Читать книгу Just Like Em - Marion Ekholm - Страница 11

CHAPTER FOUR

“THANKS FOR HELPING, Mom,” Em said as Doris finished washing the dishes. Roger and the twins had stayed for lunch, a macaroni-and-cheese creation of her mother’s that Sammy couldn’t get enough of. Everyone else seemed to enjoy it, as well. The kitchen was small, with dark cabinets and barely enough room for the two to work. Em wiped the last plate and planted a kiss on her mother’s cheek, a small thanks for all that she had done.

“Once I finish up here, I’ll go back to my room and read,” Doris said. “You go entertain Roger.”

“I don’t know.” Em glanced through the kitchen doorway. “He’s engrossed in some business he has to complete for tomorrow.”

Doris placed a wet hand on her shoulder and pushed. “Go on. I remember when nothing could keep you from bugging him.”

Em stayed put. “Was I that bad?” All those juvenile high jinks she had performed in an attempt to gain his attention. A tremble shook her head and shoulders. If only she could wash away her misguided antics.

Doris flipped back a strand of hair and sighed. “As I recall, you thought he walked on water.”

“Well, I know better now.” Another push from her mother sent her into the dining room. She had no desire to join the boys in the living room and watch another rerun of Star Wars, the video they had chosen. Samantha hadn’t returned from having lunch with a girlfriend, so Em couldn’t talk with her.

Despite the relatively pleasant time she and Roger had shared today, Em felt ill at ease. Maybe it was that ridiculous shirt he was wearing. It belonged on a bonfire. She had changed into white shorts and a red T-shirt, but obviously Roger hadn’t bothered to bring anything extra.

“Can I get you something? More iced tea? A beer?”

Roger looked up from where he sat at the dining-room table and smiled. Except for one slightly protruding eyetooth, he had a perfect smile, one that made her feel all warm and cozy inside. “No thanks. Pull up a chair, unless you’d rather join the kids.”

“I’d prefer adult company, if I’m not disturbing you.”

Roger tilted his chair back and stretched his arms over his head. His Hawaiian shirt momentarily pulled tight across his chest before he dropped his hands back to the table. “Actually you might be able to give me some insight. I’m working on transfering work from my department at Metro to another office in Seattle. It means several people will be losing their jobs unless they can move to Seattle. I’d like some input from someone who’s been there. Your mother mentioned you’ve been laid off before.”

“Twice.”

“Two times? That’s got to be hell!”

“More like an endless roller-coaster ride.” Em pulled out the wooden chair and sat next to him so she wouldn’t be forced to look at that shirt.

“Tell me about it. The company’s providing us with an agency that deals with outplacements, but I’m interested in hearing firsthand what actually helped to get you back to full employment.”

He moved his arm, so that the short hairs tickled hers, and Em shifted slightly to avoid the contact. It was too disconcerting and she was trying to keep her mind focused on their discussion.

“The first time was the worst. About twenty of us were walked out of the building like criminals the day we received our notice. They gave us one month’s severance and a printed list of possible employers we could find on the internet.” She folded her hands on the table in front of her.

“And the second time?”

“Not so bad. I had learned there’s no such thing as job security. Besides, this company made the transition bearable.” She needed to do something with her hands. Em reached for a pen and inadvertently touched Roger’s arm again. She pulled her hands into her lap.

“They expected everything to take two years to transfer,” she continued, “and they did what they could to keep our morale up so we’d stick around. Anyone who stayed through the entire process would receive a large bonus package.”

The space between Roger and her was decreasing, because Roger kept leaning toward her as though he wanted to catch everything she had to say. Em considered moving her chair a little farther away, but decided she liked the idea that he found her interesting.

“How did they keep you there?” Roger picked up a yellow legal pad and began making hen scratches.

“They offered training we’d need to make ourselves more saleable in the work world and gave us counseling as well as help in writing résumés and... Am I going too fast for you?” Roger stopped writing and looked up.

“No. This is great information. Go on.”

