Mine and Yvonne’s eyes meet, then we all join hands and bow our heads. Pam continues sobbing as Yvonne prays, “Lord Jesus, we ask that You send your angels into that operating room right now. Guide the doctor’s hands skillfully and work through the entire surgical team to save Troy’s life. We need You right now, Mighty God. Oh, how we need Your saving grace. We know that You are not yet finished with Troy Lyons. Your purpose for his life is yet to be revealed. Jesus, hold Your daughter Pam. Just wrap her in Your arms, Lord. Give her peace and strength. In Jesus’ name . . . amen.”
Pam whispers, “Amen.”
Yvonne and I get settled into our hospital seats because we don’t plan on going anywhere until Pam knows something positive about Troy. Pam doesn’t want us to call anyone else from the church, so it looks like we’re the prayer warriors on this one.
Pam is visibly a nervous wreck. Her knee is bouncing, and she keeps running her hand through her hair. I hand her a Bible, and she starts reading immediately, flipping back and forth to known verses. All the while Yvonne is rubbing Pam’s back and whispering “Jesus.”
To keep myself from pacing the floor, I find the vending machine and get snacks for everyone. Pam’s worry reminds me of another aspect of being a wife—one that I’m not ready for. What if I get married and he falls ill? Am I prepared to be a nurse to a sick man? I don’t think I’ve ever loved anyone other than Joshua that deeply, but yet I’ve thought on several occasions that I wanted to be married.
When I get back to the waiting room, the surgeon is talking to Pam. She has a look of relief on her face, so he must be telling her good news.
“Troy will be in intensive care for a while,” I hear him say. “Like I said, the surgery was a success. There’s no fluid in his lungs, and the puncture was repaired.”
“Thank you, Jesus,” whispers Pam.
“We just need to keep close watch on him overnight, but I don’t think we have anything to worry about, Mrs. Lyons.”
The surgeon motions over to Yvonne, whose head is bowed in a prayer of thanks, no doubt.
He says, “Tell your friends to keep those prayers coming.”
He obviously doesn’t know us. The praying goes without saying.
Yvonne
I
am completely worn-out. Physically, mentally and spiritually. Every time I look in the mirror, I break down. Part of me feels indescribable rage, and another part of me is experiencing a tremendous sadness. When I think of Luke, the energy is sapped right out of my body.
I know that my issues are nothing but a combination of my own flesh and the devil trying to do his best to have me living in hell with him. I’m trying to stay heaven-bound, though, so he will not have the victory.
Taylor invited me to a women’s conference at one of our sister churches. Honestly, I didn’t want to go, but she can be pretty determined. She told me that she hated going to church alone.
The evening that we went, the preacher was talking to wives. He was giving advice on all the practical things I already know. I could’ve gotten up there and given the sermon myself. I’ve been cooking, cleaning and praying for Luke for years, and just look where it got me.
The preacher got my attention when he started to preach on adultery. He said that adultery is nothing but intimacy without covenant. It was like a veil was lifted from my eyes. Finally, I could see a reason behind Luke’s madness that doesn’t make me to blame.
Luke was looking to fulfill his need for closeness and intimacy without the responsibilities and concerns that come along with the covenant relationship. When he looked at Taylor, he didn’t have to think of bills and repairs around the house. He didn’t have to think of health insurance or growing old—not when he was with her.
That night I experienced a newfound sense of freedom. For the first time I truly felt like the innocent party. But am I making excuses for a dog of a man? Was it purely lust that he was able to indulge in without guilt or remorse? Well, actually, I don’t know if he’s still guilt-free. I haven’t heard from him since he hurt me. There is a warrant out for his arrest, even though I didn’t press charges. He’s got family and friends all over, so there’s no telling where he is.
Pam has been really great too. When I was in the hospital, she cooked about two weeks of dinners for me and put them in my freezer. She’s funny. Always saying that she doesn’t have any friends. Well, it sure isn’t for a lack of trying. I hope that she considers me to be a close friend.
