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Tipping Point Ch. 01

By: coaster2



Chapter 1: Slip Slidin' Away

It was late Friday afternoon and I was half asleep, sitting ... or more accurately slouching in one of those "designed for discomfort" chairs that every airport features. I'd flown in from North Platte, Nebraska, with a tight connection to home base, Cincinnati. No such luck. My commuter flight was on time, but the 737 was nowhere to be found when I got to Denver. It was the airline's hub, but there was no aircraft at my gate. "A mechanical," the girl at the counter said. "We'll let you know." Yeah, right!

I flipped open my cell phone and called home. It rang five times before the answer machine kicked in. I left a message for my wife, Sylvia, telling her that I was delayed and wouldn't be home until late. I looked at my watch and realized she wouldn't be home until later anyway. Friday night had become her night out with "the girls." Ever since she went back to work five years ago she had been exerting her independence. I wondered how much that had to do with her deteriorating attitude toward me and our son, Tommy.

I admit I've been on the road far too much lately; lately being the last three years. It's all a result of the company's "belt tightening." Things hadn't been going well at Faraday and Crosse. We'd been losing market share to competitors. The company made packaging equipment, and had for many years. Old Jonas Faraday, still alive at nearly ninety, founded the company following WWII. At one time, Faraday & Crosse had been a big player in the packaging business across North America. Lately, however, it hadn't been much of a player at all.

We'd been caught and passed by several competitors, both domestic and foreign, and that had resulted in some drastic cutbacks at the plant, as well as in the field. I've got seniority, so that was the good news. I'm also the best service tech the company has. That's not bragging, it's just a matter of having been around longer than the others. Most of the other guys who had worked with me have either retired or quit. 

What started out as a six man department was now down to three. On top of that, our quality had been slipping, so I spend more time fixing things that should never have left the factory. Then there was the cost cutting edict. Bonuses disappeared, along with a lot of other benefits. Gone was the company's contribution to the pension plan, the accumulated time-off benefit, and the sick days benefit. I never took advantage of them anyway, but they meant something to a lot of other people.

A couple of years ago we changed travel agents, and at the same time a new epistle came down from above. Any travel had to be authorized by the individual's supervisor. All extended travel (three days or more) should commence on Sunday to avoid wasting a day's work. Return travel was not to commence until after 4pm unless no other option was available that same day. Then there was the matter of our new travel agent.

I was assigned to a woman name Sue Fracas. What an appropriate name! Sue's mandate, I found out later, was to route my travel by the most economic (read cheap) method possible. In addition, our schedule would be set by our supervisor to maximize efficiency. That meant leaving Sunday and getting back Friday after being in two or three different customer plants. It didn't matter how urgent the situation was with our customer, we were going to be efficient, no matter what.

Once the assignments were set, the supervisor would contact the travel agent and she would make the flight, hotel, and rental car arrangements. Take a wild guess how well that worked. After several colossal screw-ups, not to mention irate customers, the plan was scrapped and we went back to making our own travel arrangements. Well, our own except the travel agent would book the flights, hotels, and rental cars, but we would get to tell them where and when we wanted to go, and when we wanted to return. The result was little different. The capper was when Mrs. Fracas routed me home to Cincinnati on a Friday night from St. Louis via Dallas. Apparently, she saved the company fifty dollars.

My son, Tommy, had been listening to my complaints about this woman and suggested I book my trips on my own computer. It was easy to do, he said, and was happy to show me how. In a moment of brainlessness, I agreed, and we set up my next week's travel. Tommy was right. It was easy. On top of that, I could get discounts at various motels and car rental places that I know we weren't getting now.

I was pretty proud of myself right up until the moment the General Manager called me into his office and proceeded to drill me a new rectum. I turned out that Mrs. Sue Fracas was a personal friend of Mrs. Joan Whipple, wife of said General Manager. She found out about my handling my own travel and complained to Mrs. Whipple, who filled the ear of Mr. Whipple. Hence my whipping from Mr. Whipple. 

It was at that point I knew I was beaten. He didn't give a damn about my personal comfort or how many hours I spent in airports or hotels. As far as he was concerned, I was living the good life, and I had a lot of damn nerve complaining about it. It was the old joke we shared with the sales reps and my fellow tech reps: The glamour of travel. The accounting mentality now had a vise grip on Faraday and Crosse.

