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August 20, 2004
Marks - Final Chapter
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 has published Marks as a serial, making a new installment available every Friday. This is the final chapter. All previous chapters are archived here on the blog so if you missed any just search for "Marks" and you should be caught up in no time.
Thanks to all who've kept up with this book each week. It was fun for me and I hope it was fun for you too. Since comments are disabled for this post I invite you to send any feedback to marks@webraw.com and be sure to put "Marks Feedback" in the subject line. My thanks to the author for permitting me to publish her novel here. A complete (and hopefully edited) version of the novel should be available as a PDF download sometime soon.
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 16
“Everything is fine, Mom,” Teri said into the telephone handset. She tried not to sigh and to keep the exasperation out of her voice. “I just got really busy for a while.”
“Two months,” Regan Carlisle said in a clipped tone. “You didn’t call for an entire month. We were so worried.”
“I know, Mom. I’m sorry.”
“Was it the business, was that what has kept you to busy to pick up the phone? Your poor father has been sick over this. He’s called Tom about a thousand times. We were this close to driving up and seeing what was going on.”
Teri clamped her hand on her forehead and leaned even further back on the couch. She needed to talk to her father. He was the only person who knew she had been pregnant and she needed to tell him a watered down version of what had happened before he let something slip to Tom.”
“Is Daddy there?” Teri asked. “Can I talk to him?”
“He’s right here. He’s been trying to grab the phone since he found out it was you.”
“Punkin?” Sam asked on the other end of the line. “Is everything okay?”
“It’s fine, Daddy.” Teri rushed to reassure him. “I had a miscarriage and I needed some time to myself. That’s all.”
There was no need to tell them about the accident, Teri decided. If they knew, it would only lead to more worry. She didn’t know if she could deal with that right now. Although she was home, there was still so much pain. Her body protested each time she had to left herself up on the shiny steel walker and pick her way to the bathroom. Her heart ached whenever the television aired a commercial featuring a chubby baby and a happy mother.
“I was so afraid something like that happened.” There was genuine sorrow in her father’s words. “I couldn’t get a straight answer out of Tom.”
“Tom didn’t know,” Teri said without thinking.
“Didn’t know?”
“No. He knew I was having female problems, but I hadn’t told him about the baby yet so I didn’t want to tell him about the miscarriage. He would have been too torn up.”
“Oh.” Sam sounded doubtful. “Hold on. Your mother wants to talk to you again.”
“Hi Honey,” Regan said. “I just wanted to know if you had given anymore thought to coming home and going to school here. We checked with the admissions office and they said you would have no trouble getting in. You won’t even need to take the SATs. We just need to know before the semester starts…”
The world around Teri began to spin and her mother’s voice faded off. Everything was moving too quickly. Everyone was making decisions about her and even caring about what she wanted to do.
Teri swung her legs over the edge of the sofa, sat up and leaned as far forward as she could. With her head bent over her knees, the spinning slowed and Regan’s chirping came back into focus.
They didn’t care about what she wanted, Teri realized, because there wasn’t really anything she did want. She had no passion anymore. No burning desire. There was a complete void of ambition or expectation. Tom tried to fill it with Sheik Chic, her parents with higher education and Steven with an almost puppy-dog affection and infatuation.
She was miserable where she was, but she knew she had to find her own choices.
As politely as she could, Teri ended the telephone call. She sat on the couch for a long time, staring at the Sheik Chic artwork that graced the plain white walls of the townhouse and thinking about the future.
“I’ve got great news,” Tom announced as soon as he threw the door of the townhouse open.
Teri struggled to turn off the television and arrange herself so that she looked liked she had been reading the books Tom had assigned her. Before her husband had a chance to set his briefcase down though, she changed her mind about the attempt a subterfuge and instead flipped the sitcom back on and tossed the Belinda Jackson tome aside.
“I hope it has something to do with the bank balance,” she said without looking up from the rerun. “Or else the electricity bill is going to bounce.”
Tom heaved the heavy, irritated sigh that was becoming the constant background music of their days.
“I talked to Bill today and he wants me at Regionals.”
Teri rolled her eyes.
“Great news, and totally unexpected. Bill always wants us to go somewhere. Anywhere there’s a meeting, Bill is trying to get us to go. Ever wonder how much he marks up the tickets before he sells them to us?”
She heard Tom’s teeth gritting.
