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May 28, 2004
Marks - Chapter 3
By QBlog in
Marks is a novel that tells the story of a young married couple, two college roommates and a successful businessman whose lives ultimately intertwine as the result of a business opportunity — and a dream. Quixtar BLOG is publishing Marks as a serial, making a new installment available every Friday.
If you missed chapter two, never fear, it's still here for your reading pleasure.
Disclaimer: This book has not been through a final edit. There may be some misspelled words and grammatical errors. Please understand that as you read through the novel.
» Chapter 3
Keying in numbers eight hours a day at Burkelin Securities was probably not the worst job to have, Teri decided, but it definitely made the top ten list. She pulled her feet out of her sensible, low heeled shoes, flexed her toes and glanced up at the clock that ticked by the seconds like a metronome. The face was an industrial model, devoid of any decoration and framed by an equally plain steel circle.
Teri planned to work for forty more minutes then take her morning break. That would leave only another hour and a half until lunch time.
She slipped her shoes back on, slid another sheet of green paper into the holder attached to her computer’s monitor and rejoined the chatter of ten-keyers picking out endless streams of data. Teri didn’t know what she was typing even as her fingers flew over the keys. When she first joined the firm, she always noticed if she entered a loan application, a company bank statement or an insurance claim. Now she just entered the form identification key highlighted in the upper righthand corner and pounded the information into the database form that the computer pulled up. She didn’t even bother to read the field names.
In Teri’s opinion, the worst part about the job was that she had to devote some minimal level of concentration to the task. If she were raking leaves, washing dishes or driving down the interstate, Teri could release her mind to a dream world and let the hours fly past as she visualized complex relationships between dashing knights and beautiful damsels in fantastical realms.
But reading line after line of numbers and translating them into keystrokes, while not a particularly challenging task, stifled her imagination. Time seemed to slow down as soon as she entered the data entry room. By the time she clocked out of her shift, Teri felt as though she had spent a year in the tight confines of her work station.
Wednesdays were especially long. When their Sheik Chic workload overtook every night of the week, Teri demanded a regular evening off. Tom had grudgingly agreed not to schedule any potential meetings, upline status reports or downline motivation reviews on that day. Instead, Teri drizzled a steaming tub of water with a few drops of lavender oil, put a conditioning treatment on her hair and spread a clarifying mark across her face. Immersed in water and warmed by a glass of wine, she could let her mind wander to anything but finances, recruitment and sales quotas.
Tom usually spent that glorious hour balancing their personal and professional books.
Teri pulled herself back to the pile of numbers stacked neatly on her worktable. She promised herself that she would not look at the clock or let her mind go off task until she finished the forms down to the third paperclip. Ever since she was a kid, Teri would offer little deals to God: If she finished all her math homework without making a mistake then she would ace the next text. If she held her breath through the commercial then she would get a puppy for Christmas. If she could keep the silver baton twirling until a blue car passed then she would make head majorette.
The habit stuck, but somewhere along the way she began to have trouble deciding what to ask for in return for her nominal sacrifices. Money? That seemed an immature and selfish reward. Happiness? What was that? Health? A long life? Anything that sounded worthwhile risked becoming a monkey’s paw. Teri began to settle for everything will be okay, which was as vague as her idea of God.
“Ready for a break, Kiddo?”
Teri looked up at the woman standing by her shoulder then gave a guilty glance at the stack of work. She was still an inch away from the magical paperclip that marked the point where God would have to come through.
“More than ready,” Teri answered. She pushed her chair back and fished for her purse under her worktable. “In fact, I’m ready for this day to be over.”
“I heard that.”
Karen was older and better educated than most of the other typists in the room. She taught English at the local high school and only worked at Burkelin during breaks. She needed the extra money to pay her tuition at Freehold State University, she confided to Teri. She was pursuing a PhD in education leadership, which would qualify her to be a principal or even superintendent.
The county would have reimbursed her the cost of some of the classes, but Karen wanted to get the degree on her own terms, taking the courses that interested her rather than those that met some bureaucrat’s approval. None of the teachers at her school knew she was working on the degree. When the right position came along, she told Karen, she was going to surprise them all with her credentials. She promised that the first person to insinuate that she got the job because she was black was going to call her Dr. Dermott for the rest of his or her life.
