Chapter 2

I know what I want and this ain't it!

After I had dropped Jo off at the airport, I went back to my office and called the home catering service again to make sure our first meals would be delivered tonight. I'm no cook and it wasn't likely I'd have the time or inclination to learn in the next months. We couldn't eat at restaurants every night, so, at Jo's suggestion, I called a home catering service and discussed a series of menus for our evening meals. We could cope with breakfasts and lunches, but I wanted a proper diet for our main meal. I'd give them a two week trial and then decide if they measured up. The individual meals were decided by committee; Pete, Lindsay and me. It was a bit of fun, since I wasn't going to surrender to pizza and fish sticks as a steady diet. Everyone got a favorite choice and then we all voted on the rest. By the time we were done, we had chosen fourteen meals, only three of which were repeats. Naturally, the three repeats were our individual favorites.

There was no phone call from Joanne that first night and to be honest, I didn't expect one. The next morning there was an e-mail from her giving me the apartment's phone number and address. I responded with a hi-how-are-you but got no response. I called the apartment phone number but there was no answer and no answering machine picked up. I called her cell, but she didn't answer that either and I left a message, asking her to call tonight. She called just after eight. She had just come back to the apartment and hadn't had dinner yet.

"Hi honey, how are you?" she said in a tired voice.

"Hi Jo, I'm fine. Kids are OK. You sound tired."

"I am. I've been going since seven this morning. They're not giving me much time to get up and running, so I guess it's going to be like this for a while... just like we expected."

"Pace yourself, Jo. Look after your health. You'll be no good to them or us if you burn yourself out."

"It's a little early for that advice, don't you think." she laughed.

"Yah, I suppose. I'm just rehearsing my speeches for later." I returned the laugh. "So, did they give you a big fancy office and lots of secretaries to run and get coffee for you?"

"Oh sure... actually, I have a beautiful office with a view of the lake. It's on the twenty-first floor and it's huge. I do have a secretary, but she doesn't do coffee."

"So, what's on your agenda for the first week?" I asked.

"Meetings with the division heads and then with my boss and his troops. I expect them to give me the targets for our group and then it's up to me to figure out how we meet them. "

"Ah, true excitement!" I laughed.

"Well, one shock I got today was the ninety day reporting cycle. They have to report to the investors every quarter and that means we have to report what we expect for sales and new business every ninety days and throw in profit projections. Talk about getting in the way of getting the job done. We'll probably spend at least a week every quarter just telling them what we think we're going to do and then if it doesn't happen, we'll have to spend another week telling them why it didn't happen."

"Didn't you have to file these reports in Bloomington?"

"Sure, but it took about a half day and unless something really strange happened, we never heard anything more about it." She sounded genuinely surprised at this corporate regime.

"Welcome to the big leagues, babe!" I tried to keep the conversation light.

"I guess. Look, Mark, I haven't eaten and I'm starving. How about I call tomorrow and I'll have some more time."

"Sure babe. Take care of yourself. Love you, Jo."

"Love to you too Mark. Talk to you tomorrow."

Our phone calls for the rest of the week were all very similar. By Thursday, I knew she wouldn't be home for the weekend. She had meetings scheduled for Saturday with the out-of-town managers and would need to prepare reports on Sunday. I let the kids know and neither of them was surprised. Lindsay seemed to be quite emotionless about it and I promised myself to keep an eye on her. I had a germ of an idea to get myself some help in being an effective father for her. One of my neighbors, Pat Carver, was a single mother with a sixteen year old daughter. I was hoping she could give me some insight on what to expect and how to handle the unknown territory of a teenage girl. I was just grateful that Lindsay had already begun her periods and I didn't have to deal with that. Jo had been pretty frank with Lindsay, so I didn't expect to run into many surprises, but I was aware that some of her contemporaries were already sexually active and I was deeply concerned that she might succumb to some boy if she didn't have the right kind of guidance. I knew who her regular girl friends were, but that didn't mean they weren't vulnerable to the same pressures.

We had known Pat for some time and when I discussed the idea with Jo, she was enthusiastically in favor. Jo too was concerned with Lindsay, confessing that she realized she wasn't her usual upbeat self and wasn't very warm toward her mother. They had talked on the phone a couple of times, but the conversations were short and our daughter seemed reluctant to even take the phone. I called Pat from work and arranged a get together with her on the weekend. I decided on a barbeque that would include Pat and her daughter, Alicia and her son, Brandon. Brandon was fourteen and seemed like a nice kid. Alicia was sixteen going on twenty one. She was developing physically and had an independent attitude that would put many adults off; including me. Pat seemed to recognize it for what it was; growing up. The barbeque was a great success despite Alicia making it plain that she was only attending to humor her mother.

