Chapter 3: Adjusting to teammates, Megan and Kelley

Jerry Bastian the Baltimore office manager met my flight and we stopped by a hotel to pick up Neill. He'd arrived the night before because he had a longer distance to travel.

I found Jerry to be a congenial man. He was helpful, answering our questions concerning locations and surrounding neighborhoods of the two buildings. I commended his knowledge of the area and he admitted that he'd always lived in the city.

Neill was a good choice to appraise the structures, and estimate the costs to refurbish the buildings. He'd done his homework, and studied the local building codes. He pointed out systems that would need to be updated, and the numbers he was quoting made me wonder if picking up a bargain was such a good idea. At a minimum, the fire suppression system would need to be updated. "Complying with the Americans with Disabilities Act is a given," Neill said.

As we were driving from one building to the next, Neill asked about Victor. I told him that Vic had resumed his part time job at the cabinet shop, and that he was staying in my apartment on Friday and Saturday nights. "He drove me to the airport in my car this morning," I added.

"He's a good kid. Tell him I asked about him," Neill said, and I assured him that I would.

The second building was in worse condition than the first one. But Jerry was adamant, saying the location made it valuable. We accepted his knowledge of the area, and took our time investigating the structure. Having heard the terms Neill used while we were checking the first building made it easier for me to grasp what he was saying. It was nearing two P.M. when we took one last tour, and determined that we were satisfied that we'd covered everything. Jerry was anxious to take us to lunch so we went.

I double checked the numbers on each building while we were waiting for our orders to be delivered. Neill looked over my notes and added clarification where I'd used abbreviations.

"What's a micrometer?" I asked. The question popped out of my mouth before I realized that I was thinking about the case study from the Business Management class I was taking.

"It's a precision measurement tool," Neill answered. "Why do you ask, Sammy?"

I was embarrassed that I'd let my inner thoughts surface. Jerry Bastian was looking on, obviously curious as to how I'd respond.

I had no other choice but to tell them what caused me to pose the question. I gave them a brief description of the case study, the steps I'd taken to analyze the problem, and the rationale that I'd used to conclude that the company should move into a new building.

Neill became incredibly interested in the case study. He peppered me with questions, some of which I couldn't answer because the description of the case had not addressed the points Neill was making.

We discussed the case while we were eating. I feared that we were leaving Jerry out of the conversation, but he didn't seem to mind.

"What's the distance of the move?" Neill asked.

"One hundred miles," I answered.

"Are the employees being offered moving expense?"

"Yes, but only one hundred and fifty out of two hundred agreed to relocate."

"What skill level are the fifty employees that refuse to move?" Neill asked.

"All the executives are moving, nine out of ten mid-level managers are going, eight of the ten supervisors agreed to move. Except for one inspector, the others are low-level workers." I said.

"How many inspectors are going to move?" Neill asked.

"I don't know. The one that was mentioned is called 'final inspection'. He works for the manager who's not going either. It didn't say how many inspectors are moving."

Jerry put his fork down, and exchanged a look with Neill. They smiled at each other, like they were on the same wave length.

"Let me tell you a story my father used to tell me," Jerry began. "My dad worked his entire life making name-brand clothing. There was a running argument between the executives as to which one was more important. The production manager claimed the place couldn't run without him. The head designer said the production department wouldn't have anything to do if it wasn't for him. The financial guy argued that financial matters were at the heart of the business, and the sales manager told the others that without sales, the factory would go out of business. My father said he listened to same debate every time the executives were gathered in the same room.

"Then, word was received one Monday morning that the mechanic that kept the sewing machines running had been killed in an automobile accident. My father said that by Wednesday of that week, two of the sewing machines were deemed beyond repair, and by Friday there were three more machines out of commission.

"The factory didn't go out of business, but it took months to replace the mechanic with someone who had that special touch it took to keep the sewing machines running."

"What did your father do at the company?" Neill asked.

"He was the president," Jerry said. "Every time my dad thought I was getting uppity when I was growing up, he told me the story. I thought it was applicable when I heard that the company was going to lose their final inspector."

Neill agreed with Jerry, and went on to tell me how precise measurement tools are expected to be made. "A breakdown in quality control could ruin a company's reputation," he said. "All things being equal, I would recommend staying put."