Taylor surprised me today by inviting me to lunch at the Galleria. I’m downtown, and because I’m so frugal (some call it cheap), I refuse to park in the Galleria’s high-priced parking garage. I can walk, and I know that I could use the exercise. It’s barely started to warm up, and it’s the end of April. Taylor has beaten me to our meeting spot, and she’s sitting at a table looking nervous.
Taylor waves at me when she sees me approaching. When I get to the table, the first thing I notice is that her hands are balled into tight fists, and her knuckles look white even through her cocoa-colored skin. I was wrong when I said that she looked nervous. She looks terrified.
“What are you eating?” I ask.
“Me? Nothing. I’m not hungry at all, and you probably won’t be either when I tell you what I came here to say.”
“Well, if it’s going to ruin my appetite, maybe I better eat first.” My attempt at a joke has gone horribly wrong. Taylor just looks intently into my face.
“Yvonne, Luke is back in town.”
I told myself that I was prepared to hear whatever Taylor brought me here to say. But when I hear those words, they drift into my head in super-slow motion. I grab the back of the chair and force myself to sit down even though my feet are glued to the floor.
“How do you know?”
“I saw him yesterday. I was here for lunch with some coworkers, and I saw him.”
“He was here? In this food court?”
Involuntarily, I start to scan the mall, although somewhere in my logical mind I’m thinking that there’s no way Luke would come to the same public spot twice in one week. Luke may be crazy, but I can’t say that he’s stupid.
“Yes. I saw him clear as day, and I think he was grinning at me.”
“Well, did he say anything? Did he threaten you in any way?”
“No. He didn’t come anywhere near me at all.”
I think Taylor is trying to gauge my reaction to her news. She seems to be trying to read my eyes, looking for some clue. I don’t know how I feel, though. It’s not exactly fear, although maybe it should be. Actually, it kind of feels like anticipation. I’ve been waiting for a showdown with Luke. I don’t know what the result will be, but at least it will be over.
I state decidedly, “I cannot worry myself about what that fool may or may not do. Have you heard from Pam today?”
“I talked to her earlier. She said that Troy has been in and out of consciousness, but the doctors are giving her good reports.”
“Bless God.”
Even though I’m hungry, Taylor and I agree to forgo lunch. She needs to pick up Joshua from the sitter, and I feel the sudden need to get out of the open. Later I’ll try to contact Pam and see if she needs anything.
Taylor
G
lenda has got to be the most demanding boss on the face of the planet. I don’t see how Pam worked for her all those years and still maintained her sanity. When I first started here, I looked at Glenda as a mentor. The only thing I’ve learned, though, is how to take credit for other people’s work. Today, though, I’m finally going to get my props.
I poured every ounce of my energy into a presentation for the executive board, asking for budget increases for our division. Of course, the assignment belonged to Glenda from the start. No board member would ask an administrative assistant to prepare such an important request. But Glenda knows how capable I am, and she passed the duty on to me without even blinking.
This morning I spent nearly an hour piling my hair into a professional-looking French roll. I put on my best Ann Taylor suit and my ten-dollar stockings and business pumps and headed into the office prepared to present my findings and my report. As Pam suggested, I’ve practiced articulating and using the English language properly. Even after practicing I prayed and prayed. I’ve never given a high-level presentation before.
I should’ve known something was up as soon as I came into the office. There was a note on my computer monitor to come to Glenda’s office immediately. I hoped that there was nothing wrong with the report, although I wasn’t against making some last-minute revisions if that was necessary.
“Sit down, Taylor,” she said as soon as I entered her office. She returned to her telephone conversation.
I sat for a moment, but I started to get irritated as I listened to her conversation. She was raving about my presentation—only I didn’t hear my name mentioned once. It also sounded like she fully intended to do all the presenting.
When she hung up the phone, I asked, “What’s going on, Glenda?”
“Taylor. Well, don’t you look professional today? You will make a good impression in the board meeting. Sometimes just looking the part will take you far.”
“Well, I plan to do a lot more than looking the part.”
“I certainly hope so, but unfortunately that’s not going to happen today.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m going to do the presentation, Taylor,” she said plainly.
“You’re going to do it? Why?”
