| |
Nathan couldn’t remember the last time he’d interviewed for a new job. He’d forgotten how nerve wracking it could be. The distance created by the video conference did nothing to ease his tension and his leg jiggled uncontrollably. Thank goodness that giveaway tick was hidden from the camera’s view.
Larry Manganeta, his solid, bulky torso encased in a too tight sport jacket, had been joined by two people from other sales regions and one from human resources. Larry and the woman from human resources sat at a conference table, a wood-panelled wall behind them. Nathan had a feeling the other two members—each in their own offices in Calgary and Edmonton—were there strictly to satisfy policy, as neither said a word after being introduced.
The woman from human resources led the interview, following what seemed to be a generic, impersonal script. After half an hour, Larry interrupted her with brisk impatience, and his first question was the one Nathan had been waiting for.
“What do you consider your biggest success as an account executive for NIS?”
Here we go. “I recently closed a seven-figure deal with Mount Morgan Mining.” He didn’t bother to hide his satisfaction and pride.
Larry leaned into his camera, his dark eyes piercing, thick black hair sweeping away from a low forehead. “It’s done?”
“Signed on the dotted line yesterday.” Despite his recent and unexpected ambivalence regarding the promotion, Nathan would always remember the thrill of watching Allbright slash his signature across the final page.
“Well done.” Larry looked over his shoulder at the woman next to him. “As agreed?”
Her face pinched but she nodded. Larry turned back to the camera. “From the moment your CV hit my inbox, you have been my preferred candidate. When Melanie told me about the pitch you made to Mount Morgan, we decided to book your interview last to give you a chance to wrap that up. Since you have done so successfully, there is no reason not to move immediately to the next stage of the process.”
The hairs on the back of Nathan’s neck prickled and he drew air in through his nose.
“Nathan Spieth, how would you like to be the next Regional Sales Manager of Vancouver Island?”
––––––––
EVER SINCE LEARNING she needed a biopsy, Helen had carefully nurtured a kernel of positive thought. Many breast lumps were benign, after all, and she’d done her best to visualize that as an end result. But all her hovering doubts and worries came to the fore with the phone call she received after lunch on Friday.
Jamie and Sven were tucked away in the miniscule office at the back of the shop. They had taken to spending every minute without a client together, Sven’s gritty growl overriding Jamie’s lighter tones as they worked their way through the operation of the tattoo parlor.
Helen wanted to believe Jamie had come up with the perfect solution. But now, if she decided not to pursue ownership, she would have their disappointment to deal with as well. The weight of expectation already heavy on her shoulders grew with every passing moment.
Luckily, there was no one in the reception area when her cell phone rang, Dr. Chesley’s name lighting up the screen. Helen watched it as she might a rattlesnake, and flinched when it rang again. With dread trickling down her spine, she answered.
Instead of Shelagh’s calm tones, she was greeted by a preternaturally cheerful medical office assistant. “We’re hoping you can come in on Monday to discuss your biopsy.” She said the dreaded word as she probably said cotton candy or kitten or something else equally fluffy and sweet.
Helen’s immediate, desperate thought was I can’t wait until Monday. “Do you have the results back? Can’t you tell me over the phone?”
“Dr. Chesley would like to check the surgical site, make sure it is healing properly. Also, she prefers to have further discussions in person.”
“How about this afternoon? I can come right now.” Helen scanned the empty front room with sightless eyes. Sven would just have to lump it if she left.
“I’m afraid she’s unavailable. She’s in surgery with another patient. Normally she’s not in the office until eight on Monday, but she said she’d come in fifteen minutes early to meet you. Does that work?”
Lips numb, Helen gave a faint affirmative and disconnected the call.
She operated the rest of the afternoon on autopilot, greeting clients and taking payments with a forced and frozen smile. Thank goodness she wasn’t asked to do any tattooing—she probably would have scarred her clients for life, and not the way they'd intended.
Her every breath beat with a terrifying refrain.
I have cancer. I have cancer.
It was the only explanation she could think of for the delay. If the biopsy had been clear, surely Shelagh would have told her right away. She had to know how worried Helen was. But if it were bad news, she wouldn’t want to give that over the phone. That would be too harsh.
