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As I talk, I glance around the conference table, assessing the response to the presentation. There’s definitely interest, and more than one man is nodding or leaning forward—in terms of body language, a very good sign.
Frank’s expression is probably the most open. He’s got a half smile, and his eyes crinkle at the corners. He’s impressed and proud.
My confidence soars, and I continue to describe how the TV spots will translate into print ads as well as the virtual realm.
Chris explains that more companies are using the virtual realm to reach out to potential customers, including appealing to a younger generation, a generation we at Z Design feel is a perfect consumer fit for Freedom Bikes.
As Chris describes in greater detail some of the approaches we’d use—video game advertising, a development of a virtual world, a free Internet-based game that would allow users to design and build a bike—I slip out the conference room door and check my voice mail.
It’s the school nurse. Eva has the stomach flu, has a fever of 103, and is throwing up.
With a glance at my watch—it’s one-fifteen, the school day won’t end for another hour and a half—I call the school and speak to the nurse. The nurse has Eva lying on the cot, but I hear Eva crying in the background.
“I feel so sorry for her,” the nurse tells me. “She’s thrown up three times in the last hour, and I wish I could give her something for her fever and pain, but we’re not allowed to.”
“I’m in downtown Seattle,” I tell the nurse, “in the middle of a meeting, but I’ve got another half hour here, at least, and that’s not including the drive. I’ve no idea if there will be bridge traffic, either.”
“Oh dear. Who else can we call? Who is on your emergency contact list?”
My emergency contact list has my dad on it, but I can’t have him get Eva and risk exposing my mom to something so virulent.
“Is there no way you can come now?” the nurse presses. “She’s just miserable.”
Glancing at the boardroom, I can see the flickering colors of the PowerPoint presentation through the frosted glass of the conference room window. Chris’s presentation should be nearly over. And then it’ll be back to me again.
I’m to bring the meeting to a close with my concluding speech, which again touches on the necessity for brands to engage their audiences emotionally and how we must introduce and rebuild the Freedom brand with edge and relevancy.
I haven’t written down the whole spiel since I know it so well, but Chris has seen my notes and is familiar with how I wrap my conclusion into an open Q&A period with the executive members.
My talk will last only fifteen minutes or so, but the Q&A could go an hour or more. It just depends on management interest.
I hear the toilet flushing in the nurse’s office, and the nurse is running water, giving Eva a wet towel to wash off her face.
“I’m coming now,” I say to the nurse, steeling myself not to think about the presentation. It’s nearly over. Chris can handle this. He’s smart, talented, together. He can easily wrap up and handle the questions. “Tell Eva to hang tight, someone will be there very soon.”
Hanging up I try the office but my call goes straight to voice mail. Next I try Allie—same thing. Robert is my next call, and he picks up but he’s in the middle of a meeting.
Back in the conference room, I listen as Chris wraps up his talk. I wait until he’s done, and then I thank Chris and ask everyone if we can take a brief recess.
The Freedom management seems happy to have a few minutes to stand and stretch their legs. I use the break to corral Chris and let him know Eva’s sick, everyone at the office is busy, and I must go.
Chris just shakes his head. “Don’t go now.”
“She’s really ill.”
“She can make it another half hour, can’t she?”
She could. She’s got the flu, not consumption. But I know she’s miserable, and I know she could use a bath and some Children’s Tylenol and comfort from me. “Chris, you’ve got my notes. You can do the wrap-up and handle the Q and A.”
“Marta, this is your dream. This is the account of your career.”
He’s right again. It is. But he doesn’t know what it’s like, needing to be in two places at once, torn between responsibilities, needing and wanting to let neither side down. “If we weren’t at the end of the presentation, I wouldn’t do it—”
“Then don’t do it now.” He drops his voice, looks over his shoulder. “Marta, they like us. They like what we’re doing here today. They love Robert’s film. But it’s not a done deal. You’re our closer. You’re the one that gets the ink on the deals. You’re our big gun.”
And I’m also Eva’s mother, the only family Eva has. She doesn’t have a dad. She doesn’t have brothers or sisters. It’s just me. And if I don’t come for her, no one will. “Chris, I don’t have a choice.”
He glares down at me. He doesn’t approve, not at all, but he’s not married, he doesn’t have a kid, and he doesn’t understand how I can be more afraid of failing Eva than of failing professionally.
“Come on, let’s just get this moving,” I say, making eye contact with one of the executives and then nodding at Frank, who has taken a seat again at the table. “I’ll start us again, let them know I’ve got to leave due to a family emergency and that you’ll be wrapping up.”
