War Room (16 page)

Tony had settled in
for a leisurely morning without any sales calls or driving. He would go into work in the afternoon and do some paperwork, and he had a weekly department meeting to attend, which he hated, but it was going to be an easy morning. He would make an omelet with cheese and veggies for a late breakfast and watch a recap of last night’s games.

Danielle sat at the table writing furiously with her pencil as he chopped onions and peppers.

“What are you doing?” he said.

“Writing in my journal,” she said without looking up. She was focused on the page, like some ancient scribe who wanted to get every stroke perfect.

“Mom told me about that. Can I see it?”

She closed the journal and shook her head. “No, this is private. I write stuff in here that only me and God see.”

Tony smiled and cracked four eggs in a bowl. “Well, can I at least see the front of it?”

She frowned, then handed it over. “But don’t look inside.”

He washed and dried his hands and took it. It was leather-bound and weighty. It felt like a Bible and had an interesting design on the front. “This is really great, Danielle. So what kind of things are you writing in here?”

She took the journal back. “Just verses and prayer requests and stuff like that.”

He leaned down with his elbows on the table, right next to her. “And what’s your number one prayer request right now?”

She looked at him and opened her mouth like she was going to say something, then closed it quickly. “I can’t tell you.”

“Of course you can. I won’t laugh or anything. Is that why you won’t tell me?”

“No, it’s just that it’s between me and God.”

Connecting with his daughter was going to be more difficult than he thought. Tony retreated to the stove and turned on a burner. He was formulating his next question when his phone rang with a number from the office. He answered and found his district manager, Rick, on the line.

“Hey, Rick, what can I do for you?”

“I was wondering if you could come to the office. Something’s come up we need to discuss.”

“Well, I was taking the morning off after the trip. I’ll be in for the meeting this afternoon. Can we meet right before then?”

“I don’t think this can wait, Tony. I need you to get here as soon as you can, okay?”

He didn’t like the sound of Rick’s voice, but it was clear the only reaction was simple obedience. “Yeah, Rick, sure thing. I’ve got Danielle
 
—I’ll figure it out and see you in a few.”

“I appreciate it,” Rick said.

Tony put his phone away and turned off the burner. Breakfast would have to wait. He called Elizabeth but her voice mail answered. He clicked off the phone angrily.

Then he got an idea. “Do you think I could drop you off at your friend’s house? Jeanette or Jeanie . . . ?”

“Jennifer,” Danielle said.

“Yeah, Jennifer. Could you call her?”

He retreated to his bedroom and showered and dressed. When he came out, Danielle had her jump rope and was ready. “Her mom said it would be fine. Where are you going?”

“Rick called me to a meeting
 
—my boss. And when the boss says, ‘Jump,’ you learn to ask, ‘How high?’ Where did your mom go this morning? To work?”

“Yeah, then to Miss Clara’s house.”

They drove to the end of the street and Tony realized he had no idea where the girl lived.

“Turn here,” Danielle said. “Her house is down that way.”

He pulled into the driveway and walked up with his daughter. Jennifer opened the door and the two were off into the house. The girl’s mother came to the door and introduced herself.

“I’m really sorry about this,” Tony said.

“Oh, don’t be.”

“My boss called and I need to get to work. I’ll have Elizabeth pick her up on her way home, if that’s okay.”

“It’s no problem at all,” the woman said. “Danielle can stay all day if she wants. Or I can drop her off at the house when Elizabeth gets home from work.”

“That would be great,” Tony said. “Thank you.”

Tony called Elizabeth on his way to the office but the call went straight to her voice mail again. He left a quick message, telling her that Jennifer’s mom would drop Danielle off at home later, then hung up, steaming that he couldn’t speak with her.

When he got to the office, Sharon, Rick’s secretary, saw him and quickly picked up the phone. She wasn’t her usual bubbly self but Tony felt there was probably something going on in her life. Maybe a marriage problem. Or maybe he was projecting his problems onto her.

Rick opened the door and ushered Tony in. Also in the room was Tom Bennett, the vice president Tony didn’t care for. Plus Clinton Withers, head of the human resources
department. Strange. Clinton only attended meetings where there were hirings and firings.

Rick shook hands with Tony and motioned for him to sit. Suddenly he felt like he’d walked into an ambush.

“Tony, there’s no easy way to say this,” Rick said, his eyes on his laptop. “I had a conversation with Greg yesterday.”

“I know Greg,” Tony said, his stomach curling into a tight ball. “He’s an inventory rep.” He tried to look innocent like he was unsure of what Rick was talking about. Tom and Clinton just stared at him.

“Greg says your numbers are off. And it’s not a onetime thing. He saw the same thing last week after your trip to Asheville. He says there’s a pattern.”

Tom leaned forward. “He’s padding, Rick.” He said it with a sneer like he enjoyed the accusation. “It’s clear what’s going on.”

“Wait,” Tony said, not sure how to defend himself.

Rick turned the screen around and spoke with some regret. “Numbers don’t lie, Tony. Greg double-checked. This is the fifth time he’s noticed. And it makes me wonder if this hasn’t been going on for a while.”

“I’m sure there’s just a mix-up,” Tony said, trying to sound confident. His palms were sweating and he had a hard time swallowing. He needed something to drink. He needed a trapdoor. “Let me go get my samples and count again. . . .”

