Chapter 38: And Sometimes It Stinks To Be Big

January 23, 1996, Chicago, Illinois

“Father, bless!” I said, greeting Father Basil with upturned palms.

“Bless you, Stephen,” he said as I kissed his hand.

The waiter showed us to a quiet table along the wall of Roditys in Greektown. He took our drink orders and was back quickly. We placed our food orders right away and he left to put them in with the kitchen.

“I’m not quite sure how to address this, so I’m just going to ask you bluntly. Are you the father of Michelle’s baby?”

I shook my head, “No, I’m not. There is no possible way for that to be the case. I had a vasectomy in 1991. I take it she refused to tell you?”

He nodded, “I’m sorry for the blunt accusation, but her refusal to name the father and your history led me to that as the most logical conclusion. That was reinforced by the fact that she moved out of your house.”

“Actually, I’d say that would be the exact opposite,” I said. “If she were having my baby, I’d have done everything in my power to convince her to stay. And to continue to work for me.”

“That was news as well. I didn’t realize she’d left your employ until it came up on Sunday. You two had some kind of falling out, but she hasn’t been forthcoming about it.”

“And I can’t say anything because it isn’t my place. She’ll need to tell you herself. I’m just glad she’s going to church.”

“You thought she might not?”

“When I visited her at Melissa’s she didn’t have any icons in her room. That is very much not like her.”

“She does now. She had me bless her room last Sunday afternoon. It’s that time of year.”

I nodded, “I know. Dave and Julia had Father Stephen from the Greek Cathedral bless our offices last week.”

“I’m pleased you allow that.”

I shrugged, “It’s done outside of normal business hours, so it won’t cause any trouble with my generally agnostic or atheistic staff.”

“I see that a lot with computer people,” Father Basil said. “They tend to be libertarian and agnostic, or atheistic.”

“That is pretty common.”

“And you?”

“I still have an affinity for the Orthodox world view, though my thinking is more Buddhist than anything at this point. Some things in my life can’t be reconciled to the Church. And I’d prefer not to have that debate, please.”

“I understand. I’m curious; would you be willing to do something for me?”

“I suppose it depends on what it is.”

“A financial seminar - you know, budgeting, investing, that kind of thing.”

“I might. Why me and why now?”

He sighed, “You were exactly right about the investments that Bill made. The building fund lost 95% of its value and my retirement fund lost 80%. I never did talk to that CPA you suggested.”

“Let me guess, all four of those companies collapsed.”

“Yes.”

“I’d be happy to do it, but I’m concerned that Bill would interfere.”

“I cleared having you do it with the Bishop. He and I will take care of Bill.”

“What I gather from others is that the parish finances depend heavily on his contributions.”

“As I said, let us deal with him. We’d like you to do the seminar. And I’d like the contact information for your CPA, please.”

I nodded and took the small notepad I carried from my pocket and wrote out Bruce Grady’s name and number which I retrieved from my cell phone. I tore off the sheet and handed it to Father Basil, then put the notepad away. I took my checkbook from the same pocket and wrote out a check to the church and handed it to Father Basil.

“I know Jesse isn’t in a position to donate, so consider this as from him. Half to the building fund and half to your retirement fund.”

“This is very generous, Stephen!”

“Consider it my way of saying ‘thank you’ for caring for Jesse and Michelle.”

He nodded as he folded the check and put it in his pocket. We had a good conversation over our meal, catching up on the previous two years, and when we finished, I received his blessing. He promised to call with some proposed dates for the seminar, and then I headed back to the NIKA offices which were only a few blocks away.

January 25, 1996, Chicago, Illinois

“Steve, Dave has Eleanora Velt ready for you, OK to bring her up?”

“Yes. Thanks, Kimmy.”

Two minutes later, Dave brought in his candidate for the open development position he had. After slipping off her shoes and putting on the soft slippers I indicated, I led her into the office. She wasn’t comfortable with the Japanese furniture, so I led her to the «yōshitsu» room where she sat on the couch and I sat in a leather wingback chair.

“«Technische Universiteit Delft»?” I asked. (“Delft Technical University?”)