“Wednesdays are always the longest,” Karen said. “There’s still two days until the weekend and Saturday has become a distant memory.”
The two women walked to the makeshift lounge whittled out of hallway space.
“I can’t wait to get home, take a bath and watch mindless television in my flannel pajamas.”
Teri sighed happily with the thought. She pulled two quarters out of her purse, dropped them in the Honor jar and took a diet soda out of the refrigerator.
“This is no life,” Karen complained as she poured a cup of coffee and flopped down beside Teri on the beat up sofa. “Clicking in numbers all day long. You need to go back to school and find something you love before you go crazy in this place.”
“We aren’t all nerdy, academic types like you,” Teri answered. “I would be so out of place in school. Anyways, what would I do?”
“Don’t sell yourself short. You could do anything.”
“No, I’m too old. Could you see that, me in college with kids old enough to be my own? Do you think I should join a sorority?”
“You would do great in college,” Karen protested. “And the only way you could have a kid old enough to be in college is if you started when you were ten, so a little less of this ‘I’m too old’ nonsense. Anyways, if you don’t want to spend four years getting a degree, then go to nursing school, get a paralegal certificate, learn to program computers or cut hair. Something. You are much too smart to be wasting your time here.”
Teri snorted.
“You don’t know Tom. He’d never okay the money for me to go back to school. Besides, I don’t have the time.”
“Honey, if a man won’t spend a little money for you to better yourself, then he isn’t worth keeping around.”
“Tom’s a good husband.” Teri was defensive. “It’s just that we’re really busy with the business. He wants it to succeed so that I won’t have to be entering in numbers for the rest of my life.”
“What are you going to be doing instead? Throwing cocktail parties and polishing the crystal?”
“Wiping noses and changing diapers, hopefully.” Teri laughed. “We do want to have a family one of these days.”
“Babies are nice.” Karen paused to take a sip from her Styrofoam cup. “They’re all cuddly and precious — just pure love. I think that’s why I got into teaching, I enjoyed raising my own kids so much. But the thing about babies is, they grow up. You have to love them hard while they’re little but be ready to move on to something else when they get bigger. Those angelic little children grow into adults who date horrifying people and don’t come home for Christmas. If you don’t have something else to love, they’ll break your heart.”
Teri chuckled.
“A little bitter, aren’t you Mrs. Dermott? Don’t worry, I’ll be prepared for a life after those babies. I just have to have them first. One step at a time.”
“You’re husband went to college, didn’t he?” Karen asked.
“Yeah, three years at Tech but he didn’t graduate.”
“Still, looks like he would encourage you a bit more. You’re such a bright woman and I hate to see you wasting away here.”
Teri sighed and drained her soda can.
“Marriage is supposed to be fifty-fifty, right? I’m supporting Tom’s desire to grow our business. I’m sure when the time is right and I decide what I want to be when I grow up, Tom will support me.”
Karen pursed her lips and gave her friend a long look.
“You just be sure he does. When that time comes, you make sure he is behind you one hundred percent.”
“Thanks, Karen. I feel like I should be paying you some fee for career counseling.”
“Honey, you couldn’t afford me. Time to go back into the coal mines.”
Teri usually arrived home before Tom. On Wednesdays, sometimes the only day of the week they ate at home, this gave her some time to start dinner. If she didn’t have to stop at the grocery store on the way, Teri also had time to make a short telephone call before her husband came home.
Her fingers trembled as she lifted the handset and dialed the familiar number.
“Hello,” her mother sang on the other end of the line. Teri waited patiently while the computerized voice gave its spiel and her mom accepted the charges.
“Hi Sweetie. I’m glad you called.”
“I’ve had a rotten day, Mom, and I need to talk.”
Teri sat at the table positioned in the middle of the large room that served as a kitchen, living room and dining room.
“What happened?” Regan Carlisle asked sympathetically. Hearing her voice, Teri could almost imagine she was in airy country kitchen at her parents’ home, eating ginger snaps and drinking hot chocolate after a hard day at school.
“Nothing happened, exactly. I’m just so miserable at work. The days are endless. The work is mind-numbing. I don’t think I can work there another week.”
“How’s your business doing? Any chance you can go into that fulltime?”