I told him that I would reconsider my conclusion. We let Jerry pay for lunch. When we were dropping Neill off at his airline, he handed me a booklet entitled, 'Americans with Disabilities Act of 1990', saying that he'd studied it, and recommended that I do the same.

As I shook hands with Jerry Bastian, he thanked me for convincing Mr. Oldham to relax the lease terms. "I was able to sign that tenant because of your insight," he said.

I telephoned Charlie before my flight took off, and he said he would pick me up at the airport. He was driving my car and when we got to his house, he invited me in to have dinner. I told him that I'd had a late lunch and wasn't hungry. I didn't tell him that I wanted to go to the apartment and call Kelley.

"Come on, I'm sick of being outnumbered," he pleaded and I went inside with him.

Debra and Megan were in the kitchen and it was soon evident that Debra had just burned her hand. She was screaming at the top of her voice. Megan was trying to console her. Charlie took Deb into the bathroom to dress the burn, and Megan and I were left alone in the kitchen.

There were a few tense moments before we looked at each other and burst into laughter. I wondered if she was thinking the same as me, that we had to stop being alone together.

She seemed disoriented, like she didn't know what to do next. "What are you making?" I asked.

"I don't know. Debra was taking the chicken out of the oven when she burned her hand."

I opened the oven door and found three chicken breasts in a pan. Obviously, they weren't planning on my staying for dinner. "Do you have any rice?" I asked, remembering how Doug and Phyllis had stretched two chicken breasts to feed four of us on our first camping trip. She produced a small box of rice. I read the directions and dumped the contents into water.

"Do you have some green peppers and onions?" I asked and she said she didn't think so.

Remembering a concoction Penelope had made, I found a can of cream of mushroom soup and added it to the rice. Megan made salad while I cut the chicken breasts into small chunks and added them to the rice.

Just when we were sitting down to eat, Victor knocked on the door, wanting to know if they had heard what time I was coming back. Charlie invited Victor to have dinner with us. Since I wasn't very hungry, I gave him my seat at the table, and finished eating at the counter.

I took a lot of kidding about my cooking. When we were finished eating, Megan told Debra to relax and began clearing the table. Victor offered to help with the dishes, saying that since I'd done the cooking, he wanted to do his part.

Megan and I exchanged a glance and again, I wondered if she was thinking the same as me. It was just as well that I wouldn't be helping her with the dishes.

I really was anxious to go to the apartment and call Kelley, but since I had to wait for Victor to finish his work in the kitchen, I told Charlie and Debra about my trip to Baltimore. I was describing the deplorable condition of the second building when Megan came into the living room, saying that Victor was finishing up in the kitchen.

There was something about her wistful expression, or it may have been the way she brushed a loose strand of hair away from her eye, but I got the feeling Megan wanted to talk to me.

"Hey, Vic, I'll meet you outside," I yelled in the direction of the kitchen.

I thanked Charlie and Debra for dinner and Deb thanked me for cooking the wonderful recipe. I stepped outside, the description of the Baltimore building forgotten. Megan followed.

"Would you mind running with me tomorrow?" she asked. It was a simple question, no preamble, no explanation, nothing more.

"Sure," I said, spontaneously, nothing more.

Victor came outside. "Ready?" he asked and I told him that I was.

Megan disappeared inside and we left.

"Man!" Victor exclaimed. "If a girl looked at me that way, I'd have her in the sack before she knew my name."

"It's not like that, Vic," I said, already resolved to avoid discussing Megan with him. He must have heard it in my voice because he didn't say more. I told him that Neill had inquired about him and that led to a discussion of the Fenton family.

We went into the apartment, me to my study room while Victor headed to the bathroom. I was on the phone with Kelley when he stuck his head into the room to say he would see me later. I waved goodbye and we resumed our conversation.

I gave Kelley the highlights of my trip to Baltimore, and she brought me up to date on what was happening at her office, what she and Phyllis had talked about, and how much she was looking forward to her trip to Pontiac. I told her that I was looking forward to her visit, too, promising that I would send the gang home early on Friday night, and that I wouldn't play tennis. She asked if she should pack anything special and, taking the hint, I offered to take her to dinner at Stella's.

What I didn't tell her was anything about my studies, having dinner at Charlie's house or that I was going to run with Megan the next morning. I wondered if there was anything she wasn't telling me. We ended the call by confessing our love for each other, promising to talk the next day.

