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June 11, 2004
Marks - Chapter 5
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 four, 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 5
Teri kicked off her sensible but ladylike shoes as soon as she stepped into the living room of little townhouse. She pulled the vinyl miniblinds up and sorted through the mail. There was no need to cook since she would be leaving to have dinner with a potential as soon as Tom came home. She walked through the kitchen, pausing to put some letters in the bill box, on her way to the bathroom to touch up her makeup. The answering machine was tucked beside the refrigerator. Out of the corner of her eye, Teri saw its red light blinking wildly.
She pressed the play button, turned the volume up and continued to the bathroom while trying to squelch the hope that it was a message from the potential, canceling the meeting.
To Teri’s surprise, it was her mother. Uncle Robert had died.
Teri crept back into the kitchen. She found the message pad and pen and replayed the message so she could jot down the dates and times of the wake and funeral.
Teri felt as though she had sat in the silent living room nearly all evening before Tom came home. He swung the door open wide and glanced at her, curled up on the couch.
“Are you all ready? I left the car running. Let’s go.”
“My parents called,” Teri whispered in a hoarse voice. Tom’s eyes opened wide in surprise. The Carlisles were seldom mentioned in the Remly home.
“Uncle Robert died this morning,” Teri continued.
“Geez,” Tom muttered. He stepped into the townhouse and slammed the door closed behind him. “How are we ever going to make up his sales? He was keeping us afloat.”
Teri’s head snapped up and her eyes blazed with disgust.
“What a foul, self-centered thing to say,” she yelled. “My mom’s brother just died and all you can think about is the business.”
Tom looked at her evenly.
“You were thinking the same thing, you are just don’t want to say it. Face it, this really puts us in a bind. We’ll have to double our efforts on the retail front.”
Teri turned her head. She couldn’t stand to look at her husband.
“The wake is this Friday,” she said slowly. “The funeral is Saturday. Mom and Dad said we could stay with them. They have plenty of room.”
“No.” Tom spoke in a voice that left no room for argument. “Your parents are the most negative people I know. I know I can’t separate you from the completely, but I’m not staying at their house.”
“They’re not negative,” Teri argued. “They are just prudent. Skeptical.”
“They have ‘specifics-itis,’ always wanting to know bonus percents and odds of going Mega. Cory Jackson warns about people like that.”
“Yes, I heard the tape.”
“They are ‘goal-destroyers.’ They will do anything to keep us from succeeding and I don’t want to be around them anymore than possible.”
“I’m going to the funeral.” Teri was defiant.
“Of course.” Tom’s voice grew gentle. “I didn’t say we wouldn’t go to the funeral. We’ll just get a hotel room or drive back and forth. It’s not that far. Come on, put your shoes on. We have a potential to recruit.”
Until she married Tom, Teri hadn’t realized that some families didn’t hold wakes. When Tom’s grandmother died, there was a solemn funeral followed by a lavish graveside ceremony where the deceased’s closest relatives sat like royalty on rented purple thrones. Teri remembered Tom’s confusion and even disdain the first time he encountered the casual ease with which her family treated death. There was no pomp and ceremony – only a quiet gathering to reminisce then the no-frills funeral the next day. Just the closest relatives and friends stood beside the grave and watched the burial.
Tom, too sophisticated now to show any surprise at the laughter and smiles being exchanged by the mourners, walked among the crowd easily. He was able to recall the names of distant cousins and friends of the extended family much quicker than his wife could.
Teri caught a glimpse of her parents. She dropped Ton’s hand and rushed across the room, pushing through the plumes of perfume and cigarette smoke.
Regan Carlisle grabbed her daughter in a great hug.
“I can’t quite believe it.” Teri’s voice caught. She reached out and stroked her mother’s silver, curly hair. “I can’t believe Uncle Robert is dead.”
“He’d been sick for a long time.” Sam Carlisle’s hand was warm on Teri’s shoulder. The familiar scent of Old Spice aftershave and tobacco relaxed her and brought tears to her eyes.
“This winter it was just one sickness after another,” her mother agreed. “Still, we never thought…”
Teri hugged her parents together very tightly.
“Is Tom with you?”
Teri knew her mother was changing the subject before they all started crying.
“He’s over there, talking to Aunt Patricia.”
Her mother nodded.
“You’ll be coming home with us afterward?” she asked. “I have the guest room all made up.”
Teri looked down to avoid the hurt in her mother’s eyes.
“No. We have a hotel room in town.”
“No need to waste your money,” Teri’s father said after a long silence. “But if you’re more comfortable with your own place, of course we understand.”
Teri gave her father a grateful look.