As I sat waiting for the next installment of my flight delay, I was doing some serious thinking. Now this probably wasn't the best time for it, since I was already in a lousy mood, but I got to thinking just what my life was like at this particular moment. I didn't like the answer I was getting. Sylvia had been sniping at me fairly regularly lately. She seemed unhappy about everything, but I couldn't get her to open up and tell me what was bothering her. We seemed to be talking to each other less and less with each passing day.

When I tried to think back to when it all started, the only point I could find was after she started her new career. When Tommy turned sixteen, she took a job in an insurance company office, and within a year she had earned a promotion, and then two years later, another. She was now the manager of claims for a large branch of a national company, and her salary reflected it. When we filed our income tax returns earlier this year, I was surprised to see that her income was nearly as much as mine. That brought about another point of friction.

When I saw what she was earning, I asked her where the money was going. It certainly wasn't going into our savings account. True, she had bought a fancy new car, complete with payments, but aside from groceries and her clothes, all the rest of the household expenses were born by me. That included the first two years of Tommy's college tuition. I was probably a little irritated when I asked her where the money was, but I wasn't prepared for the reaction I got in return.

"It's my money, and I'll do what I like with it." She was speaking in a tone that would indicate she thought the matter was closed. It wasn't.

"Since you live in this house and you are married to me, I expect a civil answer to a reasonable question. Where is the money going?"

"If you must know, it's going into a non-taxable savings account. I'm planning for our retirement, even if you aren't."

"I'm saving whatever we can, but it doesn't help when you don't contribute."

"I told you, I am contributing. It's just not to your fund. Now quit pestering me about it."

That ended the conversation, but it left me with an uneasy feeling about what she was doing with her income. In typical fashion, though, I pushed it down into my memory recesses and let it go. Now it was back up, front and center. As I thought about it, Sylvia and I hadn't been getting along for at least as long as the three years since travel had been intensified. I'd been using the old "rope-a-dope" technique, trying not to absorb any heavy blows, letting her shots bounce off me. Why?

Why had I decided to tolerate her nearly abusive behavior? Not hard to answer that. It was the easy way out. Just like sticking with my lousy job for all these years. It was easier to go with the flow than make waves. I am forty-three years old, the same age as Sylvia. Half my life is past me, but I'm still in what most people would think of as their prime. I have twenty-four years of experience behind me and surely someone would value that. Hell, my customers regularly told me that if I ever wanted a job to come see them.

So, what was keeping me from changing everything? Inertia? Yeah, probably. Better the devil you know than the one you don't. Fear? That too. Where would I go? What would I do? So instead, I just learned to live with it. I felt like I was walking close to the edge of a cliff. Another few steps and I would be over ... falling into what? All I had to do was stop, turn around, and walk the other way. So easy to say, so difficult to do.

It was almost seven o'clock when they announced our aircraft would be at the gate in five minutes, and after a quick crew change, we would be boarding. I walked over to the growing lineup of people anxious to be on their way. I noticed quite a few had disappeared since our original flight time. Had they found other ways to get home, or had they just given up? And why did that sound like the same question I had been asking myself over the last several hours?

It was almost seven-thirty when we finally pushed back from the gate and taxied to the runway. It was a three hour and fifteen minute flight, plus a two hour time change. If I was lucky, I would be home sometime after one o'clock. Wonderful! In fact it was almost one-thirty when I hauled my suitcase and briefcase-cum-tool-kit through my front door. I was too tired to drag them upstairs and left them by the hall closet. I would get them in the morning when I did my laundry.

I was as quiet as I could be when climbed the stairs to our bedroom. I need not have bothered. When I entered, the ensuite light was providing enough illumination that I could see the bed was still made. Where was Sylvia? What the hell was she doing out at one-thirty on a Friday night? I sat on the edge of the bed, then decided to strip and have a shower. I hoped I would feel better after that. By the time I finally crawled into bed, the clock radio told me it was almost two a.m. I didn't have the energy to dwell on my wife's absence. I was asleep in seconds.

When I awoke on Saturday morning, a November sun was shining for a change, and I looked at the clock. Almost nine-thirty. I wondered what time Sylvia got home? She was sound asleep beside me, and didn't look like she was going to wake up any time soon. I got up, got dressed, and headed for the kitchen. I made the coffee and sat down to look at my list of chores. Nothing! That was a nice surprise. No snow to shovel, no leaky taps to fix, just the laundry. I finished the first cup and walked out to the front to get my suitcase.

I had just finished loading the wash into the dryer when Sylvia finally made an appearance. 

"Good morning," I offered in a calm voice.