“«Jij spreekt Nederlands?»?” she asked in surprise. (“You speak Dutch?”)

I grinned, “«Alleen maar een beetje». I speak fluent Swedish, passable Spanish, some German, and a smattering of Japanese.” (“Only a little.”)

“Where did you learn Dutch?”

“I was in Amsterdam just over a year ago. I learn languages fairly quickly. When did you come to the US?”

“About eight months ago. My dad works for ING and came over to assist with the takeover of Barings after the collapse last year. He’s based in Manhattan.”

“That has to do with the ‘Nick Leeson’ incident?”

“Yes. ING was nominated to buy Barings for £1.”

“A friend of mine is in the financial sector,” I replied. “She and I discussed that when it happened. She predicted something like this. I see job history for the Netherlands, but nothing for the US.”

“There were issues with getting a work permit which were finally sorted about a month ago. Because I’m twenty-five, it was a bit more difficult. The residence visa wasn’t an issue.”

“I see you are originally from Delft, in addition to going to school there.”

“Did you visit Delft when you were in the Netherlands?”

“Yes. I bought several pieces of ‘Delft blauw’. There’s actually one on my desk - a windmill. How has your job search gone?”

“Tough, because I don’t have any references to give here.”

“I have no problem with checking references in the Netherlands. If they don’t speak English by some odd chance, I have a friend there who could make the calls on our behalf.”

I was thinking of Hans Oostrum, who I was sure would do me that kind of favor.

“My references all speak English, so that’s no problem.”

“What do you think of the US so far?” I asked.

“Compared to the Netherlands, it’s huge. I drove down from a friend’s house in Grand Rapids. She’s someone I met when she was an exchange student years ago. I could drive to Warsaw from Amsterdam in the same time it took me to get from New York to Grand Rapids!”

I nodded, “About eleven-and-a-half hours, right?”

“Yes. May I ask how you speak Swedish?”

“I was an exchange student, like your friend. That was 1979-80. I’ve been back a few times, and have a Swedish friend who moved here to get her medical degree.”

“The doctor you’re married to?”

I shook my head, “No. My wife is from Texas. Who told you about my wife?”

“Tasha mentioned it in our conversation. May I ask about the decor?”

“I spent five weeks in Japan studying with a senior instructor of my karate school. It had a great impact and I very much like the Japanese style.”

“It’s cool, but sitting that low to the floor during an interview seemed a bit odd.”

“It’s OK. You’re comfortable with moving to Chicago?”

“Yes. My dad comes here on business regularly, and I’ve been here a few times with him. I like the city. Obviously, I’ll have to find a place to live.”

“We can help with that if things work out. Did Dave tell you how this interview would go?”

“He said he couldn’t predict what you would ask, but not to be surprised if it was short.”

I nodded, “I think I only have one question for you, and it’s not really a question, just a small test.”

I slid a piece of paper to her with nine dots arranged in a three-by-three grid.

“Using four straight lines, and without lifting the pencil, connect all the dots. The lines may cross, if necessary.”

She laughed softly and quickly made the necessary four lines.

“You’ve seen that one before?” I asked.

She nodded, “A professor used it to teach us that obvious solutions aren’t always obvious! I didn’t get it until he showed us the answer. Then it made perfect sense and is obvious. Most of us didn’t think to draw the lines outside the outer dots.”

“Do you have any questions for me?”

“No, I don’t think so. I really appreciate your time. It’s been difficult to get interviews, as I’ve said.”

“No worries. Let me get you back to Dave.”

We got up and walked back to Kimmy’s area where Eleanora and I both changed shoes. We went downstairs and I left her with Dave, then returned to my office.

“She’s going to need help finding a place here in Chicago,” I said. “When Dave brings the hiring forms, work with Eve to get her a temporary place. Obviously, confirm it all with her first.”

“Will do. You’re sure Dave will hire her?”

“He should be!” Dave laughed from behind me. “I take it no veto?”

“No. Between her cover letter and her CV, and our brief conversation, I’m sure she’s a good fit. European attitudes are pretty much in line with our corporate culture. And «Technische Universiteit Delft» is a great school with a very long history. Their «Meiden studeren techniek» days are perfectly in line with our corporate principles.”

