The Lights of Tenth Street (9 page)

The silence crackled between them.

Why did she always start nagging him about his work hours when he was the most stressed? Did she think he
liked
working this many hours? Why didn’t she trust him, that he tried everything he could to get home to her? He was working his tail off to support this family!

Sherry had her head turned firmly toward the window, and he could hear her sniffle. Hadn’t he shown that he cared by trying this ridiculous plan of coming home to pack and having her drive him to the airport so they could spend some time together?

He sighed to himself. Some time together.

Sorry, Lord. I guess I’m being a jerk. Forgive me
.

He took a deep breath. “Sherry.”

A pause. “What.”

“I’m sorry.”

Another pause, then she reached over to take his hand. “I love you, Doug. I just want to be with you more. That’s all.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I just—I just wish you were able to recognize that I
do
want to be with you, and Brandon and Genna. It makes me feel terrible that you somehow don’t think that I do.”

Her voice was very small. “Well, what am I supposed to think? I wouldn’t mind the long hours so much if you’d really
be home
when you’re home. But you’ve just been so stressed that …” She sighed. “I don’t know.”

“You know it’s not going to be forever. We went into this with our eyes open.”

“Look, I know that! Anyone with a technology-related company works long hours these days—and I want you all to succeed as much as you do! But can’t you leave work at work? Instead, you come home grumpy and snap at the kids.”

He took a deep breath. “I know. I’m sorry. I’ll try to be better about that. I really will.”

“And we hardly ever … you know … do it any more.”

“Yeah, I know. I just—” he felt awkward, searching for the right words. “I guess I’m just preoccupied.”

“That’s true—you have been.”

“Well, it’s not just me, you know! You’re tired a lot, too.”

Sherry looked down and didn’t respond. In the uncomfortable silence, Doug sighed to himself, feeling deflated. It
wasn’t
only his fault. And with the pressure of his job, it would be nice to regularly have that means to de-stress. Every now and then he couldn’t take the pressure, and that bothered him. But he didn’t tell her that. It would hurt her feelings.

He looked at the clock on the dashboard and sped up a little. If he missed this plane, the new deal would go south and she’d see even
less
of him.

Twenty minutes later they pulled up in front of the airport. He dragged his bags out of the SUV and set them on the sidewalk. Sherry slowly climbed down from the passenger side and gave him a tremulous smile.

“Sorry I made you late.”

“That’s okay, honey.” He gave her a quick kiss. “As long as the security checkpoints aren’t too bad I should be okay.”

“Call me as soon as you get there.”

“I will. Pray for my flight.”

“I will.”

He walked toward the nearest entrance, then looked back over his shoulder and mouthed
I love you
.

She didn’t see him. A policeman was urging her to move along. She climbed into the driver’s seat and slowly pulled away.

Doug walked into the terminal, feeling alone.

Sherry merged with the traffic, emptiness swamping her. She had so looked forward to having her husband all to herself for a solid hour or two. What on earth had gone wrong? Maybe it was too much to expect, that Doug would ever be able to relax and connect during a preflight rush.

A decrepit car with one taillight missing swerved in front of her, barely missing her bumper. Sherry stomped on her brakes, then leaned on the horn. Someone in the backseat of the car turned around and made an obscene gesture. Sherry watched as the old vehicle turned off at the next exit and sped onto a rundown street, tires squealing. Why did some people think they owned the road? She would never treat anyone like that!

The rest of the midday traffic was well-behaved as Sherry merged onto the main highway and headed north through downtown Atlanta. Her eye was drawn to a billboard that advertised a local church’s Christmas show:
Bring the whole family!

She gave the sign a sad smile. Doug wouldn’t be back for their church’s Christmas
show this weekend. He had explained to Genna that he couldn’t get back from California in time, and the four-year-old had seemed to understand. But as Sherry had watched her daughter prance around the house in her little angel costume, her heart ached at what her husband was missing.

