CABERNET ZIN (Cabernet Zin Wine Country) (20 page)

“Why don’t you come into the office and use the equipment here? Then do your cleanup this weekend? Exeter Corporation is in big trouble and I need you to help them resolve it.”

“That’s Mable’s client.”

“She’s nice and means well but Exeter is in serious trouble. She does well maintaining most situations but this needs someone with more experience until they get their parts through final testing and launch. A couple of other items we need help with too. How about getting back in here for a more regular arrangement?”

“I still have the kids to cover.”

“Can you put them in daycare for a few weeks?”

“I don’t know. I’ll have to talk with my wife.”

“Certainly. I think I can hold things together today. Can you get things stabilized at home, talk with your wife, and be in tomorrow, early?”

“Let me work on it.”

Zack spent the day carting their ruined belongings out of the basement and slopping them down on the curb. Other neighbors on the street busied themselves with the same project. Tired grumpy faces all along the street tipped pieces of their lives into squat depressing piles of ruin. Zack had boxes he didn’t want to even open. He just mashed down the soggy cardboard and pushed them into trash bags. He carried the heavy loads up the basement steps in a laundry basket then poured them into the toy wagon until he feared the wheels would fall flip off from the weight when he rolled the load to the curb. Only a few months earlier he had carried all this stuff in here from their old house.

The heavy woman down the street waddled down her driveway. She heaved a wet towel onto her pile of ruined things. Her wispy hair curled tighter than normal in the humid dampness. Her dark wrinkled sweating skin shined with the luster of polished wood. Zack saw how her whole body heaved from the exertion. She straightened and waved to Zack. He waved back after he tipped his wagon load over his pile. She moved toward him, giving another wave for him to pause a moment. Zack waited. “Hello, Mrs. Flint.”

“Hi Zack. This is just awful, isn’t it?” She waved her arms by her sides gesturing up and down the whole street.

“I can’t believe it.”

“I have a problem. I can’t get this old mattress out of the basement that I used for my dogs, when I had dogs.”

“Oh, I’ll bet that is very heavy.”

“It’s big, heavy, and sloppy wet. I got it rolled up and tied but I can’t slide it let alone drag it up the steps. You are young and strong and might be able to help an old woman out of a tight spot?”

“Dogs, eh?”

“Don’t blame you for saying no; it’s stinky, wet, and cumbersome.”

Zack knew Mrs. Flint was one of the nicest people on the street. He could hardly say anything but, “Let me grab my claw hammer, which might give me a better grip on the mattress.”

Zack followed her into her basement and other than the neatly rolled up and tied mattress he saw she had mostly cleaned everything out already. He still had much more to do. Zack sunk the hammer claw into the fabric so it hooked into the internal bedding springs and he dragged the wet monster across the floor and up the stairs. It left a soggy debris trail of old fibers and stuffing plus accumulated goo from the backed up rainwater. Clumps of dusty spider webs and dirt dribbled in piles, seemingly pulled from the corners of the basement. He heaved the mattress up the steps and through the door. He pulled it along the cement driveway and leaned it against the other debris from her house. Zack bent over and rested his hands on his knees to let the thumping in his chest calm while he breathed deep and long. He was surprised how the wet mattress wore him out. “When I open my fitness gym I’m going to install a wet mattress machine. That is intense.”

“I knew I’d never get that out. I’m glad for your help. Can I give you some money?”

Zack stood, “No. Good practice for my two soaked couches I have to bring out of my basement. Glad I could help.”

“My sons all moved away a long time ago and my husband passed away ten years ago –”

“Sorry to hear.”

“Thank you. This kind of stuff I miss them an extra bit. So thank you, Zack.”

Zack bent his back straight and limped to his house until the strain seemed to subside and he could stand straight again. He turned as he picked up the handle of his empty wagon and saw Mrs. Flint waving at him and mouthing
Thank You
to him. Zack waved back and returned to the house.

Lydia said, as he went passed the doorway to the kitchen when he crossed the landing to the basement, “That was nice helping Mrs. Flint.”

“That mattress was HEAVY!” Zack said.

“Why didn’t you wait until you had the rest of our basement emptied before helping others? Like those plane instructions to give yourself oxygen before giving it to others? That’s what you do all the time. You forget about us and help anyone else out first chance you get.”

“She was stuck. There was no way she could get that thing out of there. She would never find any plumbers or cleanup companies for weeks.” Zack took another step down to the basement.

“You know, if we lived in our old house we’d still have all our stuff.”

“It could have flooded there too.”

“No, I drove by on the way home from work and it’s fine over there. This subdivision looks like a cross between a garbage heap and an old war zone. Everything is pristine at our old subdivision.”

“I don’t know what to say.” Zack’s arms and back hurt from his work all day alone and that floppy mattress. He’d rented several big fans from one of the hardware stores twenty minutes away because all the local stores had lent theirs out already. The fans hummed in the basement. The whole house smelled damp and the beginnings of mold. He and their property owner would have to worry about black mold inside the basement walls. He said over the sound of the fans, “They want me back at work full-time.”

“That’s fine. Amanda can continue as she has when you’ve gone to California. You won’t be able to take any more of those trips anyway.”

“I have a commitment there.”

“You have a commitment to us, here! To us first! Call them and tell them our situation has changed.”

“What is your problem about that place?”

“You get to play all the time and I have to go to work every day. Every day! You don’t think I’d like to be doing something fun?”

“Any time you want to pitch in you can share this fun I’m having carrying soggy stuff out of the basement.”