“Their what?” Kimmy asked.

“‘Girls study technology’. Historically, the students were mostly male and in the early 90s the university made a huge outreach effort to bring in female students. She graduated in 1993 so she probably was already enrolled when they started.”

“How do you know about that?” Dave asked.

“I read about it in The Economist. You really should read it. In fact, Kimmy, please arrange subscriptions for everyone at the director level and up. Check first to see if they have one, obviously. I know Cindi does. We’ll reimburse her for hers.

“Will do.”

“That means you, too!” I grinned.

“I already have a subscription! You talked about it so much when I first started, I decided I needed to read it to stay on top of things!”

“Which is just one more reason you are in the position you’re in.”

“I’ll get the hiring papers to you by Monday,” Dave said to Kimmy. “Steve, OK for a verbal?”

“Yes.”

“Good. She’s waiting downstairs. I’ll go tell her.”

“Thanks.”

I went back to my desk and sat down. I took a stack of consultant résumés from my ‘In’ box and began reviewing them. We were hiring a total of eight, and Charlie had asked me to look at résumés before she decided who to bring in for face-to-face interviews. I wasn’t thrilled with the idea, but given we’d have to fly people in, it made sense.

January 28, 1996, Chicago, Illinois

“I don’t usually read science fiction,” Maria Cristina said at lunch on Sunday. “But this is really interesting. It’s more philosophy than science fiction.”

“Which is why we suggested it,” Kara said. “And I think you’ll find some parallels to our situation here. Some won’t be obvious until you become more involved here.”

“My mom asked me why I was reading a ‘subversive’ book!”

I laughed, “That’s probably the best word to describe my entire life and philosophy. But that book was banned from many school libraries because of its approach to relationships. There was also a patently false rumor that it was associated with Charles Manson. The problem, if you will, with Stranger in a Strange Land is that Heinlein deliberately challenged prevalent social values, which, as you’ll see, is something we do here as well. All of the same topics are up for discussion and reevaluation - monogamy, religion, money, the fear of death, and the political system.”

“Up until a few years ago,” Kara added, “Steve had Sunday afternoon Rap Sessions where we talked about all of these things. And they WERE subversive. There were college kids whose parents barred them from coming back because of how we challenged social norms. That was my one concern - that you come from a very conservative environment.”

Maria Cristina smiled, “You mean a Cuban, Roman Catholic household which is rabidly anti-communist?”

“That about sums it up,” I chuckled. “How will your mom react?”

“Badly. But I think I have a lot to learn that they haven’t taught me at Our Lady of Charity. I don’t think the nuns would appreciate me reading a book which espouses what amounts to ‘free love’!”

I nodded, “Nor would they appreciate the negative characterizations of most organized religion. I think you’ll find that my basic philosophy on that can be summed by the following statement: do what your faith tells you, not what you’re told. In other words, embrace the philosophy, but reject the dogma.”

“I doubt the nuns or my mom would agree with that.”

“So do I! Did your mom say anything else about the book or about you coming here?”

“Not really. She’s allowed me to mostly do what I want, but she lets me know what she thinks is right very clearly. I usually do what she says to keep the peace. She’s not mean or anything.”

“May I ask why you moved to Chicago?”

“When Mom and Dad divorced, she decided she wanted to be away from him. She had a friend here who could get her the job at Our Lady of Charity and helped her find our apartment.”

“And your dad?”

“He was never around very much. He went where the work was and sent money home to Mom and me. He and Mom had a fight about something and the next thing I knew, we were moving to Chicago.”

“How long have you been working at Jewel?”

“Since right after I turned sixteen, so February of ‘94.”

“What day is your birthday?”

“February 14th,” she replied with a smile. “Dad called me his Valentine’s Day present.”

“Besides school and work, what do you do?”

“Hang out with my friends. I don’t have a lot of free time between school, homework, and work.”

“Do you go to church?”

“Every Sunday morning with my mom. She’s very devout.”

“And you?”

Maria Cristina shrugged, “Sometimes, I guess. I kind of go back and forth. But it keeps my mom happy, and I don’t hate it. And really, it’s forty-five minutes on Sunday morning, which isn’t really a burden. Do you go to church at all?”