“It’s not that we’re more comfortable,” she tried to explain. “It’s just that Tom’s going to be doing some work while we’re here so we can write the room off on our taxes. Plus, your guest room will still be open in case Aunt Sarah’s kids need a place to stay.”
Her mother sighed.
“How is the business doing, anyways?”
Teri shrugged and gave her noncommittal smile. She was saved from having to answer when Tom stepped beside her and placed his arm over her shoulders territorially.
“Hello, Sam. Regan.”
Teri’s father’s face grew hard.
“Hey, Tom.”
The Carlisles never spoke to Tom in anything but respectful tones, but there was no mistaking the iciness and steel behind the words.
“What a shame about Uncle Robert.” Tom clucked and shook his head sympathetically.
“Yes. He was so generous – to a fault really. He will be missed.”
Tom smiled and steered Teri away.
“We’re meeting some of your cousins for coffee later tonight. Plus, Robert’s home nurse is stopping by the hotel for breakfast in the morning.” Tom’s voice was all business.
“What?” Teri gasped.
“Look, I know this is an emotionally difficult time, but there’s no reason why we can’t fit some work in while getting to know your relatives.”
“They’re my family,” Teri insisted. “Not potentials.”
“Everyone’s a potential, and it’s not like you have to do anything. Think of it as a nice visit. I’ll handle the business end of things. We need some documented meetings for this trip, just in case we’re audited again.”
Teri looked around her. Familiar faces surrounded her – the people that had populated the graduations, weddings and funerals of her childhood. They were grayer now, more stooped and wrinkled. Most wore outdated clothes, but they were her family, her past.
For the first time in her life, Teri felt apart from them. She saw their smiles and didn’t see the happiness and sorrows that made them who they were. She saw only what items they might be convinced to buy. In her mind she didn’t hear their voices retelling exaggerated stories, she only heard the scripted lines that might bring them into the downline.
It was a disconcerting feeling of loss at the cusp of a breakthrough for the business.
Maybe this was what Tom always felt, Teri thought. Perhaps every room he entered was full of potentials, not real people.
Tom had already moved away from her. He shook more hands. His handsome face was full of charm.
Teri felt empty and alone.
Slowly, she walked along the carpeted aisle. Large displays of flowers, with tiny decorative baskets tucked between them, lined the way. At the end of the path was the casket. Teri took a long look at Uncle Robert’s body. He looked older than she remembered. She suddenly felt ashamed that she didn’t know more about him. What game shad he played as a boy? What had he wanted to be when he grew up? What was going through his mind the day he became a father? What were his great fears and had they ever come to pass?
Teri wondered if Tom had the same thoughts, if he felt any guilt about only calling the lonely old man when he needed to make a quick sale.
She felt her eyes prickle with tears. There was a gentle hand on her shoulder. Teri was surprised when she turned around and saw her husband by her side.
“I was a little rough back there.” Tom’s voice was so soft that she could barely hear him. There was no way anyone else would be able to make out the words. To any observer’s eyes, he was a concerned husband offering comfort and support.
“You’re griefing and don’t want to think about work,” he continued. “Sometimes I get so carried away that I forget the reason for all this. I work so hard for you, because I want you to be comfortable and healthy and happy. One day you’ll be like Belinda Jackson, wearing mink everyday.”
His voice was so loving that Teri couldn’t hold back the tears.
“And it’s not just about us.” Tom paused to wipe away her tears and hold her close. “I lover your family, because they’re part of you. I want the best for them, too. When I talk to them about Sheik Chic, it’s not just to help grow our business. I know that Sheik Chic is the best opportunity available and I want to show them how to make their dreams come true.”
Teri raised her face and looked into Tom’s eyes. She had no doubt that he meant every word.
“I love you,” she whispered.
Tom smiled as if to an indulged child.
“I love you too,” he said.
They walked away from the casket, arm in arm. Teri conticed people smiling at them. They were a handsome couple, showing an appropriate degree of grief and togetherness.
“That was a good meeting, I think.”
Teri sat in front of the mirror, brushing her hair. She really felt that Tom had made an effort to open up to her at the funeral. Although their home was small, there was always a great distance between them. Even in their car, somehow they were apart.
Now, in the tiny hotel room with two beds and no emotional baggage, Teri suddenly felt close to her husband.
“Not bad,” Tom answered with a grin. He sat at the table in the corner of the room, busily updating the customer information database on their slightly outdated laptop. “Your cousins were very nice and I think Peter might call us back next week. He sounded very interested.
“And Kati and Camille loved the Fresh for Her line. I think they’ll really enjoy those lipsticks they ordered.”
“Let me check the email real quick, then maybe we could snuggle up together and see what’s on T.V.?”
Teri nodded. It had been years since they spend an evening in such a cozy, relaxing way.