And it wasn’t just the time away from his family. Sherry wanted him to be
happy
in his work, not exhausted, not stressed. She remembered his delight in his first job out of business school, how he whistled in the shower on Monday mornings. Now, he was quiet and withdrawn on Sunday evenings, thinking about what was coming in a few hours.

They had a great house, two beautiful cars; the kids were in their church’s expensive Christian school … and it wasn’t worth it.

She drove around a curve, and another billboard jumped out at her. This one was larger, emblazoned with the name of a gentleman’s club and a woman in a suggestive pose.

Ugh
. Who would go into one of those places? They were dirty, in run-down neighborhoods, and reeking of alcohol. She glanced again at the woman’s smoky-eyed picture as she sped by. What kind of person would do that sort of thing?

A moment later, Sherry let out a sigh. Who was she to ask that question? Before her life was transformed, she hadn’t exactly been an angel. She had grieved God’s heart many, many times. Why was it that a decade of distance made it difficult for her to remember that? It was as if those memories were pictures of a whole different person—a whole different life that she could somehow judge from afar.

She sat up straighter in her seat. Those memories
were
of a whole different person—in a way. She was a new creation.

Her voice was small in the gently humming car. “Thank You, God, for reaching out to me, for transforming me. Thank You for giving me this wonderful husband and family. Please, please forgive me for my snippy attitude.” She gave a snort, annoyed with herself. “I’m probably overanalyzing everything again, like always. Lord, help me leave it in Your hands and not be so stressed. Help me learn how to be the wife that Doug needs me to be.”

Her mind went to the decrepit car and to the woman on the billboard, and she sighed. “And help me love the unlovable as You do.”

H
ey, Jordan.” Doug set his laptop case on the tiled floor of the vast foyer and shook hands with his boss.

“Glad you made it. Your phone call about gave me a heart attack. I thought you were going to miss your flight.”

“I nearly did. Had a problem getting out of the house, and then getting through security nearly torpedoed the whole thing. I ran up to the gate just as they were closing the doors.”

“Been there.” Jordan smirked. “I’ve had a few of those getting-out-of-the-house problems, too. Probably why I’ve been divorced twice. Well, time to go make money.”

Jordan picked up his briefcase and walked toward a transparent wall that separated the foyer from a large office area. Doug could see frenetic activity in the cubicles beyond, harried people carrying papers and equipment, lots of people on the phone.

Jordan paused just shy of the office entrance. “I know you’ve never been here before—have you met the principals yet?”

Doug shook his head. “I only took over the deal after one of the managers went on maternity leave a few weeks ago.”

“Maternity leave is the pits, isn’t it? Makes you want to tell ’em to not bother taking the job if they’re just going to leave for three months.”

Maybe
that’s
the reason you’ve been divorced twice, you bozo
.

“Well, just remember that we’ve put a lot of time and effort into building this relationship.”

“Jordan, I’m not going to eat them.”

“Yes, I know, but—”

“Look, I’ll give it a fair hearing, chief. I really will. I know you want this deal, and that they want this partnership. I’ll do everything I can to find a way to structure it so that it works financially.”

“Fair enough.” Jordan chuckled. “With you, that’s all I can ask.”

He led the way into the office teeming with ringing telephones, raucous chatter, and clattering carts laden with equipment. Doug followed his boss around the
edge of the large room, heading toward an open staircase. He resisted the urge to plug his ears.

They climbed the gently circling staircase to a catwalk that overlooked the clamor. Doug shook his head. He would go stark raving mad in this environment, but some people must thrive on it. There was no way he could live in Silicon Valley.

The catwalk led to a second-floor suite of elegant executive offices, visible behind another transparent wall. They stepped inside and shut the door behind them. Doug looked around the quiet waiting area and let out a sigh of relief.

He heard a chuckle from a nearby doorway.

“Gets to you, doesn’t it?” A rotund man with a ready smile stepped forward, hand outstretched.

“Gavin Gilmore, I’d like you to meet Doug Turner, our CFO,” Jordan said.

“Just call me Gil. Welcome, both of you.” He shook Doug’s hand, then led them toward a conference room. “Let’s get started, shall we? I’ll let you get settled in, and we’ll get our executive team in here in a few minutes.”