“Mom, we’d be lucky to –” Teri stopped before she said anything negative. She tried to be careful about what she said about Sheik Chic, especially to her parents.
“It will probably be a while before either Tom or I can quit our day job,” she finished lamely. “These things take time.”
“Of course they do, Dear. Don’t worry about today. Everyone has bad days. If it was nothing but fun, they wouldn’t call it ‘work.’”
“I know, Mom, but I’m thinking about doing something else.”
“What do you have in mind?”
“I’m thinking about going back to school. The community college here has a nursing program in the evenings. It would take two years, but I think I could do it. After that, I could work anywhere, have a steady, interesting job where I really helped people everyday.”
Teri bit her lip while she waited for her mother’s response.
“Sweetie, I think that is a great idea! I always thought you should go into nursing. When you were a little girl you bandaged up anything that held still. What does Tom think about it?”
“Tom doesn’t know yet,” she answered. “I want to have everything figured out before I tell him.”
“What is there to figure out? If you want to do this, if it will make you happy, I’m sure he will be thrilled.”
“I don’t know, Mom. There are two big problems. First, there’s the money for tuition.”
“Don’t even worry about that. Your father and I wanted you to go to college when you graduated from high school. The money is still there. We would love to pay your tuition. I think we could also manage to give you some extra. After all, we were going to pay for you to live in the dormitory. I would like to give you enough that you only had to work part-time, so that you had time to study.”
Teri felt her eyes fill with tears.
“Mom, that is too generous.”
“Nonsense. It will all be your when we die, anyways. What’s the other problem?”
“Well, even if I work less hours, between classes and studying there’s not going to be much time for me to work on growing our Sheik Chic business.”
“Tom will just have to pick up some of the slack, that’s all. Either that or you let the business stay at the status quo for a couple of years. Anyways, isn’t this Sheik Chic thing mostly Tom’s dream? He can work at that while you work at your dreams. Plenty of people run successful companies without their wives working for them every night. Talk to your husband. He’ll understand if you say it the right way.”
Teri heard some doubt in her mother’s voice, but she concentrated on the optimism of her words instead.
“I will. I’ll try.”
Through the front window, Teri saw Tom’s truck pull into the parking lot.
“Mom,” she said frantically. “Tom’s here. I got to go.”
“Okay, Sweetie. I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
Teri rested the telephone back in its cradle and ran to open the door so her husband wouldn’t have to fumble for his keys.
“Got dinner going yet?”
Tom handed Teri his briefcase when he stepped through the door.
“No,” Teri answered defensively. “I just got home. Traffic was a mess.”
“Good, ‘cause Bill called me on the way home. The Gerkins are having a gathering tonight. Kind of a pre-MotoQuest party.”
“Tonight? But it’s Wednesday.”
“It’s a spur of the moment get together, but there are going to be some important networking opportunities that we can’t miss. Bill said that a couple of Megas are in town and we’ll definitely get to meet them.”
Teri decided to be sweet.
“Honey, why don’t you go by yourself? I really need a quiet evening. You know how I get if I’m not able to do my girly stuff.”
Tom frowned.
“I can’t go by myself. You know that. The business is supposed to be a family partnership. My wife is expected to be there.”
Teri followed Tom to the bathroom and stood behind him. Looking in the mirror, she watched him wrap a towel around his neck to protect his good shirt and spread a thin layer of Fresh for Him shaving cream across his cheeks.
“Anyways,” Tom continued between slow, steady razor strokes. “It will be a quiet evening. Very relaxing. That blouse is okay but you know slacks are a no-no. Please tell me your gray suit is clean.”
Teri nodded.
“Go on and get dressed, Ter. We have to leave soon if we want to be there on time.”
Teri didn’t move.
“Hey.” Tom turned around to face her. “One day we won’t have to rush around like this. When we go Mega, everyone will be throwing impromptu parties for us and we can be as late as we want.”
“I know.” Teri spoke very deliberately. “I’m behind you one hundred percent. Your dreams are my dreams, right?”
Tom sighed and turned back around.
“Great. So go get ready already.”
“You owe me though, okay? I’m giving up my Wednesday and a lot of other things for you and your plans. One day it will be my turn, right?”
“What is this about?” Tom asked in exasperation. “Is it having a baby or getting new clothes or a night out dancing or what?”
