Rob and Cindy were married at the end of tax season. They sold their two smaller houses and together with their kids moved into a larger home. The baby arrived early but healthy, bringing their collective brood total to five – all under age eleven. Once married and living under one roof, the couple still did not have the time or a place to be alone together – but they had each other.
The least complicated part of their lives was working for The Easton Company. They could go to work together, see each other during the day, and understand without question what the other person was dealing with on the job. Both were excellent accountants and enjoyed their careers. Even though Cindy and Rob were in the same division neither one reported to the other, so there was no required job change or department move when they got married. Cindy and Rob had excellent company benefits and by marrying they decreased the total cost of their health insurance, even with the addition of a new baby. Life was crazy, hectic and demanding, but life for Cindy and Rob was better than either had experienced before.
Five years later with their youngest child in nursery school, and their oldest just starting high school, Cindy and Rob were finally able to glance up from the demands of home, kids and work, and get out to a movie by themselves now and then. Optimistically, they had even restarted home delivery of a morning newspaper with the idea that they might at last have time to read one.
The entire family had just returned from a week at the beach. This was their first vacation where all the kids had gotten along well together. No one sulked. There were no major blow-ups, and they entertained each other with cards, games, impromptu excursions, and good old playing on the beach activities. The week had been full of laughter and silliness. Their miniature golf outing had been a huge success – the most fun and chaos the seven of them had ever experienced together as a group. No one whined about who got what color ball or who went first, and there was no trip to the local emergency room to stitch up one child’s forehead from another one’s unanticipated backswing. The kids had come home from vacation in good spirits and Cindy and Rob returned to work feeling less stressed than when they left. School would be starting up again in a few weeks. Life was feeling pretty good to Cindy and Rob.
The next Friday the company announced its plans to merge with Pratt-Miles. Fearful worry consumed Cindy and Rob. The possibility that both their jobs could be eliminated within days, weeks or months of each other put them in double jeopardy. Each began to search for a new employer. The stress level at work, at home, in the car, and in bed was off the charts.
On the rainy Friday the merger closed, Cindy was among the first group of Easton employees laid off by Pratt-Miles. She was summoned to meet with a Pratt-Miles representative she had never seen before who politely told her she should gather her personal belongings and be gone by the end of the workday. Her services were no longer needed. Then he collected her keys, codes, and her company swipe ID that provided after hours access into the headquarters building. No further explanation was given – no one seemed to think more information was necessary, even for a solid worker like Cindy who had been employed by The Easton Company since graduating from college.
Distraught, Cindy returned to her cubicle. Rob was not at his desk. The thought that he might also be asked to leave by the end of the day made her feel short of breath. So many emotions raced though her body and brain at the same time, she could hardly bear it. How is this happening? Why is this happening?Those thoughts kept looping though her consciousness as she sat at her desk trying to focus. How could she be expected to pack fifteen years of her work life into a cardboard box in ninety minutes?
Cindy was crying quietly and gathering the family photos and other office knick-knacks from her shelf when Rob returned to his desk on the other side of the open office space. He took one look at his wife and guessed what had happened. He was also aware that their personal life was playing out in front of many sets of watchful eyes in accounting. Rob dropped the files from his meeting onto his desk and quickly walked to his wife’s cubicle.
“You?” she looked at him and asked.
“No. Not yet anyway. Here, let’s walk out to the car so we can talk. I’ll carry that,” Rob said, picking up the box she had been filling.
Following a fifteen-minute conversation in the parking lot, Rob went back to his desk and Cindy headed across the street to Darwin’s where the merger party was getting underway. Rob told her he would meet her there within the hour.
She had downed multiple Molsons by the time Rob joined her at the bar. He sidled among the gathering crowd of Easton employees to stand next to Cindy, who had arrived early enough to snag a good seat. Looking around the room, clearly she was not the only one attempting to kill the pain of rejection by his new employer.
The good news was that Rob was still employed – at least for the moment. There was already talk of more layoffs coming before year-end, so the timeline on job security was anyone’s guess.
Rob ordered a beer. “I called the kids already and told them we’d be home later, but before bedtime. I gave Kelly permission to order pizza and put her in charge until we get home.”
“Good idea,” Cindy mumbled, her eyes glazed and staring off into space.
“Hey, you OK? I mean, you’re going to be OK, you know. You’ll find another job. Everything will all sort itself out eventually.” Rob draped his arm around her shoulder as he talked.
“Easy for you to say,” she answered with a definite edge to her voice.
“I know you’re angry…”
“And hurt, and confused, and pissed off, and shocked and a whole lot of other things I haven’t figured out yet.”
“And drunk?” Rob smiled at her.
Not anticipating Rob’s comment, Cindy got caught drinking and laughing at the same time.
“Not fair.” she finally managed, blotting her mouth after getting control of herself again.
“Look, I have to be honest with you here. I thought you would go first. After all, you got hired six years after I did.” Cindy gave her husband a look he was quite familiar with – the one that showed up along with many of her feminist observations.