“He doesn’t just want me to go to Regionals. He wants me to speak at Regionals.”
Teri refused to look impressed.
“God, what would you talk about?”
“Sacrifice,” Tom answered in a hurt voice. “About everything we gave up to succeed.”
“Isn’t that a little premature? We haven’t succeeded yet.”
Tom’s eyes brightened. He grabbed his briefcase, popped open the clasps and pulled out a sheet of paper.
“Oh but we have,” he said. “Last quarter we made twenty thousand dollars. If we keep that up, we will be up to eighty thousand a year.”
Teri accepted the paper and scanned it.
“Then how come the check to the electric company is going to bounce?”
“It’s our net income,” Tom explained. “We still have to pay for the merchandise we retail. Plus, we charged a lot of our business training materials and that has to be paid for first.”
Teri snorted and handed the financial statement back to her husband.
“I wouldn’t expect that kind of performance everytime,” she said. “Good old Frank and Juanita Duck bought a new car through the luxury catalog. That’s over eighteen thousand dollars of the twenty right there.”
Tom jerked the paper out of her hand and nestled it back in his leather box.
“Why do you have to be so negative?” he demanded. “Why can’t you just be happy for me?”
“I’m happy alright,” Teri insisted in a voice that clearly indicated she was lying. “That’s just terrific. Bill thinks we can just pick up and go to Regionals? I can barely make it to the bathroom. You’ll just have to push twenty thousand dollars worth of soap, Tom, and hope for an invitation next quarter.”
“This is quite an honor.” Tom’s words were sharp and clipped. “I am not going to pass up the chance to start this aspect of the business.”
“What are you talking about?”
Tom looked around and pursed his lips as if wondering whether or not to go on.
Teri decided to be charming.
“I’m sorry, Honey,” she practically gushed. She looked at him with the ‘damsel in distress eyes’ that Belinda Jackson was constantly blabbering about and managed a small but loving smile. “I am just in so much pain. I think the medicine is messing me up. I shouldn’t have taken things out on you. You know I am behind the business one hundred percent. Tell me what’s going on. I’m your wife and partner.”
Tom seemed to take Teri’s words at face value. His bright blue eyes were so void of suspicion that Teri felt a tiny pang of guilt when her husband slid down to the floor and sat just inches away from her.
“Bill and I had a real heart-to-heart,” he began.
“After he tried to steal the Nigerian deal out from under your nose? I find that hard to believe.”
“We got all that cleared up. Bill only has our best interests at heart, honestly.”
“So what did you talk about?” Teri asked.
“Mainly about the business and our future. Bill says it’s not the retailing that sends an independent retailer Mega.”
“It’s the sponsoring?”
“Partially.” Tom seemed hesitant.
“Go on.”
“Well, it’s really sponsoring combined with tools.”
“Tools?”
“Yes. Bill says we have to retail to keep the business legal, but that’s not where the money is. What we need to do is get a healthy downline and make sure everyone is buying all the tools — you know, the books, tapes and CDs. We already share the profit off of everything the Ducks buy. More downline, more tools, more profit.”
“The trick is getting a big downline, though.”
“There’s more,” Tom continued. “The really big money comes from making the tools yourself.”
“How do you do that?”
“First you do something to set yourself apart, something that makes other independent retailers want to emulate you; like go Mega or recruit ten people in a month or make twenty thousand dollars in one quarter or bring the business to an entirely new continent.”
Teri fought to keep the loving wife expression on her face.
“I see. Then what?”
“Then you start talking at functions and try to build a reputation as a good inspirational speaker. You tape some of your speeches and encourage your downline to buy them. If you cut your upline in on the profit, they’ll do the same with their downlines.”
“Can that really work?”
Tom shrugged.
“It certainly worked for Cory Jackson. Now you see why speaking at Regionals is so important to me — to us.”
Teri nodded.
“I guess I can get around good enough now to be left alone for a few days. I can always call Steven if —”
She stopped short when she realized Tom was slowly shaking his head.
“What’s the matter?” Teri asked.
“We’re a package deal. There’s never going to be a Sheik Chic speaker who isn’t happily married and if you don’t go, people will talk. I might never get this chance again.”
“But I can hardly move,” Teri explained. “The pain is still really bad.”
“Sacrifices are stones in the road to success.” Tom looked very sad as he solemnly uttered the familiar Cory Jacksonism.
