Читать книгу Married Or Not? - Brenda Jackson - Страница 7
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If Sherri Masterson had had a crystal ball when she woke up that Friday morning in the middle of May, she would have turned off the alarm and stayed in bed. Instead, she followed her usual routine. She got up and showered at the apartment she shared with Joan Price, who was a schoolteacher. The automatic coffeemaker had her morning beverage waiting for her when she walked into the kitchen. She read the paper, nibbled on a piece of toast and drank her coffee before leaving for work.
Sherri loved her job as a technical writer. She worked in Austin, Texas, with a bunch of brilliant geeks who dreamed up new software for consumers. It was her job to translate computer-speak into plain, everyday language, so that a computer user would have no trouble understanding what the software had to offer and how to use it. She’d worked for New Ideas, Inc., for three years.
When she arrived at the office everyone she met was discussing plans for the weekend.
Her plans were the same every week: do her grocery shopping, take clothes to the dry cleaners and pick up last week’s and return home to wash a week’s accumulation of clothes, towels and bed linens.
Saturday was the big night of her week when she and her cat would curl up in front of the television and watch a movie rented from Netflix.
She looked forward to her weekends so that she could kick back and enjoy her time off. She wasn’t interested in dating, which she had trouble getting across to Joan, who was always trying to fix her up with someone: a fellow teacher, a friend of a friend, even one of the single coaches at her high school.
Sherri wanted none of it: the dating, the possibility of falling in love…again. Getting her heart broken…again. Been there. Done that. Barely survived the aftermath.
However, the point was, she had survived. It seemed to be Sherri’s lot in life to lose the people she loved and depended upon. She’d discovered that, despite the poet’s comment, it was better not to love at all than to love and lose.
Sherri had learned that life could be unspeakably cruel three weeks before her fourteenth birthday when she’d been told that the plane carrying her parents home from Greece had crashed.
She’d been staying with her aunt Melanie at the time, and was eager to see her parents again, looking forward to enjoying their photos and, of course, presents and souvenirs they had picked up for her.
She’d talked to her mom every day and lived vicariously through the descriptions of their travels. It had been the first vacation they’d taken on their own. Aunt Melanie had teased them about taking a second honeymoon since they hadn’t been able to go anywhere right after their wedding.
When her aunt told her about the crash, Sherri refused to believe that her parents were gone. She’d spoken to them earlier that day. They’d missed her as much as she missed them and finally the separation would be over.
The message must have been wrong. It had to be wrong.
But the crash was covered by all the news networks because the majority of the passengers were Americans and no one survived.
Sherri had little memory of attending the memorial service. Only vignettes of scenes had stayed with her. Her mother’s best friend holding her and crying while Sherri stood there, dry eyed. The display of photographs of her parents that her aunt had put together. Her dad’s boss telling her aunt that her father had substantial life insurance and a pension plan and that he didn’t want Melanie or Sherri to worry about finances.
As though money could begin to replace what she had lost.
She’d been so angry…at everyone: classes that had prevented her from going with her parents, the airline for allowing the plane to crash, and especially her mom and dad for dying and leaving her on her own. She had wished she’d been with them. At least they would all have been together.
Sherri had watched as her home, most of the furniture and furnishings and both cars were sold. She’d told her aunt she didn’t want anything from the house, but Melanie knew better and had saved many of the personal belongings that Sherri later came to treasure.
Sherri eventually worked through her grief, but at a price. She learned to keep people at a distance and to refuse offers of help, because depending on others who might leave her was too painful to contemplate. If she didn’t let anyone too close, she didn’t have to suffer the possibility of enduring another debilitating loss.
She had learned to survive whatever life threw at her without whining and to make tough choices, even if there was a price to pay. Her one attempt, after she’d become an adult, to allow herself to get close to someone had turned out to be a disaster.
Now Sherri concentrated on being an exceptional technical writer and was happy to forgo the painful pleasures of a relationship.
She was engrossed in finishing the technical manual she was working on—the one that had to be at the printer next week—when she heard that her boss, Brad Horton, had called a meeting for ten o’clock that morning.
Nobody seemed to know why. They generally had their meetings on Mondays. She looked at the manuscript with yearning. She was so close to finishing. With any luck the meeting would be short and she could spend the rest of the day finishing and polishing her work.
When she arrived in the conference room, there were fifteen other employees there. Why would Brad call a meeting for a few of them and not the entire work force? Was there some kind of rewards announcement he planned to make?
Sherri looked around the room. There were people from her department as well as from other sections of the company. Maybe all their hard work had paid off. Maybe Brad planned to give them midyear bonuses.
Yeah, right.
None of them had any idea why they were there and the room was buzzing when Brad strode into the room.
“Thank you for being here,” he began, his hands clasped behind his back. “As you know, we’ve been having difficulty meeting our quarterly sales projections. Management has spent considerable time and effort to come up with a solution and we have had to face the reality that the best thing for the company is to lay off some of our employees.”
A collective gasp swept the room. Sherri’s heart stopped before it began to race. Was he talking about her? She glanced around the table and saw that everyone was looking at him in various degrees of shock.
“I want you to know that none of this has anything to do with your performances,” he continued to say as her heart sank. “Each and every one of you is excellent at what you do. It’s just that we’re being forced to cut costs and unfortunately, this is the only way we can do it.”
She was horrified. And embarrassed. No matter how Brad phrased it, each of them was being fired.
Sherri struggled to come to grips with the whole idea. She had never been fired before. Sherri had always received praise for the work she did. Why would they choose to let her go? She understood the economics, but why was she one of the employees chosen to be laid off?
Her thoughts were bouncing around in her head and she broke out in a cold sweat. What was she going to do? How was she going to face Joan and tell her she’d lost her job? The reason Joan had asked Sherri to be her roommate was because the rent was too much for Joan by herself.