“Rarely. Only Jesse, my eldest son, goes to church. He attends a Russian Orthodox church.”

“How did that happen?”

I smiled, “It’s a long story, but the short version is we took him there while we were exploring our faith and he decided he wanted to keep going when we stopped. We can tell you the whole story.”

“What church did you go to when you were little?”

“I was raised Roman Catholic, Kara and Jess both went to Bible churches. None of us is particularly religious, though I’d say we’re all spiritual in one way or another.”

“I was wondering because I saw the icons, but also the Indian and Japanese religious stuff. And the other statue.”

“Loki,” I chuckled. “The Norse god of chaos. He’s about the best representative for my life I can think of!”

“It doesn’t seem chaotic.”

“Let us tell you some stories,” Kara laughed.

They spent the next hour telling the tamest events of my life, leading to lots of laughter and convincing me further that Maria Cristina was, indeed, mature enough to handle the situation she was walking into.

January 30, 1996, Chicago, Illinois

On Tuesday I interviewed the three proposed members of the new security team Sam had been tasked with building. Wei Tsao, Débora Cintrón Alarcón, and Tuqaa Malouf were all good candidates, and when the last candidate had left, Sam came to my office to discuss them.

“I’m happy with all of them,” I said. “Which one is your proposed team lead?”

“Débora would be my choice. Megan really liked her, and I think that’s an important factor given we’re entering this joint venture.”

“Agreed. Megan spoke with all three candidates?”

“Yes. She actually spoke with five total, and these three are her top choices as well as mine.”

“Good. Did Elyse get the salary survey information back from the HR consultant?”

“Yes, and they’re all in the correct range. I already spoke to Julia about that. Where are we going to put them?”

“Check with Eve, as she has the final say, but I think she intends them to share the large office on this floor at the front of the building.”

“Will do. Do you need to talk to Julia?”

“No. Just have her sign the hiring forms and get them to Kimmy.”

“Will do. I already have work for them that Brenda and I are handling now with some help from Cecelia in Colorado Springs. And Cindi and Charlie are working on more security audits. Once the new team is on board, Ford, Jackson, and Finch will start feeding us work.”

“Perfect. Good job, Sam!”

“Thanks.”

She left, and I went back to my desk. We were expanding quickly which was something that always concerned me, but Elyse assured me that the revenue was there and Cindi’s pipeline reports looked good, so my worries were somewhat assuaged, but I feared losing control of the organization. We were, in effect, getting too big for me to know everything that went on. And, actually, if I was honest, that had happened when we’d expanded after taking on the former BLS customers. My original thought of making an offer for a recovered Lone Star no longer looked as attractive as it once had.

January 31, 1996, Chicago, Illinois

“Steve, Michelle York is here to see you,” Lucas announced on Wednesday morning.

“Send her up, please. She doesn’t need an escort.”

“Will do.”

A minute later Michelle walked into the office. Kimmy jumped up and hugged her and I waited to see what Michelle would do. She smiled and walked over to me but didn’t move to hug me. She slipped off her shoes and we walked into the «washitsu» area and sat down on the «zabuton». Kimmy asked about refreshments and went to get my green tea and Michelle’s 7-up. She was back quickly, and when she left, I turned on the Japanese music loud enough for us to have a private conversation, even with Penny at her desk.

“How are you?” I asked.

“OK. I guess you spoke with Father Basil.”

“Yes. I’m worried about you.”

“I know. I just really needed to be away from you and everyone else for a time.”

“I’m glad you came to see me. Are you taking care of yourself?”

Michelle smiled, “You know I am because you ask Melissa about me every time you speak to her.”

“Busted,” I grinned. “I care for you, Michelle. No matter what else happens, I’ll always care for you.”

“I know. I also know you can’t be what I need you to be. I made a mistake, or maybe it’s better to say I deceived myself. You aren’t the person I want, but you are the person to whom I gave myself and who’s here. Or maybe it’s better to say, you aren’t the person I wanted you to become. And I was foolish to think you could change the way I needed you to.”