Marco frowned at the group gathered around him at the cyber-café. Tom Remly told him that the best people to recruit were those that were already successful in their chosen field. They have the disposable income needed to grow the business, his mentor’s email had instructed. Recruit up!
Marco was certain that none of the people that George had invited to this sales seminar were what Tom had in mind. Most were grimy, unshaven and barely washed expatriate Americans, Canadians and Europeans but there were several Nigerians – large, dark men wearing freshly pressed suits and thick gold chains.
Definitely not what Tom had in mind.
There was no small talk among the men, only hard stares directed toward Marco. George sat among them, wearing his usual cynical frown. He was the plant. He would ask all the right questions and show enthusiasm at the appropriate time.
Marco cleared his throat to indicate the meeting was about to begin.
“Thanks for coming this evening. I know you are all interested in this multi-million dollar, international business opportunity.”
Marco paused and looked at the serious eyes facing him. The script called for him to go around the room and have each potential introduce himself and talk a bit about his dreams first. Next Marco was supposed to lead the group in an exercise where they talked about the frustrations of a nine-to-five job.
Marco felt certain that few of these men had ever held traditional employment. If they were friends of George, then they surely weren’t the type of people who would announce their real names and reveal their goals in the middle of a busy café in downtown Abuja.
“So let’s get down to the nitty-gritty,” Marco continued. He was breaking the first rule of Sheik Chic presentation by throwing away the script, but he knew this way was better.
Tom had seen something in him, Marco rationalized, and it wasn’t his ability to memorize a speech. He knew Nigeria, at least better than whoever wrote the independent retailer’s manual.
He wouldn’t let Tom down.
“Bill? Mike Gerkin here.”
Bill Lewis swallowed hard and stared at the phone. He had talked to Mike Gerkin — a Mega Sheik Chic retailer just one rung down from Cory Jackson himself — on a few occasions. At the yearly party that Mike hosted with his wife Renee and at major events like MotoQuest, Bill always managed to wrangle a couple of minutes of Mike’s attention.
He was surprised to get an actual phone call. He always thought that Gerkin didn’t even know his name. Bill was such a little fish in the almost endless pond of Sheik Chic. As Cory Jackson said, the only boundary is your dream.
“What can I do for you, Mike?” Bill asked in a quivering voice.
“Well Bill, I’m going over your organization’s numbers for the month and I have a few questions. Could you help me out?”
Bill tried not to sound too eager. He swung open the top drawer of his filing cabinet and began rooting through files before he answered.
“Of course. I’m right here in the office and I insist that my people keep immaculate records. What’s the problem.”
“Tom Remly. His numbers are way up and I wonder why he’s not on our leadership fast track.”
Bill slammed the cold metal drawer closed and dropped onto his polished leather executive desk chair — purchased from the Sheik Chic entrepreneur collection when he was a little short on sales last month.
“One of his downline retailers bought a car through the business. That’s just a blip. Tom can’t keep those numbers up forever. He’s going to speak at Regionals, but he really doesn’t have legs.”
“That was last month.” Bill heard irritation in Gerkin’s voice. “I’m talking about the growth in Nigeria.”
“Nigeria?” Bill was glad he was sitting because his legs were suddenly weak.
“Yes, Nigeria. I hope you did know that Remly was expanding his business there.”
“Of course. I was with him the whole time; encouraging and guiding.”
“The numbers are just spectacular. He’ll be going Mega before the year is out.”
Bill’s eyes grew wide and he found it difficult to breath. He never thought Tom would go Mega before he did.
“That’s great. Really.” Bill paused to clear his throat. “I’ll do my best to keep encouraging him and make sure he reaches that goal. After all, I am his sponsor.”
“That’s really what I’m calling about. Remly is going Mega. There’s no stopping it now that the ball has started rolling. It’s all downhill now.”
“Well, that’s good to know. It just takes one good leg to make an organization – ”
Gerkin cut him off mid-sentence.
“I’m going to take over as Remly’s sponsor from here on out. He is going Mega and he needs guidance from someone’s who has been there and knows the ropes.”
“But — ”
“There’s no use arguing about it, Bill. This was Cory’s idea.”
“Cory Jackson?” Bill asked in awe.
“That’s the one. Oh and Bill, we love you guys. You know that don’t you? Once Remly hits Mega, we’ll have a talk about your goals, and what we can do to help you reach them.”
Bill gently returned the telephone to its cradle, then picked it up and slammed it down with enough force that the cover to the battery compartment snapped off and flew across the room.
