“So Luke’s gone?” Isabella said that night as she and Norah shared a supper of spaghetti, salad and garlic toast.
Norah nodded and slurped down a long strand of pasta.
“What did he do and how did the professor know?”
“Well, what I didn’t know until today was that Carol Williams of the foundation had already called Stan when I talked to her. I thought her reasons for why we didn’t get the funding were vague, but I never suspected this.”
“This what?” Izzy said.
“It seems that Luke has a gambling problem himself. And a member of the foundation board had seen him in the casino.”
“What was the board member doing there?”
“Well, sweetie, not everyone who enters a casino is a gambling addict. For some people it’s just entertainment.”
“So Luke could have just been out for some entertainment,” Izzy reasoned.
“He could have, but the board member couldn’t help noticing that everyone seemed to know him—the dealers, the waitresses and others. The board member asked some questions and learned that Luke was indeed a regular—and that he occasionally lost a great deal of money.”
“I knew it,” Isabella crowed. “I never liked him. So then what happened?”
“Oh, Izzy, this is a man’s life, not some adventure show on television.”
“I know.” She pasted on a serious and concerned expression and concentrated on her dinner for a minute. Then she looked up, grinned and asked, “But what happened?”
“Carol told Stan that the foundation was willing to reconsider funding the program on one condition—that there be a full audit of the books and that Luke be replaced as head of the agency.”
“Fired?”
“Demoted.”
“But he’s gone.”
“He resigned.”
“So who’s going to head up the agency?”
“Stan will step in temporarily.”
Norah cleared the dishes.
“You could do it,” Izzy said quietly. “You’ve practically been doing it ever since Dr. Morrison left. Maybe you should go for it.”
Norah stood very still, her hands filled with dirty dishes. “Do you know what you’re suggesting?”
Izzy shrugged. “Hey, if God wants us all to be together something like a job is not going to stand in the way. You might as well be happy.”
Thank you, Norah whispered, casting her eyes heavenward and then she put the dishes in the sink and hugged Izzy. “Have I told you recently what a terrific kid you are?”
Izzy pulled away, but she was grinning. “Better let me do the dishes while you go dig up the old résumé, Mom.”
Norah went to the den and dug through a file drawer until she unearthed her résumé, badly in need of updating. After typing the information on the computer and staring at it for several minutes, she reached for the phone. But who would she call? If she called one of her coworkers or a peer at another nonprofit the word would be out that she was applying for the top post—or worse, that she was actively seeking another position. And for now all she was doing was taking a tentative first step just in case.
I could call Tom.
Norah dismissed the idea out of hand. Why Tom? What did he know of résumés?
He can look at it from the point of view of an employer.
True, but—
And he’s not going to spread the word that you might be out there looking or going for the top job. No one will know and you’ll still have the option of changing your mind.
Maybe. Norah played with the mouse, rolling the cursor over the screen, bringing up her e-mail. All spam.
Delete. Delete. I could probably find everything I need online, she reasoned.
Sure, but you’d still want somebody to look it over and besides you need to let Tom know that things seem to be back to normal with Izzy. After all, she’s the one who encouraged you to go for the job. Hopefully that’s a sign that she’s finally accepted the way things are.
Before she could change her mind, Norah typed up a message entitled “Good News,” attached her résumé—after working it over herself for half an hour, entered Tom’s e-mail address and hit Send.
Tom understood that he should be glad that Norah was finally recognizing her own worth. The fact was that the agency should have promoted her instead of hiring Luke, but she hadn’t applied. And the news that applying for the top job had been Isabella’s idea was good, right? So how come he felt this vague sense of disappointment? What was that about?
Maybe it was that she was moving forward with her life. And I’m not?
It was an unsettling idea. Tom had always believed that of the two of them, he was the one who had always had his eye on the future. In the early years the plans he’d made had been for the two of them and then after Isabella came along, he’d felt driven to secure a future for the three of them. But Norah had never shared that drive and they had argued often about his need to make sure that at least financially they had no worries.
“It’s the one thing I can control,” he’d told her.
“Why do you have to control anything?” she’d answered.