“That’s your job.”

“I thought so.” Zack dropped his carrying basket down the stairs to fill up. “How do we figure this out for the both of us?”

“We can’t unless you come up with a job that can replace my salary.” Lydia spun around, her fingers at her neck as if something cloyed at her, “We fight so much … I think we should consider a divorce.”

Zack was stunned. “You’re just throwing that out to shock.”

“No. I’m serious. Neither of us has fun anymore. I can’t stand what you’ve become.”

“And what is that?”

“This guy that stays at home, plays at this or that, yet can’t dress the kids in matching clothes.”

“If you want a divorce then fine. I’ll take the kids and leave.”

“You know if we share custody of the kids then you have to stay within so many miles.”

“Share? I’ll take one you take the other.”

“Like Solomon?”

“Exactly. You pick one. Noah who looks like me or Grace that looks more like you? Which one?”

“You can’t do that.”

“I think we can do whatever minimizes the loss of money to the lawyers.”

“Of course, they are the only ones that win. But the kids need to grow up together.”

“They need parents who don’t fight, too. Look at the stress they carry from our fighting. It’s in their struggles at school.” Zack asked, “Are you really serious about getting a divorce?”

Lydia sighed, “I don’t know. I just know the thing we have isn’t working. I despise you for making me work every day while you stay home.”

“Well, my work is demanding me back full-time. That should make you elated.”

“It’s a start,” she went back to the living room and her television cooking show. Zack thought,
as if she ever cooked
.

Zack drove to work. His fingers felt wrinkly from all the soggy work at home. He must have worn off the skin at the top of the wrinkles so even with dry hands he had strange ridges.

“Hi Harold.”

“Hi Zack. I put you in the cube at the end by the window.”

“The old intern desk?”

“Well, you’ve been out of the office so long that I swapped out your old desk a few times as we shuffled people around between departments.”

“That’s fine. It’s quiet over there and better for video conferencing.”

“What I was thinking of, too.”

Zack walked to the desk and sat down. The computer monitor came up and Zack logged in. His work data was stored on cloud servers and readily available. He burned through his emails and took care of the phone calls to Mexico. His Asia clients wouldn’t be up for hours. He’d need to stay late too. He went over to Mable and helped her dig through her issues. He made calls with her and they hammered together a solid plan.

Mable said, “Thanks Zack. Do you have big plans for the weekend, since today is Friday?”

“No big plans. Just cleaning the house.” He did not elaborate so he could avoid the awkward pity that might come with explaining the flooding. Zack returned to his desk, worked through a backlog of reports, and ensured the test lab kept his projects on track. He checked his watch and his Asia team, while early risers, would still be sleeping. He wondered how the kids were doing with Amanda but refrained from calling.

Zack glanced up from his desk as the other workers in the office left for home, fading away quietly from their desks and back to their families. As the clock passed six in the evening, Zack brought up the video conference call software and clicked on the team members. He dialed in when their icons populated the sidebar. He went through the task lists and updated status on all of them. The office overhead lights dimmed. Zack knew the lights were on both a timer and a motion sensor array. He flipped on his desk lamp knowing that by sitting in his cubical he remained invisible to those sensors. He adjusted the project timing charts for their customer and emailed the revised documents out so their customer would have the updates when they arrived in the office Monday morning.

Zack collected his things and stood. He turned off his desk light.

Harold’s light still shined up from his cube. The rest of the place remained dark and empty. “Zack, come over here.” The office sensors bought a bank of lights up as Zack walked toward Harold’s desk. “Have a seat.” Harold steepled his fingers, his elbows sitting on the desk. “Zack. I’m not sure how to say this. I appreciate your help. Management ordered me to cut people from the department. I let Mable go at lunch. I’m sorry but I have to let you go too.”

Zack sat back in his chair. “You could have told me over the phone and saved me coming in today.”

“Zack. I needed you to fix the Mable thing. You did a great job. You have too much stuff going on in your personal life to focus on this work as I need you to. I’m expecting this to be the first wave of at least two personnel cuts. I’m not sure I’ll survive the next one. I’m fifty-three and they keep asking me about early retirement packages. They are crap packages. If I don’t accept then I risk being fired without any retirement. You’re just starting in your career and have lots of time to try different companies. I spent too long here and they have me shackled to the buzz saw.” He stood up and held his hand out to Zack. “Zack, I sincerely appreciate your work here. Do you want me to walk out with you?”

Zack shook his hand, “No. I know the way.”

“When things improve we’ll need help and you’ll be one of the first I, or anyone, call to bring back.”

“Keep my phone number and email address in your file.”

“Of course. Thanks Zack.”

Zack walked to his car thinking
work for a big company and have a nice stable job
– until the next recession. Zack saw the gray darkness punched through by dim street lamps outside the parking structure. The risky winery investment he could see improvements where its position improved. The blending work. The wedding and movie events that brought new wine customers. What was risk?
Safe secure job
. Jobs were anything but safe and secure. It was just like a corral of sheep not realizing the trough of feed before them meant they could be plucked out at any time for slaughter. They gave up control for that unthinking feeder bar.

Zack pulled in. Lydia’s car already sat in the driveway while Amanda’s car remained.

“How was your first day back in the big corporate world?” Amanda smiled hopefully, standing inside on the landing just finished putting her shoes on.

“Very interesting day, for sure. I adjusted to the pace as if I never left.”

“Mrs. Steel is in with the kids. I was on my way home.”

“Thanks, Amanda.”