“This is kind of interesting.”
“What’s that?” Teri asked as she slipped her brush in her cosmetics bag and smoothed the Fresh for Her Wrinklebuster cream over her neck.
“A business opportunity in Nigeria,” Tom replied. “They’re looking for an American partner.”
“How on earth did they get our address?”
Tom shrugged.
“Just leave it for now,” Teri urged. “Wait until we’re home and can look it over properly.”
“You’re right. We don’t want to do anything that might jeopardize our contract with Sheik Chic. Let me just send a quick note saying that we’re interested.”
Tom tapped out the letter and shut down the computer.
“Now,” he said while making a big production of turning down the sheets and fluffing the pillows. “Ready for the best part of the trip?”
Breakfast with Uncle Robert’s home nurse was short and unproductive. She did not want to run her own business, she explained when she realized the point of the meeting. She was happy doing her job then coming home without aggravations and worries. She didn’t have any extra time to devote to another project.
When Tom suggested that she could combine the two careers by selling toiletries and clothing to the senior citizens whom she cared for, the nurse gave him a stern frown. She would not take advantage of her charges. She had standards.
Although Tom argued that she would be doing her patients a favor by offering them such a convenient way to shop, she would not be moved. By the end of the meal she was glaring so hard that Teri wisely chose not to pull out her Fresh for Her samples and catalog.
Tom and Teri checked out of the hotel immediately and drove to the country church where the funeral would be held. Teri’s father had carefully written the directions out on a note card.
Their car was out of place on the rocky back roads. Tom cursed every time they hit a bump.
“let’s take our minds off this mess,” he said after the tires of a passing truck raised a sheet of mud that left a cloudy haze over the windshield. Keeping one eye on the road, he fished through the organizer hidden in the armrest. He selected a CD and slid it into the player.
“Family is the most important thing on earth.” Cory Jackson’s voice was forceful but friendly and as enthusiastic as always. “Just like God is the most important thing in heaven.”
“I love that Cory’s not afraid to talk religion,” Tom said over the taped lecture. “Sometimes I think Sheik Chic’s gotten too politically correct and secular. Cory takes his business into churches. It’s wonderful.”
“People ask me, ‘Cory, why are you always talking up the business to your brothers and sisters – those of blood and those of spirit? They’ve heard the message already, they just don’t want to join the business and they’re tired of hearing about it.’”
Teri thought the speech could benefit from adding an occasional ‘amen’ or ‘praise the lord’ from the congregation.
“I say to them, ‘How can I not tell them most important people, the people I love, about the opportunity that could change their lives?’ If my brother knew a way that would let me retire from my day job and still bring in over a million dollars each and every year, I would sure want him to tell me about it. Even if I was skeptical, even if I laughed in his face or told him off, even if I avoided him. I could only hope that he would love me enough to keep on telling me, to keep on showing me his own wealth until I saw the light.
“Now, I know there are some preachers and deacons and plain old believes who are out there listening to this. Maybe they’re thinking that Christians aren’t supposed to think of money so much. But humor me now. Picture everyone in your congregation. That’s right, the choir on down to the last row. Now, see them all as millionaires. Look up at the front of the church. How heavy are those collection baskets? They’re overflowing! Now, open those bulletins. What works is your church funding? Missions and schools and building houses for the homeless and feeding the poor!
“Now, why haven’t you approached every single member of your church? If you have, why haven’t you recruited them? If they didn’t see the light, you have to get out there and keep on talking up the business. Keep on showing them your wealth. Keep on working toward the church full of millionaires.”
Tom turned down the volume.
“Why did we stopped going to church?” he asked.
Teri shrugged.
“We always seem to be traveling on Sundays. Or else there’s a motivational meeting and we go to the service there.”
“We need to get back into the habit of going. I’m sure that we can fit it in. Maybe we can find a church close to home with a very early service. That way, even if we have to travel somewhere we can fit it in first.”
“What’s brought this on,” Teri asked, although the answer was obvious.
“I feeling very spiritual,” Tom answered with a smile. “Maybe it’s being here, among simpler people. I want to be part of a church community again.”
They pulled into a gravel parking lot. Tom checked the directions.
“This looks like the place.”
A small stone building, primitive but well-kept, was at the corner of a fenced in cemetery. Tom spotted the Carlisle’s truck and pulled in beside it. As she got out of the car, Teri heard an organ playing a series of melancholy chords.
“Do we have to stay for the burial?” Tom asked. “Because I’d really like to get home at a decent hour. Maybe we can find a church to go to tomorrow morning. Plus, I want to find out more about this Nigerian opportunity before someone else steps in. The funeral won’t take very long, will it?”
© 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)