Like there was any way to soften the blow, Helen thought bitterly.
––––––––
AS NATHAN DROVE HOME Friday afternoon, raindrops spattered sporadically onto his windshield. Towering grey clouds loomed in the distance, filling the sky over the rolling hills to the west of the city. Maybe the weather forecasters would be right for once. They’d called for thunderstorms every day for a week, but none had materialized yet, and the scorching heat had yet to break.
He was passing a transport truck on the double-lane highway when the hands-free system showed an incoming call from Greg.
His sons knew his interview had been that morning and were probably wondering why he hadn’t contacted them as soon as it was over. Still reeling from the events of the day, Nathan’s instincts screamed he should talk with Helen before anyone else, but maybe his sons deserved to hear the news first.
He tapped the screen. “Have you been designated the family spokesperson, Greg?”
His son chuckled. “I guess so. I’m not sure why. Both Lorne and Lyle have more time than me, especially in July.” Wanda had passed on her green thumb to their middle child. Given the mild climate of Vancouver Island, Greg’s plant nursery was always active, but Nathan assumed things ramped up during the warmer months.
“Lyle’s probably pretty busy, too. Summer must be a high time for teaching surfing.” At least, he imagined so. A born and raised landlubber, he had no idea how the seasons might affect his son’s...career. Nathan squirmed at the gnawing feeling he was losing touch with his boys. He would have to fix that.
“Well, whatever the reason, I’m the one nominated. So—how did it go?”
The raindrops were heavy enough now Nathan had to turn on the windshield wipers. “They offered me the job.”
“Awesome!” Greg’s excitement pierced Nathan’s heart. “It will be so great to have you live here. The baby’s almost crawling, and you haven’t seen her since she was a newborn. Not to mention Lorne’s kids. He’s registering Little Lorne for hockey this fall.”
“It has been too long since I’ve seen you all, and I’m sorry about that. I will definitely make the time soon.” Nathan took a deep breath. “But I won’t be moving to the Island, Greg. I turned down the promotion. I’m staying in Prince George.”
––––––––
HELEN PACED BACK AND forth in front of the large window in her living room, worrying at a hangnail on her thumb. The skin tore.
“Damn. Ouch.” Blood welled and she hurried to the kitchen for a tissue, then back to the window to keep watch.
She needed to talk to Nathan. She only wished it were for a happier reason. The news she had to share made her queasy with fear and regret and sorrow.
I have to break it off with him. Her arms wrapped around her middle, the pain of her decision so visceral it threatened to burst out of her gut. It is the right thing to do.
Outside the window, the breeze was picking up. The leaves on the enormous elm on her front lawn fluttered, the lighter undersides flashing like glimpses of goldfish in a pond. Raindrops darkened the heat-baked asphalt to a shiny obsidian. Finally, Nathan’s SUV pulled into his driveway and disappeared into his garage.
If she hadn’t received the distressing phone call from Dr. Chesley’s office, she might have had more energy to spare to consider how his interview had gone. Not that it mattered. Whether he was leaving for Vancouver Island or not, she couldn’t ask him to go through everything her diagnosis would entail.
Which left her one option.
For a moment she wished their roles were reversed. Not that she wanted Nathan to have the cursed disease—god, no!—but if he did, she would have stood by him. Just like she’d done with Aaron, she would have made the time they had together as good as she could, no matter what the potential outcome.
Because she loved Nathan. God knows when that had happened, but it had, and she was as certain of her feelings for him as she’d ever been for Aaron.
Which was why she had to end what they had together now. She'd have to be brutal about it. Nathan was a kind, caring man with a deep streak of loyalty and when she told him she had cancer, he’d feel obligated to support her. She couldn’t do that to him. Couldn’t let him put his life on hold yet again. Especially when what they had was so new, so fragile. Their temporary, mutually beneficial arrangement would never survive what was coming.
Watching Aaron fade with each passing day had been excruciating, but she was grateful they'd been given the time to say goodbye. They’d spent hours looking through old photo albums and reminiscing about holidays and family vacations and the many, many joyful days they’d shared. Their decades of love and trust had made it possible for them to get through each day, a minute at a time.
She had accepted she wouldn’t have that with Nathan.
I have to do the right thing. For him. She stepped outside.