“How are you going to read that?”

Roger dropped his pencil and propped his head on his hand again. “It takes a while, but I manage.”

“Wait a minute.” Em got up and returned after a moment with a laptop computer. At least this would keep her hands occupied. “I’ll put it all down in a readable form. What else do you want to know?”

“What they did to make life bearable. Stuff like that.”

Em typed as she talked. “They gave us unexpected breaks that cost them very little....”

“That’s good,” Roger said, straightening and pointing to the computer. “Put that down.”

“Like one day they gave us the afternoon off to watch a video, a comedy, and they provided popcorn and pop.”

“Didn’t that cut down on production?”

Em typed in his question then added her answer. “No. Production improved. Most of us were glad to have some relief from the pressure that was always present.” She was really getting into this, enjoying their exchange.

“What else?”

“Well...” She closed her eyes a moment to picture the scene. “They used incentives.”

“To keep production at its peak?”

Em chuckled as she typed. “No, to keep us coming in every day. People who had collected sick time began to get ill Wednesday and recover by the next Tuesday. The company needed reliable workers, so everyone who didn’t miss a day during the week got a little prize.”

Roger placed his hands over his face and mumbled, “Oh, boy. Here it comes.” He brushed his hands through his hair before sitting back. “What’s it going to cost?”

“What’s the cost of four or five days of pay for just one person out sick, not even counting the production cost or the strain on the other employees who have to fill in?”

Roger whistled softly before Em added, “We received prizes of tickets for movies or lunch passes. In a month of perfect attendance, we might get items equal to an hour and a half of our pay. No big deal for them, but a fun thing for us.”

“Who decided these things?”

“Well, we had an agency working with HR and our supervisors worked closely with them. They constantly solicited our opinions. Also, those who’d made a month of perfect attendance had their names placed in a special drawing. Once it was a hundred-dollar gift certificate and another time a weekend at a dude ranch—big prizes that made us strive to stay.”

“You ever win one?

“No, I never had perfect attendance.” She’d often had to take time off to care for some emergency with Sammy.

Roger leaned over and looked at her screen. “You getting all that?” Once again, she found it disconcerting to have him so close. She misspelled a word and hastily corrected it. When he gazed at her with a look of total admiration, she loused up a whole sentence and quickly erased it.

“You know, I could use someone with your skills, but I can’t add any more people except temps. Your mother mentioned you’re a temp at your present job. Would you consider switching? I’d hire you on the spot.”

Work for Roger? Today had been so enjoyable. Wouldn’t more time with him be even better? Em ran her tongue over her bottom lip and felt the area still raw from yesterday’s bite. Men. They could certainly louse up your life. Not likely anything would be different working with Roger.

She rushed to say, “But my job—”

“Weren’t you over at Metro looking for work?” he interrupted.

“Yes, but when I heard about the layoffs at Metro, I accepted a permanent job for an excellent salary.” The lie came so easily. She hoped it would become truth tomorrow once she applied for the job. “Unfortunately, the medical plan isn’t the best.”

He moved away but continued to stare at her. “You look healthy enough.” She warmed under his scrutiny.

“I am, but Sammy suffers from asthma.” She returned her attention to the computer and saved the file. “Their policy doesn’t cover preexisting conditions for the first six months.”

“Too bad. Isn’t he covered under your ex’s plan?”

Without pausing to consider her words, Em rose and said, “Bradley doesn’t work. I’ll go attach this to my printer and get you a hard copy.”

“Thanks.” Noise from the other room increased. “It sounds like the galaxy has been saved. I’ll round up the boys and get Samantha. I still have to type up my presentation before tomorrow’s meeting.” He punched the air with his index fingers, simulating his hunt-and-peck typing style.

“I could type it for you. If it’s not sensitive or confidential.”

“No, you’ve done enough already.” He backed away toward the living room. “Thanks for a very nice day.”

The moment had turned awkward, but Em couldn’t figure out why. All she had done was volunteer to help, and Roger obviously needed all the help he could get.