And now he couldn’t help admitting that while she had looked for work that had meaning and purpose for her, regardless of the pay, early on he had gotten into the habit of considering every career move from the standpoint of what it would mean financially. He wanted the best for his family—the best schools for his children, the best opportunities for travel and—
Tom leaned back and looked around his spacious office. The walls were covered with tastefully framed awards and plaques recognizing his contributions to various organizations in the community. Every one of them represented a business opportunity rather than the kind of altruism they might have illustrated if it had been Norah’s name on the certificate.
Beyond the solid Brazilian wood double doors stood a half dozen cubicles housing paralegals, administrative assistants and more staff to handle billing and research. Next door to either side of his office were the offices—almost as luxurious—of the attorneys he had taken on as partners. At the far end of a long hallway was the conference room, surrounded by frosted glass etched with the firm’s logo. Everything was a distinct marker of the incredible prosperity he had achieved starting with the day his divorce from Norah had become final and he had bought out his share of the firm and gone into practice for himself. Stung by the finality of the divorce and the feeling of failure that came along with it, he had needed to excel at something. He would show her. And by the time his anger and hurt had subsided into a dull bruise rather than the open wound it had been, working sixteen-hour days had become a lifestyle.
As he reviewed Norah’s employment history he saw his success for the hollow victory that it was. He glanced back at Norah’s résumé still posted on his computer screen. He knew her to be a woman who had joined the agency because she truly believed she could make a difference for the people the agency served. He knew her as a woman of ideas, who believed anything was possible. None of that came through in the abbreviated sentences that described her responsibilities in each position she’d held. As usual she was underselling herself. Tom turned on the tracker tool and began striking her passive words and adding his own. And as he did he rediscovered that sense of excitement and energy he and Norah had once shared as teenagers and then young adults when everything seemed possible. When the two of them had dreamed of making a real difference—of changing the world.
“Wow!” Norah said the next day when she called to thank him. “Who is this woman?”
She’s the girl who blew me away when we were the boy and girl next door back in Normal, Wisconsin. She’s the one who showed me that even kids from small farm towns can set the world on fire. She’s the woman who stole my heart and gave me a daughter who gives purpose to my life.
“It’s all true and you know it. If anything, I’ve understated some of it.”
“I doubt it,” Norah said and he could hear in her voice how pleased and flattered she was.
“Are you accusing me of bias?”
“Not at all. I am on my knees thanking you,” she said laughing. “If I decide to submit this the search committee is going to be superimpressed.”
“What do you mean ‘if’?”
“It’s just that Stan seems to be enjoying being back. He never was very high on the idea of retirement and—”
“So you think he might stay on?”
“The board is accepting résumés, but nothing’s going to happen until after the holidays. I just don’t want to be in competition with Stan.”
“Does he know you’re interested?” Tom felt a tug of irritation at Norah’s mentor. This was her time, her chance. Stan had had his.
“We really haven’t discussed it. Speaking of job changes, did Izzy tell you her friend MJ’s dad is being transferred. They’ll be moving the first of the year.”
“How’s she taking that?”
“Pretty well. The transfer is to Minneapolis, so she and MJ are already making plans to get together whenever Izzy comes to Wisconsin. I heard the two of them talking about some music camp in Wisconsin the other night. If I go for the job and get it, then maybe—”
Tom frowned. “If you think music camp is right for Bella, then she should go to music camp. We have the money for whatever Isabella needs, whether you decide to take the job or not, Norah.”
“I know,” she said softly. “I didn’t mean to sound like—I was just thinking out loud.”
“Norah? This going for the job? It isn’t about whether you’d be doing the best thing for Bella or competing with Stan. Do it—or don’t—for only one reason.”
“Because it’s best for me?” she said.
“That’s my girl,” he replied. “I’ve got an appointment. Tell Bella I’ll call her later to finalize travel plans.”
On the Wednesday before Christmas Norah drove Izzy to the airport. As further proof of her acceptance of the way things were, Isabella had made the final decision about the trip—she and Tom would travel to Hawaii as planned.
“But you promise to seriously think about us all meeting at the grands over springbreak?” Izzy asked on the drive to the airport.
“I promise to seriously think about it,” Norah replied. “You didn’t gift wrap anything that you’re carrying on, did you?” Norah focused on navigating the multiple lanes of the highway.