Teri sat on the couch, her legs propped on a stack of pillows. She flipped through the latest Belinda Jackson book — thirty nine ninety five for two hundred pages about the importance of keeping a trim figure and glowing complexion — and watched Tom work at the table. With a pencil held sideways between his lips, he looked boyish and endearing. He clicked away on the laptop, pausing occasionally to pull the pencil out and make a notation in his planner.
“Some tea would sure taste good,” Teri hinted.
“Hmm?” Tom muttered through the pencil.
“Tea. Can you fix me a cup?”
Tom raised his head then immediately looked abashed when he remembered her condition.
“In a minute. I need to finish crunching these numbers.”
Teri leaned back and resumed flipping through Belinda’s latest inanities. She would have liked to turn on the television and spend the afternoon watching the court shows. Teri enjoyed listening to other people’s problems and the no-nonsense judges who put the litigants straight. She could tune out on the shows for hours, and usually did when Tom was out fishing for potentials.
Teri looked at the remote control longingly. When her husband was working at home, he demanded complete and excrutiating silence.
“The Ducks couldn’t have picked a better time to buy a car,” Tom announced. “Your disability and unemployment leaves us pretty short.”
Teri raged inside. She wanted to shout at him that it was not her income that was too low, it was his refusal to buy anything except Sheik Chic’s overpriced merchandise and useless motivational material that made them rely on their credit cards. She wanted to scream at him to get a job and support himself, even if he didn’t care to support his family.
The doorbell rang, interrupting Teri’s silent fuming.
“Can you get that?” Tom asked without looking up.
“Yeah. Certainly. Sure. No problem.” Teri spoke under her breath while she pulled the walker to her, wrapped her hands around the matte metal and hoisted herself up. The chimes rang again before she could hobble across the floor and open the door.
Her jaw dropped when she saw Cory and Belinda Jackson standing on the tiny concrete stoop. Teri took in Belinda’s sapphire business suit, the exact color of Cory’s silk shirt, the long limousine double parked in the parking lot and the huge smiles, familiar from being featured in so many issues of The Sheik News, hovering just inches from her.
“Teri?” Belinda Jackson squealed the question out. Teri barely had a chance to nod before she was swooped up in a hug of bright blue wool. The moment she was released, Cory Jackson laid a fatherly hand on her shoulder.
“Heard about your accident and it sure is good to see you up and looking beautiful again,” he said in the good-old-boy voice that made hundred of thousands of independent retailers trust him. “Belinda and I have some terrific news. Can we come in?”
Teri nodded again. With uncoordinated, jerky motions she moved out of the doorway and turned her walker around. She saw Tom standing behind her, his jaw slack and his eyes wide open.
The room was a wreck. Extra pillows and blankets were strewn across the couch, Tom’s papers were scattered across the table and the floor hadn’t been vacuumed in weeks. Instead of the blossoming starbursts of vacuum tracks that Belinda Jackson described as the hallmark of a well-kept house, there were cracker crumbs and dried clumps of mud.
Even with her back to the couple, Teri could feel their eyes taking in the clutter and disarray. Despite her pain, tiredness and slow movement, Teri felt ashamed that she had let the townhouse slip so far. The place had never been large, but when it was dirty it looked even tinier.
“Please have a seat.” Tom had recovered enough from the surprise to speak. With one motion he gestured to the couch and managed to sweep up the dingiest of the pillows and blankets. He practically ran toward the bedroom with his arms full of the bedding.
“Can I get you some coffee?” he called over his shoulder.
“No, no. We can only stay a minute.” Cory Jackson settled back in the couch and looked rather at home. His wife perched on the edge, as if afraid to lean to far back and dirty the immaculate suit.
Teri made her way to the rocking chair on the other side of the room. She eased herself down and swung the walker to the side so she didn’t have to speak over it.
“Please excuse the mess,” she said. “I’ve only just got out of the hospital and —”
She stopped herself. She didn’t owe them an explanation, she realized. Even if she were sitting here with two healthy, strong legs under her, she didn’t need to apologize to the Jacksons for anything. They were the ones who owed her an apology. They were the ones who had broke off chunks of her life and marriage until there was nothing left but the thinnest veneer of happiness.
Tom scurried back in the room. He stood behind Teri’s chair and caressed her hair, the only gesture of affection he had shown her in months.