I found Pat to be very comfortable to talk to and I thought these weekend get-togethers might be a good habit to get into. I was grateful for her company and her advice and good humor was welcome. She was an attractive brunette with a lovely figure and deep brown eyes. She was a year or two older than I was, but looked several years younger, much like Jo. She was a widow; her husband having been killed in a highway accident five or six years ago. I was surprised there wasn't a man or several men in her life. I wondered how I would find out about her social life. I decided I was getting ahead of myself. My wife had been gone less that a week and I was already entertaining single women at my home. In some quarters, that might raise eyebrows.

One of the reasons for inviting Pat to our house was to give her the opportunity to observe Lindsay first hand. She may recognize a pattern of behavior that I would not. In getting to know her better, I almost forgot the purpose of her being here. It was Pat that reminded me.

"Lindsay is really missing her mom, Mark. She's feels like she's been abandoned by her. It's not going to be easy for her to get over this. Fifteen is a very impressionable age and now she knows her brother Pete is going too. It's pretty traumatic for a young girl."

"I'm sure you're right, Pat. That's what I see too. The question is; what do we do about it? I mean, what do I do about it?" I finished sheepishly. I hadn't meant to put the monkey on her back.

"Relax, Mark." she smiled. "Just be here for her and make sure you don't turn Jo into the enemy. You don't want to reinforce her current attitude and you do want to show her she's wrong. It's going to be how you manage your relationship with Jo that counts the most."

I looked at Pat very carefully. I sensed that she had recognized all was not well with Jo's acceptance of the new job and our relationship. I know I hadn't said anything to her, but I wondered if Jo might have. I needed to find out somehow. Did Jo have the same sense of foreboding that I had? I could only hope not.

"You're a smart lady, Pat. I hope we can 'consult' on this and other matters regularly." I smiled

"It would be a pleasure." she replied.

Jo came home to Eden Prairie the second weekend and we had a wonderful two days with her. She was very enthusiastic about her new job and was obviously anxious to tell us all about it. She arrived at the airport on Saturday morning and the whole family was there to greet her. I had invited our parents for Sunday dinner and she was very pleased, but warned that she would have to leave early to catch a plane back to Chicago. It was the only downer of the visit and on Saturday night we made love like it was the old days; only on steroids. It was as if we hadn't been together for months instead of just two weeks. Perhaps we were trying to make up for all the bad days before she left and it was exciting, if not exhausting. We slept in until nine the next morning and Jo was first up to make a special big breakfast for us. Even Lindsay was smiling and enjoying the day. I drove her to the airport on Sunday evening and we kissed and hugged for several minutes as we reminded ourselves how much we loved each other. I have to say, it cheered me up and yet her parting was just as sad as the first time she had left. I had to be honest with myself; I wasn't handling her absence very well.

The first week Jo was gone I had put out feelers to various agencies that my business might be for sale to the 'right party'. By the third week I was beginning to get some feedback. A couple of companies had called and asked if I was serious and what kind of money I was talking about. I gave them my standard answer; yes it might be for sale for the right party at the right price. I would be happy to direct them to an independent appraiser to evaluate the business and come up with a number. I would do the same and we could discuss the matter if I thought they were worthy bidders. I was determined to sell the business to someone who would value the customers and suppliers they way I thought they should be valued. I was disinterested in some faceless corporation coming in and assuming they could pillage the client list for the maximum return. I had hired an appraiser whose judgment I trusted to put a number on my business. I was anxious to hear his opinion. I knew it would be very close to the value I could expect to receive. To be truthful, I had no idea if the business was worth $100,000 or a million. I was only sure it was worth something.

My appraiser, Frank Stallworth, gave me a call on Wednesday of that third week. He suggested he would drop by my office at my convenience, so I invited him to lunch and we met at my favorite pub, The Blarney Stone. The Wednesday lunch crowd was fairly quiet and Frank and I were able to find a small booth near the back that would afford us some privacy. I ordered my usual pint of Harp and Frank had an iced tea. We exchanged small talk for a few minutes and then, after ordering our lunch, Frank got down to business.

"I think you'll be pleasantly surprised at the value I believe your business should bring, Mark." He had my undivided attention.

"It's always hard to evaluate a business that is based entirely on referral and intangibles, but in my experience, you come out at the top of the charts." He had me smiling at this point. "I think you should look for at least $1.5 million before saying yes."

"Are you kidding?" I exclaimed. I'm not normally at a loss for words, but I was having a hard time digesting the number he had just quoted.

"You have to remember, Mark, that 'value' in the insurance business is in the actuarial numbers and when all those small and medium size policies are contributing each month, the profit to your suppliers is very handsome. But what makes your business so attractive are the specialty policies that you have developed. They are the goldmine that your buyers are really going to go crazy for. It may mean you can sell for a good deal more that my estimate, but whatever, your foresight in that market segment is really going to pay off for you."