“It’s about the future,” Teri cried out. “You know, beyond when we go Mega, which may or may not happen at some unscheduled point down the road. It’s about what happens then, and what we’re supposed to do while we’re waiting.”
Tom stared for a minute, stunned by the emotional outburst.
“We are treading water for the moment,” he said calmly. “We’re treading the ocean water ntil we can cruise across it first class. Because that’s how we’re going to go when we reach Mega – and we will be Mega – first class. There will be enough time for all our dreams if we lay the foundation now.”
The words seemed familiar to Teri. It took her a minute to place them.
“Cary Jackson.” She almost spat the name out. “‘What to do if your partner turns away from the business.’ I listen to those stupid tapes too, you know. But Quoting Cory Jackson doesn’t solve all our problems.”
Tom’s face clouded with anger.
“Look, we don’t have time for this kind of temper tantrum right now. Get dressed. We’re going to this party. This weekend is MotoQuest. If you’re still in this negative, dream-killing mood after that the we’ll have to have some sort of counseling. I’ll talk to Bill about it. But we’re leaving in fifteen minutes if I have to dress you myself.”
Teri walked out of the bathroom and down the narrow hallway. Numbly she pulled the dove gray suit out of her closet and put it on.
Neither Teri nor Tom said a word when the left the townhouse and traveled down the road in the finest luxury the American automobile industry could provide. Before they were a mile from home, Tom pushed the play button on the CD player and Cory Jackson’s enthusiastic voice, recounting his days of sacrifice before going Mega, covered the silence. Tom and Teri had only visited Michael and Renee Gerkin’s three story, brick Colonial home twice before. The first time was before they even signed up to be Sheik Chic retailers. Sometimes it seemed to Teri that the time before Bill and Gen Lewis recruited them into the business was a lifetime ago.
The Gerkin home was impossible to miss. Not only was it the only house on the lonely county road several miles outside of the city, but the crowd of cars parked in the impressive circular driveway announced that there was a party inside.
Tom looked at his wife in disgust as he slowed down and drove past the house.
“We’re too late,” he said. “There’s no where to park.”
Teri swallowed hard against the urge to cry. Tom hated tears.
“There’s a little road over there by the garage,” she pointed out in a quiet voice. “Maybe there is a back driveway or something.”
Tom grunted and made a quick turn. A few cars were parked just off the side of the quiet back road but there was ample space left.
“Now we just have to hike through a half mile of dirt,” he complained while pulling into a wide spot. He was out of the car and several paces away before Teri could even unbuckle her seat belt.
With wooden hands, she managed to open the door. She practically ran to catch up to her husband. Even when she was at his side, Teri still had to walk uncomfortably fast in her high heeled shoes in order to keep up with his long strides.
When they reached the huge double doors, Tom grabbed Teri’s hand and rang the doorbell.
Trish Bellefontaine answered the door immediately. She wore a dark brown suit – the exact same style as Teri’s. Her mahogany hair was pulled into a tight bun at the back of her neck.
“Tom and Teri,” she exclaimed. “So glad you could make it! Come on in.”
Tom shook Trish’s hand while smiling broadly at her. The Bellefontaines sponsored Bill and Gen Lewis and were sponsored by the Gerkins. The Gerkins were just one step below Cory and Belinda Jackson. Trish was a duchess in the Sheik Chic royal line. Teri wasn’t surprised that her husband was rolling out the charm.
Tom squeezed his wife’s arm affectionately and began recounting the last time he saw Trish – at a marketing class her husband taught.
Trish nodded vaguely. Catching Teri’s eye, she made a little gesture with her fingers at the edge of her mouth, as if to remind Teri to mimic her artificial smile.
The doorbell rang again.
“Excuse me,” Trish interrupted Tom and opened the door.
“Ryan and Lisa,” she greeted the newly arrived couple. “So glad you could make it! Come on in.”
There wasn’t much room in the entrance, so Tom and Teri advanced toward the living room and stared in awe at the magnificence around them. The one room was larger than their entire townhouse. Filled with antiques, or very good reproductions, it was as breathtaking as the first time they saw it.