“This is quite an honor,” he said. “And certainly a surprise.”
“The honor is all ours,” Cory Jackson said easily. “It isn’t often we get to congratulate a new Mega, but when we do it makes our day. That’s the reason we got in the business in the first place, to help others succeed.”
Tom’s hand stopped stroking.
“What did you say?” he asked.
Cory Jackson’s grin grew broader. He leaned forward and held out his hand.
“Congratulations on reaching Mega. You kids have a bright future at Sheik Chic and we’re looking forward to helping you go even further.”
Tom walked toward the extended hand as if he were approaching God and receiving salvation. Hesitantly, he took Cory’s hand and gave it a small and gentle shake.
“What do you kids say to a nice dinner out to celebrate? Does your wife feel up to it, Tom?”
Tom nodded slowly, as if he were in a daze.
“Good, good. Belinda, let’s take these kids out for a meal they won’t forget.”
Going out for dinner was more complicated than Teri could have imagined. Just creeping to their bedroom exhausted her. Tom pulled on his best Sheik Chic suit with lightening speed and tried to help her dress and apply makeup, but his excitement made him more of a hindrance.
“I can’t believe it. I just can’t believe it,” he chirped while Teri tugged a pair of pantyhose over her bruised and sore legs. “Did he say ‘Mega’? Did he really say that we went Mega?”
“That’s what it sounded like,” Teri answered. Like Tom, she spoke low so that Jacksons wouldn’t overhear. The townhouse was small and not particularly sturdy. The narrow hallway between the bedroom and the living room provided little privacy. She hoisted herself off the bed and used her walker for balance while she eased the nylons over her hips.
Tom sunk onto the bed and handed her a blue skirt.
“I just can’t believe it,” he repeated.
“We shouldn’t get too excited. Not until we hear the whole story.”
Teri looked at her husband fearfully even as the words came out of her mouth, but instead of chastising her negativity, Tom nodded in agreement.
“I just can’t believe it.”
Teri stepped into the skirt and tried to come up with a plan for reaching the zipper in the back. After a moment, she settled back on the bed and rolled onto her side. Once she managed to jerk the zipper up, she shot Tom a dirty look, but he was too busy fantasizing about the Mega lifestyle to notice.
“Do you know what this means?” he asked while Teri put on her blouse.
“What?”
“Everything is going to change.”
“Like what?” Teri held her breath. She didn’t know exactly what she wanted Tom to say but she hoped it would include a baby, more time at home and a happier life together. Even if he said those words, she didn’t know if it would change anything between them.
“Everything,” Tom said assuredly. “We’ll make a killing on the motivational speaking market. Tapes, appearances, maybe even a book or two. You’ll have everything you ever wanted — jewelry, a vacation home, sports car. You name it Teri. If this is really happening, everything is going to change.”
Tom was still beaming when Teri fumbled to reach the floor and slide on the coordinating shoes.
“Let me help you, Honey,” he said. He took the sensible-heeled pumps from her hand, knelt down and wiggled them onto her feet.
The Jacksons were still on the couch when Tom bounded out of the bedroom. Teri followed him, slowly and carefully picking her way through the hallway. Between steps she stole glances at their guests. Belinda stared at the framed poster on the wall opposite of her. Cory’s legs were straightened out in front of him, his arms lined the back of the couch. Both of them looked empty, bored and sad.
“Ready to go?” Cory Jackson asked. The smile that had stirred the crowd into a frenzy at MotoQuest sprung to his lips. Belinda Jackson cocked her head toward her husband and gazed at him with an expression that suggested that he had just said something thought-provoking. “We have reservations at a little French place across town. Ever been?”
Teri shook her head. She couldn’t remember the last time she had ate out at anywhere besides a steak house.
“It’s supposed to be the best place around,” Cory continued. “And the best is what you get now. That’s what going Mega is all about.”
“Are we really Mega retailers?” Tom asked excitedly. “How can that be? We haven’t even reached Ultra level yet.”
“We’ll talk about that at dinner,” Jackson answered. Something in his voice made Teri shiver. “First let’s get to know each other. We’ll take our car — plenty of room in there.” He stood up and motioned at Belinda and Teri. “You girls can sit in the back. I’m sure you have a lot to talk about.”
The drive across the city was excruciating. Despite the fluid, smooth ride of the huge car, Teri couldn’t get comfortable. Belinda sat too close to her — in the middle rather than against the other door — and fixed her with the never-wavering smile of a beauty pageant contestant.