As I booted my computer, I thought of the way Megan had asked me to run with her. Was the river route proving too dangerous? Had she had trouble navigating the terrain, or had she seen something threatening along the river bank? What time were we to meet, and where?

I compiled my report on the two Baltimore buildings and sent it to Mr. Oldham, copying Neill and Wanda. And then, in personal notes, I told Mr. Oldham that I could not recommend the purchase of either building. To Neill, I asked that he check for omissions and errors in my report, and in my message to Wanda, I told her to do nothing until she got instructions from my dad or me.

It was eight-thirty on Saturday night. I opened the booklet Neill had given me on the A.D.A. and must have fallen asleep without turning the reading light off or setting my alarm clock.

Victor woke me, saying Megan was waiting for me in the kitchen.

"What time is it?" I asked, looking at him and seeing that he was wearing boxer shorts. He didn't know. I found my jockstrap, running shorts and shoes and a T-shirt before heading to the bathroom.

As Victor had said, Megan was in the kitchen, looking somewhere between splendid and cute. Her ponytail swiveled with her head, her face had a scrubbed look and her attire matched the enthusiasm we shared for the sport.

"I borrowed Charlie's car," she said, as if that explained the reason she was in my kitchen at ... what time was it, anyway?

We set out on the same route I'd shown her the first time we'd run together. I didn't ask if she'd experienced trouble on the river route, and she didn't offer an explanation as to why she'd chosen to run with me on this Sunday morning in September, 1992.

"How's he treating you?" I asked, pointing to Doctor Mercer's house as we passed the street where he lived with his family.

"Okay, I guess. I hope you didn't tell him that we're friends," she said.

"I haven't seen him since school started. I suppose I should check to see if he's given up running, or just changed the times he runs."

"I wouldn't mind running at night," she said, adding, "Charlie may not want me taking his car, though."

"I could pick you up," I offered.

"That would be too much trouble, driving to my house and then taking me home after we run."

Was she inviting me to be her running partner? "I don't mind running in the morning, especially on weekends," I said, before remembering that Kelley was coming next weekend.

"We could call each other when we have the urge to run and meet half way," she suggested.

"That sounds like a plan," I said.

"Nothing would be set in stone. If you don't want to go out, just say so," she said, looking at me for confirmation. Of course, I told her that was agreeable with me.

And that's how we formed our running alliance. There was no set schedule and Megan made it clear that day; running was all she had in mind for us to do together. She produced a towel from the front seat of Charlie's car, used it to protect the paint as she leaned against the car to stretch, and used the towel again to protect the seat from her sweat when she drove away.

I went inside and found Victor busily keeping his end of the bargain. The bathroom was so clean that I almost passed up taking a shower ... almost. Except for going grocery shopping, I used the day to prepare for the following week of classes. Kelley called and I found myself enumerating the food purchases I'd made. I saw no reason to tell her about running with Megan, or that we'd made plans to run together in future. When she found out that I was studying, Kelley told me that it was better than playing tennis and cut the call short.

Monday was a light schedule and I left the campus right after having lunch with Victor. Since Business Management was the only class that I had with Gordon, Casey and Shelton, I didn't see them that morning.

I busied myself with trading email with Wanda and speaking with her on the phone about the Baltimore buildings. She was convinced that the one that needed the most refurbishing would be a feasible undertaking. "I'm recommending that my mother become involved if your dad forms a group to buy it," she said.

Later, when I spoke to Mr. Oldham about the building, I could tell that he'd let Wanda influence him. Although he didn't exude the same exuberance as Wanda, he said that he was considering a trip to Baltimore to see the building first hand. He congratulated me on the job Neill and I had done in enumerating the pros and cons associated with the buildings. "I told you it would be a good experience for you," he said.

I ate early and got ready for my guests to arrive. When they hadn't shown up at six-thirty, I wondered if I'd given them good directions to the apartment. At seven o'clock, I looked outside to make sure the outside light was burning. Why hadn't I gotten their phone numbers? I felt sure that Kalian lived in one of the dorms and found her number through the operator at the school.

"We met on Saturday, Mr. Oldham," Kalian informed me before I had a chance to find out why she, Gordon and Casey hadn't shown up for our meeting.