“You don’t think I’m going to leave my precious budget increases up to you, do you? You’ve done some excellent research, but I feel that I can definitely get it across better.”
I sat straighter and took a deep breath. “I don’t agree with you, Glenda. I’ve worked hard on this presentation, and I deserve the credit.”
“It’s not your decision to make. I’d still like you to be in the meeting, of course. You at least have the right to hear your information come to life.”
“Glenda, I deserve to give the presentation.”
Glenda smiled. “All right, Taylor. You do this presentation. If you wow them, you’ve got your credit.”
I sighed. “Thank you.”
“Wait a minute, Taylor. I’m not finished. If you choke and ruin the chance for my budget increases, you might as well pack up your desk and start shopping that shallow résumé of yours. Do I make myself clear?”
I sat up straighter. “Crystal.”
In the board meeting I’m next on the agenda, and the palms of my hands are slick with perspiration. To make matters worse, Spencer Oldman is sitting front and center, looking fine as ever. What was I thinking giving this man the boot, and how am I going to get through this thing with him staring at me?
Brian Jeffries, head of Technology Development, says, “Next we have Taylor Johnson with Deposit Assessments.”
I feel myself walking up to the podium, but it seems like a dream. Actually, it’s more like an out-of-body experience. I can hear my voice, and it’s shaky at first, but strong and confident after a few sentences. I’m glancing down at my note cards from time to time, even though I can recite this thing from memory. I refuse to look at Spencer, but he had a snide grin on his face when I started my presentation. I finally get to the end of my research and open the floor to questions. I quickly glance over at Glenda, and if her facial expression means anything, I guess she’s pleased.
I answer a couple of easy questions about the curriculum of the proposed training classes. I can tell that these executives are really more interested in bringing this meeting to an end than in grilling me about a few training issues. Just as I am about to thank the managers for listening and sit down, Spencer raises his hand.
Surprised, I try to hide it. “Yes, Mr. Oldman. Do you have a question?”
“Yes, I do, and I’m surprised that no one else has brought this up. I notice here that you are requesting a large amount of training dollars for your staff. How can you justify this? Can’t your people use the computer-based training courses that we’ve already purchased for the entire corporation?”
“Yes, Mr. Oldman,” I answer, knowing what he wants to hear. “We fully intend to integrate those CBTs into our training plan.”
“Your team is not a hands-on technical group,” Spencer continues, “and despite this deluge of research, I think our training budget would be better spent elsewhere.”
Glenda was prepared for this objection, but I don’t think she expected it from Spencer. She looks offended that her so-called friend is offering a valid objection to her budget increases.
I recite verbatim Glenda’s response, as written in my notes. “Mr. Oldman, in order for our problem management staff to be as cutting-edge as the competition, we need to employ an aggressive career training track. Every major financial corporation in the industry has realized the need to invest in problem and incident management, especially with concerns that have surfaced since nine-eleven.”
“Well, now, that was quite insightful for an administrative assistant.”
I ignore Spencer’s obvious slight and ask, “Are there any other questions?”
When no one raises his or her hand, I make my way back to my seat next to Glenda. She smiles and mouths the word “congratulations.” I hope she plans on doing more than that. She better be talking about giving me a raise or something.
After the meeting is adjourned, I rush out of the room and back to my desk. I don’t want to give Spencer another chance at embarrassing me. He probably thought that he would ruffle me with his hardball questions, but that just goes to show how much he doesn’t know about me.
Glenda walks up to my desk, grinning like the Cheshire cat. “Taylor, I can almost smell the money! I’ll find out for sure on Monday, but Mr. Jeffries has already given me an unofficial green light. Thank you for your hard work and dedication. Congratulations!”
“Thank you for affording me the opportunity.”
“I think you afforded yourself the opportunity, but I like that.” Glenda laughs. “You are a real go-getter. I really like the way you brushed off Spencer Oldman. He was clearly trying to sabotage you. What was up with that?”
I should’ve known that this nosy heifer was going to try to get all in my business. I’m not giving her the satisfaction, though, and I’m not going to verify any of the office gossip. She can go on wondering just like the rest of Spencer’s groupies.