Chapter 1 A Chill in the Air

There must be tens of thousands of us. There has to be. In all the flights I've taken in North America, I seldom recall seeing a familiar face. We're the nameless guys, often in wrinkled suits and loosened ties, carrying a briefcase or a laptop, or both. We stand in line to get our boarding passes, shuffle through security, sit in the waiting room (or lounge, if we've got enough points) and hope the damn plane is on time for once.

My name is Gordon Andrews, although my family and friends know me as Andy. I'm almost forty-three well-worn years old, tall at six-two, and reasonably fit at 205 pounds. I'm the sales manager for Flex-Tek, a flexible packaging convertor primarily aimed at the food industry. My sales staff covers the west coast of the U.S. and all of western Canada. Our plant is based in Langley, not far from Vancouver.

Yes, it's true I'm on the road at least two weeks out of four, but that's by choice. I want to be in touch with our customers and I want to know just how effective my sales guys and gals are as well. I also find I'm a lot happier on the road than I am when I'm at home.

I married Carla Mertens a year after I started work at Flex-Tek. I'm a college drop-out, a permanent undergraduate I call it. I wasn't ready for that environment and it wasn't until I was nearly thirty that I realized it. By that time, I had married, fathered two sons, and acquired a mortgage. I started in customer service, moved into sales two years later, then was made manager of sales at the ripe old age of thirty-five. I'm not sure I'll go any further, but I'm not really upset about that. I'm happy with my job and I'm very well rewarded for my efforts. We are very successful in our chosen market segments.

Carla and I are mismatched. She's a foot shorter, to begin with, and not at all curious about the world we live in. She is, however, very attractive with a very nice, well maintained body. She dresses nicely and has a lovely smile when she chooses to show it. Over the years I've had a number of people comment on how good looking she is.

She barely glances at the newspaper and only picks up what is on the evening TV news. As a result, she's often baffled by events and misinterprets what she hears. She's not dumb, just uninterested and unaware. I long ago quit trying to educate her.

I'm her opposite. I'm an information sponge, always interested in what's going on and why things are the way they are. It's part of what makes me successful in my career. I really want to know what's important to our customers and I listen and attempt to understand how their businesses work. I try very hard to remember everything I'm told. To my credit, I've had a number of customers mention to my salesmen and my boss how they appreciate my interest and attention to their needs.

We started our family very early on in our marriage. Our eldest son, Neal, was born a year-and-a-half after we wed when I was twenty-one and Carla was only twenty. Our second son, Philip, was born thirty months later. Looking back on it now, I'm glad we started as soon as we did. It was tough for a while, trying to raise two boys and provide a nice home for them on one salary. Carla had a job when we married, but gave it up when she became pregnant with Neal. She never went back to work.

Neal is studying engineering at UBC. No surprise there. Like me, he's curious about many different things which led him in that direction. Unlike me at his age, he is extremely focussed and dedicated to his studies. He has a number of scholarship grants and bursaries to help the financial load. Since the commute is too much for him, he lives on campus.

Philip, or Phil as he prefers, is less studious and not quite as mature. He still lives at home and commutes to school. However, he is bright and is very much immersed in computers and computer design. He's also the athlete of the two. He plays golf as well as intramural hockey which he is passionate about. He plays defence and kills penalties when he isn't the one in the penalty box to begin with.

We're proud of both our boys. They're good citizens and do nothing that would embarrass us. At least, not that we know about. I'm pretty confident that both of them will succeed in the business world. They are different in personality and that's to be expected I suppose. Phil is the outgoing one while Neal is much quieter and more controlled. It's nice to be able to enjoy our children and not worry about them very much.

It sounds like an ideal family, doesn't it? An attractive wife, two well-behaved sons, a house in the suburbs, and a great job. Most people would be content with that. I wish I were content. In the last two years Carla has not been the happy homemaker she once was. At first I thought she might be anticipating both boys being gone and her being alone. When I talked to her about my observations, she steadfastly denied there was any problem.

We discussed moving to a newer home. We'd been living in our current three bedroom split-level for eleven years at maybe it was time for a change. At first she was interested, then talked herself out of it when she thought of all the work and confusion involved in a move. Alternatively, I suggested some home renovations to upgrade our current home. No, that would just make a big mess. Plus, after all the horrible things that renovation contractors did on some of the reality TV shows, she wanted no part of that.

"So, tell me, Carla. What is it you do want? You're obviously not happy right now. What can I do to make your life better?"

She had no idea how to answer that question. I could see her mouth move as she tried to say something, but nothing came out. In the end, she just shook her head and said nothing. That was last month and, in the meantime, nothing had changed.

I was sitting in the Alaska Air lounge in Los Angeles, waiting for my flight, now delayed two hours and counting. I finished my report on the trip and e-mailed it to my boss, grateful that it was one less thing I had to do this coming weekend. When the flight finally got off the ground, I would be arriving in Vancouver at sometime around midnight, hopefully not delayed in customs, but with a further hour's drive to my home. Not an appealing prospect, but not the first time either.

As I helped myself to some snacks and another glass of wine, I noticed a familiar face. While the face might have been familiar, I couldn't quite grasp the name from my memory. I know I'd seen him somewhere, and not that long ago. As I sat back in my seat, it came to me. His name was Gerry something and we were seatmates on a previous flight a couple of months ago. With nothing better to do, and surprised at having discovered someone I recognized, I walked over and reintroduced myself.

"Hi, it's Gerry isn't it?" I tried tentatively.

"Yes ... Gerry Lowrie. Oh ... I remember you, but I'm sorry, the name escapes me."

"Andy Andrews. We were seatmates a while back ... on this same flight if I remember."

"It would be," he nodded. "This is a regular flight for me."

"Looks like we're going to be late getting home," I said idly.

"Yeah, the inbound Seattle flight is delayed I'm told. Nothing new."

"So, how are things with you? How's business?" I asked.

"Business is okay. The rest of my life has turned to shit."

I gave him a questioning look, letting him decided what to tell me.

"If it was the flight I'm thinking of, I got home to find the house empty and my wife and kids gone. She had left with them, all their possessions, some of mine, and most of the money in our bank accounts."

"Oh shit. That's bad. What happened?"

"Decided I didn't measure up any more. Filed for divorce and moved out while I was down here. Never said a word. Just up and left."

"You think there was another guy?"

"If there is, she's kept it well hidden," he sighed. "Right now, she's not talking to me, living with her parents. Any communication goes through her lawyer and all I'm getting is she's filing for irreconcilable differences. That tells me absolutely nothing. My lawyer says it's a done deal. We'll end up splitting things fifty-fifty, except it won't be fifty-fifty. She'll get the house and I'll get the mortgage. Throw in child support and alimony and I'll be living in a cardboard box and eating Top Ramen noodles."

"Jesus, it can't be that bad," I said.