Chapter 7

Brent wasn't surprised to see Henry with Lloyd when their car pulled up next to his. He was sitting at a picnic bench and stood as the two men approached. In front of him were a bag of deli sandwiches and several cans of ice tea.

"Mornin' Brent," Lloyd said in a serious tone, but with his hand extended.

"I see you needed a partner on this call," Brent said with a faint smile.

Henry shook Brent's hand and looked him straight in the eye. "I heard what happened yesterday. I can't guess what's going through your head right now, but I'll bet it isn't good."

"Adam told me," Lloyd explained.

"Figured he would. It wasn't going to be a secret anyway. I'll bet Dixon is having fun with it, though. I wondered why he was there," the grim-faced salesman said.

"Fuck Dixon. I'll look after that bastard. I let H.R. talk me out of firing him last Christmas and now look what's happened. He's gone ... take it to the bank!" Henry spat.

"Yah, well, it was Jeanette on that stage, Henry. I'm still trying to understand what in hell would make her think that was OK." The bewildered look on his face mirrored his every thought.

"There's only one way to find out," Lloyd said. "Ask her. You won't know anything until you talk to her. You guys have been married a long time. Strange things can happen to people. She may be able to make you understand. You'll only know if you talk to her."

"Yah, well ... I know I'm going to have to sooner or later, but I can't handle it right now. I'm too fucked up to think straight and I'm not sure I wouldn't do or say something I couldn't take back later. I need some time to cool off." His voice was steadier now and he had better command of his thoughts.

"What can we do to help?" Lloyd asked.

"Well ... I guess this won't come as a big surprise, but I've decided to resign." With that, he reached into his jacket pocket and withdrew an envelope. "Here's my letter."

"Hey ... whoa ... you can't quit now. You're one step away from my job. You know it's there for you," Lloyd exclaimed.

"Lloyd ... think about it. How am I going to run a sales department after what happened yesterday? I'll never have the respect of the guys. What about social events? Jeanette wouldn't be able to show her face. The gossip, the stories — you know better than I do how people will react." Brent spoke with the voice of finality. He had thought it out and he was convinced there was no alternative.

It was Henry who brought some clarity to the discussion. "Look, Brent, I want you to do something as a personal favor to me. I want you to take a paid leave of absence. It won't be common knowledge and I can't let it go on indefinitely, but whatever comes from this, you still have a wife and family to look after. Give me some time to think too. Give me a chance to look at what options we've got. The last thing I want is to lose a good employee. This is a rotten situation, but let's not assume it isn't fixable. Can you do that?"

"Yah ... sure ... I can do that. I appreciate what you're doing, Henry ... Lloyd. I hate like hell to leave, but I don't see any other way and still have some self-respect. I'll let you know where I'll be. For now, just call my cell."

"In the meantime, this letter will remain in my desk, unopened. I just hope it stays that way," HENRY said.

They ate their sandwiches almost in silence as the warmth of the sun helped improve the atmosphere of the meeting. They exchanged small talk and Brent reviewed what was urgent on his agenda. Adam, Johnny, and Lloyd would look after the work. They had already volunteered. Brent smiled as he thought of his friends. At last, the lunch was over and Brent stood up.

"I'll be in touch, Lloyd. I'm pretty sure I will go back home in a day or so. I'm sure Jeanette is upset and the kids will be too. I can't leave them like that. I just need to get my act together so that I can try and talk to Jeanette and see what we do next."

The three men shook hands solemnly and walked to their cars. Brent sat down again and watched the two senior managers drive away. They didn't appear to be talking. That wasn't a surprise. He was sure they would be thinking about what they had just heard.

As he sat there, he wondered when he would be able to talk to Jeanette and not explode or attack. When would he have the self-control to try and listen and understand? In the meantime, he needed to talk to someone who didn't have a vested interest -- someone who was a friend, and yet not intimately involved in their lives. There was only one person he could think of — Walter Francis.