“Oh, and what? You think they laid you off first because I’m a guy and you’re not?”
“More likely because you’re the higher paid breadwinner and I’m just the working wife.”
“Wait a minute. Am I getting blamed for this? How is this my fault? The good news is that as of right now at least one of us still has a job.”
Cindy and Rob each took another pull on their beers and surveyed the room, letting their emotions settle before continuing.
“No, not your fault,” Cindy said in a calmer voice. “But I’ve got some bad news for you.”
“What’s that?”
In a slow and measured tone Cindy replied, “I really hate your new employer,” and again Cindy melted into laughter. Rob couldn’t help but laugh with her.
“OK. My work here is done,” Cindy announced, sliding off the bar stool she’d been occupying.
“Wait. I was planning to have another beer and talk to some of the guys,” Rob replied.
“Not a problem. Take my seat. I’ll meet you at the car in a bit.”
“Where are you going?”
“Back to my desk. There’re a couple things I forgot to get.”
“Bad idea Cindy. Seriously, hold up. You can’t go back in. They made that clear. Anyway, you don’t have your swipe card anymore,” Rob pointed out as he reached for his second beer.
“True,” Cindy answered, “but I have yours,” she grinned, holding up his company ID and backing away from him toward the door.
“Hey. Bring that back. Anything you left I can get for you on Monday. I’m not kidding. You don’t want to get us both fired, do you?”
“Don’t worry. I promise I’ll behave. After fifteen years I need one las
t look around before I take my leave.”
“Meet me at the car in thirty minutes, Cindy.” He caught her eye and gave her a stern look. “And don’t get yourself killed crossing the street.”
Cindy threw her husband an air kiss and gave him a little wave with his swipe card as she left the bar.
Cindy entered the Easton building for the last time using her husband’s swipe at the back door so she wouldn’t need to pass the security guard at the front desk. Once inside, she stood for a minute and listened. The building was quiet. Ex-Easton employees had either gone home or decamped to Darwin’s. Pratt-Miles interlopers were already headed for the airport.
Cindy boarded the freight elevator at the back of the building and rode it to the top floor. Stepping out into the quiet darkness was eerie. The lights were already dimmed for the evening and the conference rooms and desks were all empty.
“What does this remind me of?” she kept asking herself. She wasn’t sure, but it definitely no longer felt like her workplace.
Using the wide-open stairs in the middle of the atrium, she continued to make a quick floor-by-floor tour as a final farewell to a place that had been her life for so long. When she reached her cubicle, she pulled out the bottom drawer of her desk as far as it would go. Then she leaned down and reached deep into the opening where she had long ago duct-taped a No. 10 envelope. Inside was $200 cash emergency money – an amount that had seemed like a small fortune when she put it there years ago right after she and Rob started dating. Also in the envelope was a condom two pack – just in case. Added to the envelope after discovering she was pregnant, Cindy recalled thinking that one conception at work was enough.
After slipping the envelope securely into her purse, Cindy stepped to the window overlooking the parking lot to see if Rob was waiting for her at the car. She was glad there was no sign of him yet. I have a few more minutes before I have to walk out the door, she thought. Although Rob wasn’t in the parking lot, she did notice the young weekend security guard was out there, leaning into a car window, apparently talking to friends.
Cindy retraced her steps to the center of the atrium where the space at the core of the building opened three stories above. You could stand there next to the stairs and look all the way up through the glass pyramids on the roof. It was a special place in the building – it was, after all, designed by an architectural genius.
Cindy stood in that spot looking up, her hands clutched to her chest and swaying slightly. Her eyes glistened with emotion. She recalled all the good things that had happened to her in this place, under this roof. Tears ran down her face. It didn’t seem so long ago that she was bringing the baby to work to show him off to friends and coworkers before returning from leave. The baby had gotten hungry and began crying before she could take him out to the car and feed him. She remembered how his cries had echoed when she walked through this open space. Now she was the one crying. She was crying the way women cry when they are intensely angry. With her fists and eyes clenched tight and tears streaming, Cindy screamed in the loudest voice she had ever used, “Damn you Jeffrey Elkins!”
A Toast to Ed
It was just past midnight and still drizzling when Ben, Jack, Rita, Liz and Patti tumbled out of Darwin’s.
“Who’s driving?” Jack asked the group.
“Whoever’s got the most years of service,” Rita replied.
“That would be me,” said Patti. “I worked at Easton for nineteen years and four months.”
“Maybe that should be whoever has the longest service and is the most sober,” Jack amended.
“Oh how soon they forget,” Ben added as they huddled under the pub’s awning. “I have nineteen years and six months, Liz. Don’t you recall I was on the interview panel when you were hired?” Ben pulled out his keys and the group headed for Ben’s Jeep Cherokee.
“So Liz – you sure you know where we’re going and how to get there?” Ben asked, his fingers on the ignition key as his passengers pulled their doors shut.