"I think I just won the lottery." I said slumping back in my seat. "Can you imagine? All those years of work. I had no clue it was worth this much."

"No substitute for hard work, my friend. It's only worth that much because you made it worth that much. Congratulations!" he said sincerely.

"Wow, thanks. I guess now, the rest is in my hands. I've got to find the right kind of buyer."

My lunch was delicious and I treated myself to another Harp while Frank satisfied himself with a second iced tea. I was almost giddy with excitement and couldn't wait to tell Jo. I knew she would be surprised.

I hadn't talked to Jo for a couple of days. She said she was traveling and with the time change and meetings, she would try and call tonight. When I heard nothing by ten, I tried her cell phone, but there was no answer and I left a message. We had started out trying to talk to each other every day, but already that was becoming erratic. Again, she would not be here this weekend; more meetings or travel or both. Somehow the excitement of today's lunch had faded and I thought I might not tell her about Frank's evaluation until I had a firm bid in my hand. I was still dubious that I could have created a value of the size Frank was describing.

Jo didn't call on Thursday either and I was beginning to wonder if she remembered us. I knew she wouldn't be home this weekend, but I expected at least some contact from her. Again, I called her cell phone and again I was forced to leave a message. Late Friday afternoon she called home. Pete had gone to his ballgame, Lindsay was over at a friend's house and I was on my way home from the office. She left a message which was short and sounded rushed. She apologized for not calling earlier but was between meetings and airports and whatever and would try and call us on the weekend. I listened to the message by myself and then played it back again. I had that hollow, sinking feeling again. We had become less important and we were truly on our own. I did the only thing I could think of on a lonely Friday evening. I called Pat Carver and invited her to a barbeque dinner on Saturday. I was more relieved than delighted when she accepted. I had also invited her kids, but both were busy and with my two out on their usual Saturday activities, there would just be the two of us. After I had hung up, I became aware that the feeling that was most pervasive with me was loneliness.

Pat came over just before six on Saturday and since neither of us was terribly hungry, we decided to eat a little later and we could have a drink and a chat beforehand. Lindsay had eaten one of her 'favourites' as the imported dinners had become known and had skipped off to her friend's house just after Pat arrived. Lindsay was behaving like a typical teenage girl; up one minute and down the next. That part I had become accustomed to. Her attitude toward her mother, however, was something else again. She had virtually excommunicated her. She was subdued if not downright surly to Jo on the phone and their conversations were short and not very fulfilling. If Jo was alarmed, she wasn't reacting too strongly; usually dismissing it a typical teenage attitude. I wasn't convinced. She wasn't like that with me, Pete or even Pat. She was still active with her friends and it was plain her problem was with her mother.

"She's really got it in for Jo." I told Pat. "She's going to make her pay for leaving and so far she hasn't let up."

"It's still early, Mark. How is Jo reacting to her?"

"She doesn't seem to be perturbed by it surprisingly. I don't know if she's decided to ignore her attitude or what."

"Well, give Lindsay some time. It sounds like she's fine around home and at school. Am I right?"

"Yes. I can't see any difference so far. Pete's keeping an eye out for her too. He's aware of the tension between them." I revealed.

"What about you. How are you doing, Mark?"

I looked over at Pat and shrugged. "OK, I guess. I'm busy enough during the day that I don't dwell on it, but... at night... well..." my voice trailed off.

"Loneliness is an ugly state, Mark. I know that from experience. It can eat at you. I still feel it now and then." she said sympathetically.

"We've never been apart; even for a day. Except I guess when the kids were born and she was in the hospital. I didn't have to travel and when there were conventions, I always took Jo with me. I think that's what's making this so hard. We've never been apart." I was looking off into the distance, unfocussed and in a wistful mood; remembering how many nights we spent on this patio with each other, just sitting, talking; happy just to be together.

"That's pretty rare, Mark. I don't think there are many married couples today who could say that. Karl and I had a completely different lifestyle. He was on the road two weeks out of four. It was that way when I married him and it was that way the day he died. I only knew that lifestyle. I expected it, so it wasn't a problem." She talked as if it was an everyday occurrence.

I couldn't conceive of a life like that. "How did you get over it... I mean... the loneliness... after Karl's death?"

"I guess it was a matter of time. The hurt was bad at first. It got a little bit less as time went on. My folks helped a lot and so did Karl's mother. They were very supportive and I saw them quite a bit at first. It helped. Alicia was very hurt by it and I think she still mourns for him. Brandon seems to have come to terms with it. I guess it's not much different than Pete and Lindsay, is it?"