“You must be so proud of your husband,” Belinda said. She had a companionable hand on Teri’s shoulder and said the word husband in breathless awe. “I know it is wonderful to see all of his hard work pay off.”
Teri glanced at Tom in the front seat, engaged in an animated conversation with their host. The spirited instrumental music coming from the back speakers made it impossible to hear what was going on in the front seat.
“Being a Mega wife carries so much responsibility.” Teri could have been listening to one of Belinda’s motivational tapes. She said the same sort of nonsense with the same heavy inflections.
“You have to be a real role model to your entire downline,” Belinda continued. Sitting this close, Teri realized the woman was younger than she had thought. She couldn’t be much older than Teri.
“We constantly tell the retailers that because of the hours a husband and wife put in together, Sheik Chic is a ‘marriage building business’.” Belinda paused to smooth her red hair. “This doesn’t ring true if there is obvious marital strife at the Mega level. Not only do you have to be the perfect wife and mother, but you have to show everyone that you think your husband is the perfect man. Edify Tom.”
“What?” Teri interrupted.
“Edify him. That’s going to be a new catch phrase on our motivational materials next year. Edify your leaders. And the husband is the leader of the family, right?”
Teri shrugged.
“I don’t understand.”
“It means elevate them. See them as holding higher standards than yourself and then emulate them.”
Teri shook her head.
“I don’t think that’s what edify means.”
“Oh yes.” Belinda nodded her head so vigorously that the tight French twist jiggled and a bobby pin became dislodged.
Without warning, the music ceased.
“You kids doing okay back there?” Cory asked.
“Just fine, Love,” Belinda gushed.
“Good, good,” Cory said. “You’ve got an important role to play, Teri. Belinda will show you the ropes.”
Teri opened her mouth to reply, but Cory switched the music back on before she had a chance to talk. She watched his mouth move and wondered what instruction Tom was receiving.
“You’ll have to prepare a few speeches yourself, of course,” Belinda said. “That can wait until after you heal up, although your road to recovery might be a very inspirational topic.”
“Where would I speak?”
“At regional gatherings, local women’s groups; there’s a large circuit where you can refine your presentation before MotoQuest.”
“I don’t think… I’m not very good speaking in front of crowds.”
“Don’t worry. No one is at first. We’ll help you out with that. That is actually one of you most important duties. As soon as you get your name out there, we’ll get you in the recording studio and start making some tapes. After you’re over the jitters, we’ll video some of your speeches.”
“And that’s important?” Teri asked.
Belinda squeezed her shoulder and laughed.
“Honey,” she said with the slightest bit of a Southern accent. “Ninety five percent of our income comes from those tapes, videos and books. You don’t pay for the Mega lifestyle selling makeup and clothing.”
Teri looked down at her hands. The motivational tools – the endless stream of nonsense and catchphrases – were major components of their huge credit card balance. Now, through some miracle, they were Mega. They had beat the odds written in tiny print at the bottom of the yearly Sheik Chic business renewal. She and Tom were the one in a million couple who would be able to pay off all of that debt, but they would pay it off using the money from those below them that were still locked into the system.
“Don’t worry,” Belinda said with an understanding smile. “It’s not that hard to be a Mega wife. You just have to learn how to string a few snappy phrases together and perfect looking at Tom with adoration, even if you can’t stand him anymore. It’s a piece of cake.”
Teri watched Tom pace around the bed. She snuggled deeper under the heavy blankets and tried to focus on her magazine.
“Can you believe it?” Tom pumped his arms while he spoke. “We went Mega, met Cory Jackson and collected our hundred thousand dollar bonus in one hour. This is the best day of my life. Things are going to change now, Teri. They really are.”
“Lucky you answered that letter from the guy in Nigeria.”
Tom stopped moving and stared at his wife.
“There was a little luck, but mostly it was hard work. Marco needed a lot of persuasion. Anyways, you don’t know how much time and effort I put into prospecting everyday for the last few months. We deserve this.”
Tom walked to the dresser and stared at the bonus check that Cory had presented to them over dinner. Teri watched him touch it, as if to make sure it was real.
One hundred thousand dollars, Teri thought. Enough that they could pay off their debts, make a nice down payment on a little house and still have a little nest egg left over. Enough that they could get out of the entire business and give themselves a start in something worthwhile and noble.