Chris is stony-faced, but he can’t make me stay. Yes, he’s smart, successful, and the second in command at Z Design, but boss trumps, and I’m the boss.
Fifteen minutes later, as I take the elevator down to the parking garage, I’m hit by the strongest wave of regret. What I’ve done by walking out on the meeting isn’t acceptable, not in the business world. Successful executives have families, but of course those families don’t intrude, and in the workplace, family issues are carefully concealed.
But leaving isn’t easy for me. It tears me up. I’ve worked hard preparing for today, looked forward to it. After starting my truck, I back up and then brake, tempted to park again and run back up. I can nail this account. I can get this.
But what about Eva? What do I do with her? Leave her in the school office until I’ve answered a dozen questions that Chris is just as capable of answering?
If I were the one who was sick, and if I had been throwing up and running a fever, what would I want?
I’d want my mom to come and get me.
I’d want my mom to take me home and hold me and let me know that I’m not alone.
Fortunately, traffic on 5 North is light, and the 520 bridge heading east isn’t too slow. I’m able to reach the 84th Street exit in less than fifteen minutes and have Eva home in another ten after that.
Eva’s sick the moment we walk through the door, and after she rinses her mouth and washes her face, she collapses on the carpet in the hall, just so she “can be near the toilet.” I get her pillow and a blanket and cover her and then track down Tylenol for her fever.
She throws the sticky pink syrup right back up and then lies down again, wan and exhausted, on the floor.
Once she dozes off, I head to my room, strip off my clothes, and shower, then change into a T-shirt and sweats. Being a single mom is never easy, but when kids are sick, it sometimes feels impossible. Nights like these, I think I’d do just anything, give anything, to have another adult here, helping out, running errands, giving me a smile.
In short, reminding me that this, whatever the difficulty is, won’t last forever.
Chapter Fourteen
Nine o’clock comes, and I finally, thankfully, have Eva in her own bed sleeping soundly. I’m just about to call it a night, too, when the phone rings.
The house phone never rings this late, and instinctively I wonder if there’s been an accident or if Mom has taken a turn for the worse. But it’s not an emergency or Dad calling, it’s Taylor Young phoning to discuss the field trip I’ve signed up for. I think she’s double-checking the number of kids I can accommodate in my car, but it’s not t
hat at all.
She’s calling to lobby on behalf of a friend. Her friend really wants to go on this field trip, especially since all her friends are chaperones, and Taylor is asking me to skip this field trip and wait for another one so Andrea Carter can participate.
For a moment I’m speechless, amazed—even impressed—by Taylor’s audacity, but as soon as my shock wears off, resentment sets in. It’s been a long day, and I’m not in the mood for this. I’m exhausted, Eva’s ill, and it’s Taylor’s daughter making Eva’s life at school a living hell.
It’s Taylor’s control freak nature that’s making this school year more miserable than usual.
Taylor doesn’t own the school.
Taylor doesn’t get to decide who’s in, who’s out.
Taylor’s not in charge.
“I’m looking forward to chaperoning the field trip on November third,” I say in my nicest voice possible, considering I’m so tired that I could fall asleep standing up. “Eva’s so excited, too. It’s the first time I’ve chaperoned a field trip since we moved here.”
“Would you be willing to chaperone a field trip later in the year instead?”
Maybe Taylor didn’t hear me. Eva’s excited about my chaperoning the field trip to the Pacific Science Center. She wants me to chaperone the field trip. I’m not going to cancel out on her. “Eva’s looking forward to my going.”
“Yes, I understand, but we’re in a bit of a bind, and I was hoping you could help us out. Andrea really wanted to chaperone this trip, and she’d thought she’d sent her form in early enough to be one of the moms picked.”
I’m not sure I see the bind. Andrea didn’t get her form in in time. “Hopefully Andrea will be able to chaperone one of those other field trips you mentioned.”
“But Andrea is so disappointed. She was planning on going on this one, and she’s made arrangements for her youngest. She hired a baby-sitter—”
“I’m sure she could cancel the sitter. The field trip isn’t for three weeks.”
“I just thought perhaps you could switch. It’s not as though it’s a big deal to you—”
“Why isn’t it a big deal?” I interrupt Taylor, the softness in my voice hiding my anger. Taylor should not push me this hard. She doesn’t realize I’m not like all the other mommies around her. I don’t need her, like her, or want her. She’s nothing to me, and I have no problem squashing her, if that’s what I’ve got to do.