Men in dark suits bustled back and forth, each with a smiling woman wearing subdued tan, gray or navy. The scene reminded Teri of an intricate minuet. Each handshake and every laugh seemed choreographed as the couples proceeded across the length of the room.
Every so often, a person or couple stood out from the crowd. Their comparatively loud, non-businesslike, clothes, nervous expressions and obvious unease marked them out as potentials. They weren’t members of the Sheik Chic family, but after they saw the love, wealth and prestige on display tonight, they might join up.
Teri wondered if she and Tom had looked so awkward the first night they were at the Gerkins’. She could barely remember a time when she could stand at the periphery of a party and not smile or be reminded to smile.
“Tom! Teri!” Bill Lewis waded across the crowd. His wife, Gen, clung to his arm. A young couple of potentials followed sheepishly behind.
Bill shook Ton’s hand and gave Teri a warm hug and kiss on her cheek.
“This is Carl Root and Rebecca Pimmit. They’re getting married this summer and already planning for a lifetime of financial security. Isn’t that wonderful?”
Teri smiled at the couple. They were about college age and the only people in the room wearing jeans.
“I’m glad you could come,” Tom said smoothly while he shook their hands. “Sheik Chic is a great business opportunity and a terrific chance to meet some fantastic people.”
Teri caught her breath. No one was supposed to say the company’s name to a potential except the recruiter. Tom’s mistake was inexcusable.
Gen and Teri looked at each other with wide eyes.
“There are a few other people I want you to meet.” Bill seemed unflustered as he led the kids away, but he glared back over his shoulder.
“I’ll call you tomorrow morning,” Bill said to Tom. “We need to talk.”
“Damn,” Tom whispered. He snagged a ginger ale from a passing waiter’s silver serving tray.
“He’ll cool down some by tomorrow.” Teri stroked Tom’s arm soothingly as she spoke. “Just tell him it was a mistake. Let him know that you’re sorry. Maybe there’s no harm done.”
Tom knocked her hand away.
“You had to start a fight, didn’t you? How can I be expected to keep my eye on the ball after a full day of work then your list of complaints?”
Teri drew away, wounded.
“I’m sorry,” she said automatically.
“We might as well just go now,” Tom whispered harshly. “Bill’s sure not going to introduce me to any Megas after that little show. Let’s go home.”
He grabbed Teri’s hand and pulled her back out the door. He barely acknowledged Trish’s goodbye.
Tom didn’t say another word until they were back in the car and speeding toward home.
“How could you?” he demanded. “Are you trying to destroy the business? Do you want to see me fail? Is that why you are always saying your wry little comments and starting fights on important nights? ‘Cause if so then just come out and say it. That would make life a whole lot easier on me.”
“I said I was sorry,” Teri sobbed. She was devastated by the injustice of his statements. She wasn’t the one who messed up at the party and it had been ages since she said anything sarcastic about Sheik Chic.
“Yeah.” Tom snorted. “You know we’ll never go Mega unless we are both in this one hundred and ten percent. Just tell me if you’re with me or against me.”
“I’m with you,” she insisted. “I want to go Mega as badly as you do.”
“So no more of this What will we be doing in the future? What if we don’t make Mega? What about my Wednesday bath? negative talk? We have to know we’re going all the way and work every single night to get there.”
The mocking tone he used to quote her concerns shocked Teri, but she nodded. When she realized that Tom was focusing on the road and didn’t see her, she cleared her throat.
“You’re right,” she said in a quiet voice. “Every night. One hundred and ten percent.”
Teri saw Tom’s grip on the steering wheel relax slightly.
“There’s another thing,” he said after a long pause. “Showing up at functions and keeping a positive attitude are important, but they aren’t everything. You haven’t made Sheik Chic a part of your life like I have. I want us to sit down tonight and sketch out how you can start bringing new potentials in. You work, you get your hair done. You can track down some old friends. There’s no reason that you can’t meet a reasonable weekly quota. You need to show me that you really do want this and aren’t just paying lip service.
“Okay.”
Teri felt empty and cold inside. The anger and sorrow inside of her was gone and she was left with nothing. She wondered how it was possible to feel so alone while sitting beside such a handsome, smiling husband.
© Copyright 2003-04, Janet Marie Mills - (The Creative Commons License on this site does not apply to this Copyrighted work which is published with the permission of the author)