* * *

ALONE AT HIS computer, Roger stared at his incomplete notes. It was after midnight, and he still couldn’t get his mind to focus on the job at hand. It was too busy rehashing and remembering each exchange with Em.

The day had been perfect, much like the times he’d shared with his wife. More important than her typing skills, Em offered humor, something missing in his life. For a short time the pressure of his job and the needs of his children had been shared.

Oh, she would make a wonderful assistant. He leaned back and grasped his hands behind his head, remembering her reaction when he offered the temporary position. Was it the hesitation or the awkward movements that seemed out of character? But then, what did he know?

Roger picked up his notes and glanced at the picture of Karen’s smiling face on his desk. It had been taken several years before her death. In this photo, too, she looked so lovely. So full of life. Who knew that in just a short while....

He’d enjoyed Em’s friendly companionship. That’s why he wouldn’t pursue it. He didn’t want to take advantage of her giving nature when he had nothing to give in return. Karen still remained the love of his life. He had nothing to offer anyone.

* * *

“YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND, Dad.” Samantha stood by his desk, hands on hips. “I need clothes. I start high school in less than two weeks, and I don’t have a thing to wear.”

Frustrated by the interruption, Roger turned from his computer. Only two weeks? Where had the summer gone? The schedules he needed by the next day still weren’t finished. After discussing Em’s suggestions with the group hired to handle the outplacements, Roger had implemented several of them. They’d go a long way toward helping the transition run smoothly. If everything could be completed, he’d have his weekend free to take the boys camping, a chance to relax for a change. Shopping certainly wouldn’t fill that bill.

Maybe she did need clothes. Lately, she wore only his discarded dress shirts and shorts made from torn jeans. “I do understand, Samantha. It’s just that I can’t take you shopping until next weekend.”

“By then there won’t be a decent thing left in the stores.”

“That’s ridiculous.” He looked back at his computer in despair. He’d lost the file he’d worked on all evening and had spent the past hour trying to regain the information. Nothing had gone right today.

“Why can’t you take me this weekend?” Samantha droned on in a voice that rubbed his nerves raw. “Arizona Mills is having special sales and...”

He swiveled to face her and slammed his elbow against the computer in the process. He bit down on his tongue to keep from swearing. “You know why, Samantha. I’m taking the boys camping this...”

“The boys. The boys. That’s all that matters to you. You don’t care what happens to me. No one does.”

He turned back to his computer. “Speak to Sophia.”

“She’s wrapped up in her wedding and her move to Tucson. She doesn’t have any time for me.”

Sophia planned to leave in two weeks, and he still had no idea how to replace her. Roger made a mental note to call an employment agency the next day. “How about Aunt Jodie?”

“She has other plans.”

Roger closed his eyes and rubbed the lids in an attempt to relieve some of the pressure building behind them. Today, three more people left for different jobs, two transferred within the company and another just quit, accepting the offered severance. If only he could do that, leave right now and walk away with a severance based on all the years he’d spent at Metro. With a sigh, he knew he’d never do that. Completing this task at work had become a moral obligation.

“I’ll spend the whole weekend with nothing to do,” Samantha continued.

“Would you rather come with us to Prescott?”

“No. I’d rather go shopping!” she shouted as she stomped into the family room. A moment later he heard her heavy steps on the stairs. A door slammed. Damn. Roger leaned back in his seat and stared at his monitor.

Oh, if he could only ditch this whole mess. His mind was pulled in too many directions. One problem got solved and two jumped in to take its place. He still hadn’t found someone to help ease the load. If only he could hire Em. He was certain she’d never lose a whole file, or if she did, she’d know how to recover it.

Every time he found a chore he’d normally put in an administrative assistant’s competent hands, he thought of how well Em would handle it. No one in the group of displaced employees had demonstrated any of the skills he needed. Continuing to muse, he visualized Em recovering the file and giving him a chance for a full night’s sleep instead of one with recurring nightmares.