“To make the transition a little easier for each of you…” Brad continued. Sherri forced herself to listen. She had to concentrate. She couldn’t display her despair in front of everyone. “…you will each receive a check for two weeks’salary and any vacation leave you have coming.
“You’re talented people. Remember that. This is strictly a business decision.”
He looked around the room. “Any questions?”
No one spoke. Finally Sherri raised her hand.
“Yes, Sherri?”
“Uh, Brad, you know the manual I’ve been working on? I’ve been getting it ready for the printers next week. Do you want me to finish it before I leave?”
He shook his head. “I appreciate your offer, but no. We’ll have to deal with this without you.” He looked around the room. “Any others?”
No one said anything.
“In that case—” He reached into his coat’s breast pocket and pulled out a sheaf of envelopes. “When I call your name please pick up your check from me. There will be someone waiting at your desk to help you clear out your things.”
The ultimate humiliation. She would have to clean out her desk while someone looked over her shoulder to make certain she didn’t take something that wasn’t hers.
With all the dignity she could manage, Sherri walked to the head of the table when her name was called, took her check and returned to her desk. A smile was beyond her.
No one was talking. Those remaining with the company had their heads down, working. Had she been in their place, she would no doubt have done the same. She was now separated from them. They worked here. She didn’t.
Numbly she found a box and began to strip her desk of reference books and other odds and ends she’d accumulated over the past three years.
She was escorted out of the building and once in the parking lot, Sherri hurried to her car, at the moment the only escape and sanctuary she had. The inside of the car steamed with heat and she quickly rolled down the windows while she placed the box on the backseat. Inside the car, Sherri placed her hands on the steering wheel and stared blindly through the windshield.
What did I do wrong? I was rarely late and always called in. I didn’t take sick days like some of the others. Maybe I shouldn’t have skipped that meeting a few weeks ago in order to meet a printing deadline.
Panic surged through her. What about her part of the rent and utilities? She had money put away for emergencies, but nothing like this. She’d have no income to take care of bills.
The money left for her by her parents had enabled Sherri to pay for her college education and to buy herself a car. She’d been thankful not to have to worry about student loans and very grateful for their foresight.
What was she going to do? She had to get another job, but where?
She’d have to go through interviews, which she detested. She’d have to tell them she’d been laid off. Would that be a black mark against her?
Her eyes finally focused on a few people standing near their parked cars, discussing what had happened. She didn’t want to discuss what had happened with anyone. What she wanted to do was go back home and hide under the bed, or at least hide her head under her pillow.
Her life had been so carefully structured. She’d believed that working hard and honing her skills would protect her.
Tears trickled down her cheeks. She turned the car on and waited for the air conditioner to blow some cool air before raising the windows.
She couldn’t sit in the parking lot all day. She had no place else to go but home. Thank goodness school was still in session. She wouldn’t have to face Joan until later today.
Joan planned to spend most of her summer with three of her teacher friends traveling around Europe. They were leaving the latter part of June.
Sherri knew she was being cowardly, but she wished that this could have happened after Joan had left. She could have used the time to pull herself together and make some kind of plans.
She felt sick to her stomach. She had to get through this, somehow.
Sherri flipped the visor down and stared at herself in the mirror. “So. What do you intend to do now?”
The image in the mirror, with its dark-brown hair, green eyes and pasty white skin stared back blankly.
“Try not to panic. You can do this.”
She flipped the mirror up and eased the car forward. As she pulled out of the parking lot, Sherri thought of one positive…at least her car was paid for. That was one less worry. It was a few years old but she took good care of it. She only prayed nothing major broke down until she had a steady income once again.
She glanced back for a moment before getting on the access road of the freeway. Happiness was not looking in your rearview mirror to see the building where you no longer worked.
Sherri followed the access road until she could merge with traffic on the highway. She glanced at the car clock, amazed to discover it wasn’t even noon yet. Had it only been a few hours ago that she’d been home sipping coffee and reading the paper?
She shook her head. There was definitely a time warp going on. Nothing seemed real to her.
Once on the highway, Sherri headed for home. Traffic flowed smoothly at this time of day, which was a blessing. She had to force herself to focus on her driving.
After a few miles of traveling at seventy, she realized that, once again, luck was against her. Brake lights showed up ahead of her and she began to slow down. There must be an accident up ahead.
Out of habit, she glanced in her rearview mirror and froze.
A tractor-trailer rig had suddenly appeared at the top of the rise behind her and was bearing down on her.
Couldn’t he see all the red brake lights ahead of him? Couldn’t he see that she had come to a complete stop?
Time slowed down for her as she watched him attempt to slow down his rig. She could hear his brakes screaming as he moved inexorably toward her.
Sherri felt a certain calm fall upon her as she waited for him to hit her. Maybe this was the way her life would end. At that moment, she really didn’t care.
The last thing she remembered was the sound of screeching metal as the rig plowed into her car.
Sherri roused at some point, wondering where she was. She felt as though she were floating. She vaguely heard voices that didn’t seem to have anything to do with her. Excited voices. She lazily wondered what they were excited about.
A voice near her head yelled. “This one’s trapped in her car. We’ve gotta get her out of here. Now!”
“Is she alive?”
“Can’t tell. I can see her, but can’t reach her.
She wondered who they were talking about.
Loud sounds echoed around her, which was irritating. How rude. Couldn’t they see she was trying to rest?
She faded away, the voices in the distance, until she felt a hand at her throat.
“There’s a pulse. Let’s get her out of there.”
The seat shifted. Why was she under the dash? Compact cars were too small to be playing games.
Then more hands touched her, moving her.
She screamed and blacked out once again.