He looked at Jordan and paused, hesitating. “Jordan, I haven’t told you—I was sorry to hear about your brother.”

“Thank you. It was for the best, really. He’d been sick a long time.”

“Hmm.” Gil made a noncommittal noise in his throat, picking his words carefully. “So … you’re running the company on your own now, correct?”

“Correct. But we have the same management team, same board of directors, same company structure.” His eyes flickered for a moment. “The board feels it’s important to demonstrate consistency.”

“Ah. Well. Just wanted to know the new lay of the land before we got started.” Gil headed out the door, then poked his head back in. “Want anything to drink? Coffee? Coke?”

“Coffee would be great.”

Gil’s head disappeared, and Doug could hear his voice outside the door, presumably talking to his secretary, asking her to round up both the coffee and the leadership team.

Doug raised an eyebrow, pondering Gil’s question. The man’s affable attitude was deceiving—he was more astute than many of their contacts. Most didn’t realize how much was subtly changing under Jordan’s solo management.

Ten minutes later, the small conference room was full, neat white briefing reports in front of each chair.

Gil was seated at the head of the table. “Well, Doug, we’ve spent a few months fleshing out the options from our end, and we also know what your company can bring to the table. Now we have to see if we can afford what you’re suggesting, and vice versa. As much as we want this deal, we all know it needs to be a win-win for both sides. So we’ve put together all the partnership proposals for our different departments; defense contracting, telecommunications, and so on. Our department heads will give you the rundown.”

He turned to the only woman at the table. “So, Jill, let’s start with satellite systems.”

“Sure.” The redhead stood up and walked toward the whiteboard on the wall. She was wearing a slim jacket and stylish, but short skirt, and no wedding ring.

Uh-oh
. Doug’s eyes narrowed. He felt the familiar tightening in his gut. He forced himself to look away briefly and took a subtle breath. He looked back as she began her presentation, briskly laying out the various options. She turned from marking on the whiteboard to look at him from time to time, explaining what their department proposed.

She’s not as pretty as Sherry
. He wanted to glance at her legs, and forced himself to stare at her face.

She made a joke and briefly smiled in his direction. He could feel his ego stirring.
She knows that I’m the key man here. And I’m in better shape than these middle-aged guys she works with
.

He broke the eye contact and looked down at his yellow pad, scribbling a few notes, forcing his mind in another direction.
If their margin is so small that pricing structure wouldn’t work
 …

By the time her presentation wound up, he had pages full of notes and fifteen minutes of battling the subtle thoughts that fought for his attention.

If the GPS package is two hundred thousand, then we may have to outsource. Does she find me attractive? Stop it. Concentrate on the numbers
.

Their testing schedule won’t allow enough time. I bet I’m a better husband and father than whatever guy she’s dating … Cut it out. What was that product timeline?

Look at her face, look at her face, look at her face
 …

As she turned and walked back to her seat, he snuck a swift peek at the view. He forced his eyes away and swiveled his chair toward Gil.

“So, Doug, any questions?”

“Nope.” He scribbled a last few notes, hoping he hadn’t missed any key facts. “I want to hear all the presentations before I start trying to contradict your numbers.”

Low chuckles sounded around the room.

“Fair enough.” Gil gestured to the man sitting next to Jordan, and he walked
over to the whiteboard and erased Jill’s scribblings.

Doug found his eyes flickering in her direction. She was sitting back in her chair like every other executive, waiting for her colleague’s presentation.

Doug wrenched his attention back to the man at the whiteboard outlining a defense-industry proposal in a low monotone.

Doug stifled a yawn and reached for his coffee, very aware of Jill’s presence down the table.

Sherry poked her head out the door of the church pantry, checking on the kids for the fifth time. The half-dozen rambunctious youngsters hadn’t burned down the playground yet. Thankfully, a teenage girl appeared to have the madness under control.

As Sherry stepped back inside the small room, one of the other volunteers broke off from a conversation and glanced at her from beyond a shelf of canned goods.