He glanced across the desk and saw Karen staring at him. Would she think he was obsessing? Probably. She’d always managed to help him cope. Help him relax. Oh, he could really use one of her backrubs. Every nerve in his body longed for attention. Except for his morning swim, he hadn’t even had a chance to exercise.

What would Karen’s reaction be if he told her how his opinion of Em had changed? Instead of that teenaged brat, he saw an attractive woman with a delightful sense of humor. He mused a moment longer, remembering the pleasant afternoon they’d spent. He returned his attention to Karen’s picture, and a sensation of guilt hit him unexpectedly. Ever since he’d met his wife, no other woman had captured his interest.

He and Karen had talked about how his life had to go on after her death. She had insisted he find someone to take her place and give their children the mothering they needed. Roger focused on Karen’s smiling face. But no other woman could fill my life the way you did. A man couldn’t expect to experience heaven more than once in a lifetime.

Roger chewed over his predicament. Okay, so Em was the first woman he’d even noticed since...since he’d met Karen. But he doubted Em could ever have any interest in him. For that matter, she acted nervous and preoccupied around him. Why? And he couldn’t forget how much she’d hated him during that summer spent with his family. What had he done to create such animosity? One prank after another. If he had acted on his feelings at that time and strangled her, he’d probably still be in jail.

Roger stood and stretched. He had to find a way to retrieve that file so he could present it the next day. From the way Em handled her computer, he felt sure she would know what to do. She had offered to help. He scratched his head and tried to think how he could broach the subject. If she was willing to come here, he’d treat the whole thing as a business deal. Before he could change his mind, Roger reached for the yellow pad where he had scratched Em’s number and dialed.

“You know anything about retrieving lost data on a computer?” he asked the moment she answered. “I had about four hours of work go into never-never land, and I’m having an impossible time trying to find it.”

“Is this Roger?” a hesitant voice asked.

He grabbed a hank of hair and pulled. “Yeah. Sorry, Em, I...”

“This is Doris. I’ll see if she’s still up.”

Roger glanced at his watch. Ten o’clock! Why hadn’t he checked the time before calling? He was about to hang up, when Em said, “Hi, Roger. Mom said your computer crashed.”

“No. It’s just a lost file. Listen, I’m sorry I called. It’s late and you have to go to work tomorrow.”

“We both do. I may be able to help. What’s your address?”

* * *

EM BUSIED HERSELF in front of the bathroom mirror, removing the night cream she’d applied. She stifled a yawn. If it was nothing more than a lost file, she’d be back and in bed in no time. She fiddled with removing several curlers she’d put in before going to bed. The curls she’d planned for the next day would have to wait.

“Aren’t you primping a lot just to fix a computer?”

Em took a quick look at her mother leaning against the bathroom doorjamb. “I don’t want to look as though I just got out of bed, Mom. Give me a break.”

“You planning to go au natural?”

Em glanced down at the sleeveless T-shirt she used for sleeping. “I plan to change.” Her mother hadn’t shown this much interest in her attire since she was a teenager. Em glanced back at her mother, an edge to her reply. “Shouldn’t you be in bed?”

Doris chuckled as she turned away. “He still walks on water.”

Em stopped and stared at her image. Was she giving Roger’s sudden need for her help too much importance? After all, more than ten days had gone by without a call. He had sent a card: a short, formal thank-you to tell her how much the boys had appreciated the swim party, the meal, and how much he’d appreciated her help. But nothing personal such as “I’d like to see more of you.”

Something unknown, maybe common sense or karma, had kept her from taking that job with Roger. Close contact with him might have ended with her making a fool of herself. Too many of her friends had become involved in office romances and lived to regret it. Before she could reconsider and take the job Roger offered, she approached her boss and told him she’d like to accept the full-time position the company offered her. It was a done deal before the end of the week, with increased pay and eventual medical benefits for Sammy.

Right now, thanks to their sons, she had a fragile friendship with Roger. She wasn’t about to ruin it and make a fool of herself. She’d provide the help he needed and get home as quickly as possible.