“I’m sure we do.” Teri dropped the magazine. “Tom, did Cory mention that most of our income would be coming from tapes and speaking engagements, things like that?”
“Yeah, he mentioned that.”
“Do you have a problem with that?”
Tom looked at her blankly.
“Why should I?”
“Because everyone below us would be losing money,” Teri explained. “You know how it is. The cost of all those tools eclipses what anyone can sell in a month. They’re basically giving us money.”
“And we’re giving them a service. We’ll be showing them how to duplicate our success.”
Teri studied at her husband. She tried to find someone she recognized, someone she loved. She wondered what she ever saw in him beyond his thick blond hair and piercing blue eyes.
“Would you consider doing something else?” she asked. “If I asked you to choose between me and Sheik Chic, which would it be?”
Tom put turned away and fingered the check again.
“Don’t be ridiculous, Teri.”
“Which would it be?” she repeated.
Tom snapped his head around.
“Are you asking me to give up the only thing I’ve ever been successful at, the only thing I’ve ever enjoyed, business that has been my entire life for the past few years? Why? So that you can play out some schoolgirl fantasy where a man gives up everything for you? Grow up, Teri.”
Teri swallowed hard and hid her face behind the magazine. The tears in her eyes blurred her vision so that she couldn’t read the articles.
“I’m not going to do this anymore,” she said with extreme calmness and control. “I want a divorce.”
Steven helped her pack while Tom attended the regional conference. There wasn’t much to do, just load her clothing into a few large cardboard boxes then carry the boxes to the small rental truck.
“It doesn’t look like I’ve gone at all,” Teri said before she closed the door to the little townhouse for the last time. “There was so little of me here anyways.”
“You’re probably entitled to half the furniture,” Steven said. “And you ought to pack up some dishes and cookware. You’ll need them.”
Teri shook her head.
“I’ll buy some when I get there,” she said. “Either I’ll buy new or I’ll get them at a garage sale. Either way, I’ll pick everything out myself.”
“You don’t have to go all the way across state, you know. There’s a great nursing school here in town.”
Teri tossed her key inside the townhouse and closed the door. She walked to the parking lot without much trouble. Her legs felt strong and sturdy, but her walker was in the cab of the truck waiting for her when her muscles got fatigued. She would trade it in for a cane as soon as possible.
“I feel the need to start over,” she said.
“Are you afraid of running into Tom.”
“Not really. There’s nothing left to say to him. We’re going to stay married, after all.”
“I don’t understand that at all,” Steven said with a disappointed sigh.
“That was the deal. He needs a wife for what he’s doing. I get everything that’s left of our Mega bonus check after we pay off our bills and he gets the right to talk about his sweet wife and happy marriage.”
“Won’t people get suspicious if you are never around?”
Teri shrugged.
“The polite fiction will be that I am painfully shy.”
“If he agreed to that, he must think he’s going to be making big money in the future. You should get a percentage of that.”
Teri climbed into the truck, settled behind the wheel and buckled her seatbelt.
“No way. I don’t want that money.”
Tom shut the door for her and rested him arms across the open window.
“But you’re still married. What if you meet someone and you want to become more than friends.”
He gave her a heavy look as if he was afraid she wouldn’t understand his hint.
“That won’t happen.” Teri paused to start the engine. She listened to it hum for a moment before continuing. “I want to be by myself for a while. Figure out who I am. That sounds stupid, doesn’t it?”
“Not at all.”
“I think that’s why I don’t want to go back to my parent’s place. I want to go somewhere new. I don’t want to fall back into any old patterns. I don’t want my mom cooking for me or my boyfriend waiting to take me out on Friday night. I want to be selfish for a while. I want to make my own choices and live my own life.”
Steven reached inside the cab and stroked her cheek. His finger felt warm and his touch comforting.
It would be so easy to love him, Teri thought. I could go to school and fund a little clinic here just as easily as anywhere else.
She caught his hand and gave it a tight squeeze.
“You never can tell,” she said through a smile so big it made her cheeks ached.
She put the truck in gear and pulled out of the parking space with more joy than she ever felt behind the wheel of the sleek, luxurious car.
The bright sunlight reflected off the buildings and concrete around her, obscuring everything except the road just ahead.
© Copyright 2003-04, Janet Marie Mills - (The Creative Commons Liscense on this site does not apply to this Copyrighted work which is published with the permission of the author)