“Sure. I mean, I know how to get to the entrance, and it’s relatively small, so I’m certain we can find it if you actually have a flashlight,” Liz answered leaning forward from the back seat.
Rita opened the glove compartment and pulled out a large Maglite. She pushed the switch twice watching the torch flash on and off again. “Looks like we’re good in that department,” she noted.
“And in my handbag I’ve got the glasses Jack borrowed from the bar, along with the open bottle of Hennessy the bartender gave me, breaking God knows how many Virginia ABC laws,” Patti giggled.
“Yeah, you got the brandy and he got your phone number,” Rita chuckled. “Apparently he decided you were worth the risk.”
“He must have decided there was no chance you were an undercover cop,” Ben added.
“So are you okay to drive Ben?” Jack asked. “We can sit here for a bit and make Liz draw us a map in case she’s so drunk she falls asleep before we get there.”
“Am not,” Liz insisted in a defiant but slightly slurred voice.
“Yeah, I’m good,” Ben said starting the SUV. “Let’s go before it starts raining hard again or we get too tired and change our minds.”
Twenty minutes later Ben and the rest of the group stood in a semicircle around a marble headstone in a small cemetery. The rain had stopped but the sky was still overcast. The darkness was disrupted only by the diffused yellow beams from the fog lights on the parked Jeep and Ben’s flashlight sitting in the wet grass illuminating the grave marker.
“Okay, let’s do this,” said Jack in an uneasy voice.
“What’s wrong, Jack? Scared of ghosts?” Patti mewed.
“Not particularly. Although I have to admit this is a bit creepier than I anticipated. Actually, I’m more concerned about a police car gliding by and seeing lights in here. Given our alcohol consumption this evening, I doubt it would be a particularly pleasant encounter.”
“Understood,” answered Ben, as he reached into Patti’s large leather purse and started distributing glasses.
“I’ll do that,” Jack said, reaching over to take the Hennessy bottle from Patti’s less than steady hand. After pouring everyone a double, Jack faced the tombstone raising his glass and the others did the same. “To Ed!” Jack stated in a firm and steady voice that caught even him by surprise.
“To Ed!” the others echoed.
“Thanks, Ed,” Patti whispered. “It was a truly fine company.”
“To all those good years, Ed,” Ben raised his glass.
“To the good years!” the group caroled back.
“We’ll remember you, Ed – even though it’s not The Easton Company anymore…” Liz broke off with a sob.
As they drained their glasses the rain picked up again. Jack tipped the brandy bottle and poured the rest of its contents onto Ed Easton’s grave. “Truly glad you weren’t here to see it all end, Ed,” Jack mumbled as he nestled the sophisticated empty, label facing out, into the grass next to the headstone. The others were already making their way back to the Jeep. “A proud moment it’s not. But it was a damn good company while it lasted.” Jack picked up the flashlight and shone it on Ed Easton’s epitaph:
Dreams become reality when people believe and act together
The $2,300 Bar Tab
If the walls in Darwin’s Bar and Grille could talk, they could tell the oral history of Easton’s rise and fall. It would include the juiciest tales from The Easton Company story. Darwin’s had opened across the street within months after the first employees moved into Easton’s headquarters building – back in the days when there was nothing else across the street except graded mud, survey markers and the promise of a community yet to be built. At first out of necessity, and later owing to corporate culture and tradition, Darwin’s was the de facto company cafeteria for the lifespan of the corporation: the primary watering hole, lunch and dinner venue, offsite interview spot, corporate secret-sharing scene and rant-rage, gut-spilling location.
By 4:30 the crowd in Darwin’s back room was thick with new arrivals mixed with those whose blood alcohol levels already reflected a good three hours of drinking. No one was leaving. There was too much to discuss and rehash. Too much disbelief to wash away. In another setting or another locale the bartenders would have been more vigilant. But everyone in Darwin’s – customer and employee – knew this was the end of an era playing out. Car keys would be confiscated or voluntarily handed over before the night’s end; cabs would be called and rides would be given, but no one would be cut off or tossed out. Not even when the flaming tequilas were ordered just before midnight.
Long past the early rounds of limed Coronas and well into the throes of mojitos, lemondrops and chocolate martinis, someone thought to order a few trays of appetizers: dips and bites that provided no real sustenance for the growing crowd, just something to absorb a small portion of the alcohol and keep people on their feet.
Amazingly those in attendance in Darwin’s back room included a few well-liked members of the change in control group, a number of the remaining high-level executives, and dozens of Easton’s rank-and-file employees. With more than 150 people crammed into the private party venue, only a few souls thought to ask who was paying for all this.
As the night grew late and some partygoers attempted to pay and leave, the bartenders just shook their heads and smiled saying, “It’s been taken care of. Do you have a ride? Need a taxi?” But no one asked who was paying – too inebriated or grateful, they simply took the news at face value.
Pink Slips and Parting Gifts Page 16