Em brushed her hair roughly, enough to make it sting with static electricity. She found the sports bra she had discarded earlier, pulled on a clean T-shirt and slipped into shorts. With a quick look in the mirror, she decided even her mother would approve.

* * *

THE WHITE STUCCO walls glared under the porch light as Roger paced outside his front door. Nervousness churned in his stomach. What if she couldn’t recover his file? He told himself all this anxiety had to do with that possibility. He’d offer to pay her and usher her out.

How much should he offer? Immaterial. Whatever she charged would be worth it. He’d pay for it himself if he couldn’t get reimbursed from petty cash. She was here to help him out of a jam. He hesitated. What if she felt offering her money was insulting?

Karen, Karen, what should I do? His silent query went unanswered.

The moment Em’s car pulled into the driveway, Roger ran off the porch and opened her door. “I want to get this clear from the start, Em. I’m hiring you in a consultant capacity. Name your price.”

“Fine,” she said, stepping from the car.

Fine? No argument, no negotiations? Roger closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead.

“Headache?”

He opened his eyes. Em stood inches away. He took a deep breath and drew in her scent. Wrong move. “No,” he said, barely able to get the word out. “Can I take that for you?” As he reached for her bag, he brushed her hand and nearly dropped the computer.

“Whoa, let me take that.” Em pulled it away from him. About to put his hand on Em’s back to direct her, he turned toward his house. The moment he saw Samantha standing at the door, looking every bit like her mother, he dropped his hand to his side.

“Oh, I need your help desperately, Em,” Samantha said. She clasped her hands prayer fashion under her chin. “Dad won’t take me shopping, and I don’t have anything but rags to wear to school.”

“Samantha, stop being so dramatic and get to bed.” Why was she still up? He pushed past her into the house. “I told you I’ll take you next weekend.”

The girl uttered a strangled cry, shook her hands in the air and looked heavenward for help. How was he to deal with such antics? Couldn’t she cut him some slack? He faced a few more important crises than her lack of wardrobe.

Em turned to him and said, “Why don’t I go upstairs with Samantha while you get me a drink? Iced tea if you have any.” She followed his daughter before he could offer a protest.

“Okay, what’s going on?” Em asked when they reached the bedroom on the second floor. The room, decorated in frills and lace, seemed too immature for someone who had given up smoking at thirteen.

“Look at these.” Samantha picked up an armload of clothes that had been strewn across her bed and tossed them in the air. “They’re all out of style. I’ve grown two inches in the last year, and Dad hasn’t even noticed.”

Samantha lowered her voice and glanced toward the open door. “Besides,” she said, pulling the bulky men’s shirt out at the bust line, “My boobs are getting bigger and nothing looks right.”

“Um, well...” Em cleared her throat, and glanced around the room in an attempt to gather her thoughts. This was way beyond what she’d expected. This weekend. What plans had she made this weekend? She turned back to the girl. “I can take you shopping Saturday, but you have to clear it with your father, first.”

Samantha threw her arms around Em and nearly strangled her. “Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you. I’ll see if I can get Daddy’s credit cards.”

“My what?” Roger asked from the doorway. He held out a tall glass of iced tea to Em.

While sipping the drink, she watched the adult and child move into their separate camps. She had no business interfering. Why hadn’t she gone straight to the computer and avoided this scene?

“I told you I’d take you next week. You are not dragging Em away from her busy life.”

The past few weeks of strain showed clearly on his face. A muscle twitched in his cheek as he spoke in hushed tones to his daughter. The whites of his eyes were no longer white but sunset pink. From Em’s perspective, he looked overworked, overtired and emotionally overextended.

“Oh, but you can?” Samantha scowled at him, hands on her hips. “It’s eleven, Daddy. Why did you drag her over?”

Em tried not to react to the innuendo. After all, Samantha was using every means possible to get her way. But Roger turned red as fury washed over his face. His jaw tightened. Had Samantha hit a nerve?