“That won’t be necessary, Tony,” Clinton said. “In cases like this where there’s a clear breach, termination is the only option. It’s spelled out in your contract.”

“Termination?” Tony said.

“You’re gone, Tony,” Tom said. There was a little glee in his voice.

“You mean that’s it?” Tony said. And the switch flipped inside. The competitor, the person who had to be right, to win the argument. “I’m your best sales guy. I spoke with Coleman the other day. I’ve got a bonus coming because of the Holcomb contract. You’d let me go just because some numbers don’t match up?”

“He’s never earned his bonuses,” Tom said. “It’s all been a smoke screen.”

Rick looked at him sadly. “Tony, you know how much I like you. You know I took a chance with you. Believed in you. Spoke up for you with Coleman and the others.”

“I told you it was a mistake,” Tom said.

“And I don’t understand what’s going on in your personal life,” Rick continued. “I don’t know what may have caused you to do this. But there’s a zero-tolerance policy for this type of thing.”

“You knew that when you signed the contract,” Clinton said.

Tony nodded and dropped his eyes to the floor. They had him dead to rights. The only thing left to do was admit guilt and ask for mercy. But if he admitted he was guilty of padding the numbers, he’d have to tell them the real truth and there would be more problems. Legal problems.

Tony looked up. “What happens to my salary? The bonus?”

“You’ll be paid up until today,” Clinton said. “There will be no bonus check because of the termination. No severance. I will need your key card and your phone before you leave the building
 
—you can give those to Jerry.”

A security guard discreetly entered the room. Tony had seen Jerry at the front of the building but never knew his name. He never thought he needed to know it because the guy just opened the door and said, “Good morning.” Now Jerry would be the last person in the building he’d see.

The air went out of the room. Tony had never believed they would notice the missing sample boxes. He didn’t think it mattered
 
—a few pills? Sure, the number of boxes had mounted, but still, with all the money the company was raking in . . .

“My house,” he said. “My family. Insurance. How do we pay the bills?”

“You should have thought of that before you fudged your numbers,” Tom said, jumping on Tony’s words.

“I’m sorry, Tony,” Rick said. “I really am.”

Tony signed the papers and Jerry escorted him to his desk. There was a box on top of it to store his personal items. He had a picture of Elizabeth and Danielle with the words
Best Dad Ever
around the frame.
Yeah, right. Best dad ever gets tossed out on his ear.
It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t right.

But it was. That was the shame of it. He deserved what he was getting.

“Another thing,” Rick said, meeting him in the hall outside his office. “I forgot to talk to you about the car.”

The car. Tony had forgotten about his Tahoe. It had become his second home.

“We’ll come to get it tomorrow,” Rick said. “Unless you’d rather we drive you home now. Whatever you think would be easier for
 
—”

“Let me drive it home,” Tony said. He couldn’t imagine being driven home by his boss, like a teenager who had failed a driver’s test. Like some drunk being driven home from a party. The truth was, he wanted to be alone and away from all of this. All of the accusations and stares.

He felt like a dead man walking through the hallway. People turned away as he walked past cubicles and open office doors. Their faces were full of pity and shame and maybe a little bit of relief. It was something he’d only seen once before at the company, and he’d promised himself he’d never become
that guy
. Now here he was, walking the plank that led to an ocean of unemployment.

Rick walked side by side with him to the elevator. The man tried to find something to say but couldn’t. Jerry pushed the Down button and they waited until the elevator dinged.

Tony turned. “My accounts. You’ll have to explain what happened.”

Rick shook his head. “We can’t talk about HR stuff. We’ll just tell them you moved on to another opportunity. Don’t worry about your accounts, Tony. We’ll take care of them. You just take care of yourself, okay?”

Tony nodded and rode to the first floor, and the guard walked him to his car. How would he tell Elizabeth? How
could he explain? And how would she respond? She would explode. He was sure of that. She would think about herself and Danielle and the house payment and his “indiscretion.” She would categorize it as “sin.” She would take it personally, say that he had brought shame on the family, and there would be tears and a turned back and rejection. It would be the nail in the coffin of their marriage.

The family. What would he say when he walked into the house at Thanksgiving with her relatives there? What would he say to Michael or to anyone else from church? And who was going to hire a guy who’d been fired for stealing from his employer? So many questions. Yes, Tom was right
 
—he should have thought of all this before he ever took a box of pills.

Danielle wouldn’t understand why Dad was hanging around the house so much. And Elizabeth . . . the distance between them would only grow.

He looked in the rearview and watched the building recede in the distance. Instead of taking the familiar route home, he drove aimlessly around town. No more going on the road. No more setting up meetings. No more bonuses. All he had was a hefty life insurance policy that would provide for Elizabeth and Danielle and another that paid off the house. He was worth more dead than alive.

When Elizabeth left Clara’s house, she checked her phone and saw that Tony had left a message. Something about
dropping Danielle off at Jennifer’s. He had told her he’d watch Danielle and here he was leaving her. Probably going to work. That’s where his heart was. She wished he would put as much energy into his home as he did his job.

She pulled away from Clara’s and another thought struck her. If Tony was at work, he had done the responsible thing and taken Danielle to someone’s house. And she was grateful for how hard he worked
 
—the way he provided for their family. There were plenty of men who didn’t seem to care about working for a living and becoming successful. Instead of thinking negatively, she turned that around, made a different script.