“Mother, this is not exactly my first flight. I do know the rules.”
“Just checking.” She switched lanes, waving to the driver who had opened a spot for her. They rode in silence, but Norah was glad to realize that it was not the strained silence of the last few weeks. This time it was comfortable—each of them gathering their thoughts as they looked ahead to the busy day before them.
“Are you going to submit your résumé today?” Izzy asked.
“Probably,” Norah hedged. “We’ll see.”
“Mom! Today’s the deadline. Do you want to end up working for another Luke?” She shuddered. “Yuck!”
Norah laughed. It was so good to have things back on track with her daughter.
As Norah parked in short-term near the departure terminal, Izzy was checking her phone for messages, then the weather. “Snowing in Wisconsin,” she announced. “Eighty and sunny in Hawaii.” She leaped from the car and started pulling her luggage from the trunk. A skycap hovered nearby.
“I’ve got it, thank you,” Izzy said politely as she rummaged through the pockets of her jeans until she came up with two single dollar bills. She handed them to the skycap and grinned. “But Merry Christmas!”
Norah could hardly wait to tell Tom what their daughter had done unprompted. When they reached security, she hugged Izzy hard. “Have a wonderful time and don’t worry about anything back here,” she instructed. “I’ll call you,” she shouted as Izzy disappeared down the concourse.
When she reached her office the message light on her phone was blinking madly. Norah dropped her purse on the desk along with the flat briefcase that contained—among other files—her résumé and application for the director’s position. She sat down and picked up the receiver, punching in the code for retrieving her messages.
“You have two messages. Message one sent at seven-twenty this morning.”
Norah frowned and pulled a notepad closer, prepared for the emergency a call at that early hour might indicate.
“Hi,” Tom said, his voice a little thick from sleep and no coffee. “Just wanted to wish you luck with the job thing. I know you won’t hear until after the New Year, but this is a big first step, Norah. Just remember, you deserve this and you are hands down the best candidate for this job no matter who else applies. I’ll call later so you know Bella arrived safely.”
Norah’s finger hovered over the number that would delete the message and move her forward to message number two. But then she slid her finger to a different key—the one that would save the message so she could listen to it again—listen to Tom believing in her again—and again.
“Message two sent at seven-sixteen this morning.”
At first there was silence, although Norah could hear voices in the background, muffled but urgent sounding as if the caller had a hand over the receiver. She turned up the volume and strained to hear. She pulled the notepad closer.
“Norah, this is Eleanor.”
Tom’s mother. Why was her ex-mother-in-law calling her?
“I called you at home but you and Isabella must have already left for the airport and I don’t have the number for her cell.”
What’s happened? Norah felt her heart skip a beat, then lurch into race mode.
“I’m here with your parents. Earle collapsed while shoveling snow this morning. The paramedics are taking him to the hospital now—possible heart attack. Irene is here with him and I’ll follow the ambulance with her. He’s conscious and—we’re going now, dear. The number at the hospital is—”
Norah waited, pen poised as Eleanor repeated the number someone in the background dictated.
“Everything will be fine,” Eleanor assured her. “We’ll call as soon as we know anything more.”
The recorded voice repeated instructions to follow to delete or save the message—twice. Finally Norah simply hung up the phone.
“Norah?”
Stan Morrison was standing at the entrance to her cubicle. She looked up at the man’s kind, weathered face and burst into tears. At the same time, her phone started to ring.
“Somebody get that,” Stan instructed as he knelt beside Norah’s chair, one hand hovering uncertainly around her shoulders. “What’s happened?”
Norah started to tell him, the words coming in between gulps of tears.
“It’s your husband,” Abby said quietly indicating Norah’s phone.
Stan lifted the receiver and handed it to Norah while everyone on the staff gathered around, uncertain of what they should do, but prepared to do anything they could.
“Norah? Mom just called. I’m on my way to the airport to meet Bella, but I’ve got my assistant working to put everything in place to get you there as soon as possible. Now listen to me.” He began rattling off a long list of instructions. Go home…pack…sending driver…airport….
“Tom?” Norah said, stopping him. “Bella’s going to be so upset. Will you come with her?”
“Oh, honey, where else would I go?”