"G'mornin'," she rasped, squinting at me. "What time did you get home?"

"One thirty. I was surprised to see you weren't here. You weren't home at two when I finally got to bed. Where were you?"

"Out with the girls. You know I always go out with them on Fridays."

"Until sometime after two a.m?"

She shrugged. She wasn't looking at me, but down into her coffee cup as far as I could tell. 

"Just what the hell could you and your "girls" be doing at that time of night?"

"Talking ... just ... talking. Why, don't you trust me?" she said suddenly, looking up at me.

"Trust you? I don't know. Give me a reasonable answer to why you would be out all hours of the night and maybe I could answer that."

"You don't, do you. You don't trust me. Well I'm not going to answer any questions in this inquisition. If you don't like it, you can go to hell!" she spat.

I stood there for a moment, almost teetering in my anger and frustration. And then it was over. I knew I was done and it was over. She had pushed me to the brink, and I had decided to turn and push back.

I walked to the laundry room and opened my suitcase. As soon as the dryer shut off, I began taking my clothes out and folded them the best I could before putting them in the suitcase. When I was done, I took the bag upstairs to the bedroom and began to systematically remove my clothes, shoes, bathroom kit, and anything I could think of that I would need. It took two suitcases to carry everything I wanted to take with me.

Sylvia had remained in the kitchen, drinking coffee and ignoring me. Fine, I could live with that. When I came downstairs with the first case and placed it at the front door, she suddenly came alive.

"What are doing? Where are you going with that?"

I didn't answer her, heading instead back upstairs to get the second suitcase. That brought about another more alarmed question from my wife.

"What are you doing, Stan? What have you got in those suitcases?"

I turned to her, looked at her as calmly as I could manage and said, "I'm leaving you. I'm taking my things and leaving here. I've had enough, and I won't be back."

"Don't be so stupid!" she snapped. "Just because I stayed out a little late last night is no good reason to leave. This is just a childish stunt on your part."

"This isn't just about last night, Sylvia. This is about your disrespect and antagonism toward me. This is about your selfishness and your constant carping and complaining. This is about a loss of love ... by both of us." I turned my back and walked to the front door.

I stepped out onto the front porch, closing the storm door behind me, making two trips carrying the three cases to my car. My car, the one that didn't rate a space in the garage. The seven-year-old sedan that I kept in perfect condition to make it last as long as possible. The garage was reserved for Sylvia's new car, and a collection of old furniture she refused to allow me to sell or give away.

I didn't bother to look back and see if she was watching me. She had said nothing since my last outburst, but I was sure she was watching, wondering just what the hell this was all about. I drove away without a backward glance. I had a strange feeling inside me; almost one of excitement. I had done something I never dreamed I would do, and I had no sense of regret, nor any second thoughts. This morning was the tipping point that I had imagined last night.

It wasn't difficult to find a modest motel with weekly rates. I prepaid a week on my credit card, realizing I would have to start looking right away for an apartment. The motel room had two useful features. It had a kitchenette with a sink, small refrigerator, microwave, and coffee maker. It also had free wireless Internet connection. 

I hadn't had any breakfast and it was fast approaching noon, so I walked up the street a couple of blocks to a restaurant and fed myself. I was calmer and less worried about myself than I expected to be. This afternoon, I would sit down and figure out a budget, make some financial arrangements on-line, and generally ready myself for an eventful week beginning on Monday. 

Now that I had begun to push back, I had one more big step to take. I was going to resign from Faraday and Crosse, and I was going to do it first thing Monday morning. I would put my faith in myself for once in my adult life. I was determined now that I was going to recreate myself in an image I would be happy with. Today was only a first step.

I logged on to our banking site and shifted two thirds of our savings into my personal business account. It was usually reserved for travel and prepaid expenses, but from this day forward, it would be my only account. I looked at the joint checking account, then withdrew two thirds of that as well. Let Sylvia use her own money from now on. There would be enough in there to cover the already written checks, but not much more. On Monday, I would go to the bank and check the safe deposit box. Life insurance policies and a few stock certificates were mine, and I wanted to remove them from Sylvia's reach.

It took me over an hour to write a letter of resignation. Every time I tried to tell them in polite language what a bunch of insensitive assholes they were, I had to stop and start again. In the end, I did the usual thing and simply wrote that I was resigning with two weeks notice. No reason was given. When they asked, I wondered what I would say. The way I felt at that moment, I'd probably tell them exactly how if felt. Burn, baby, burn!

The one thing I hadn't given any thought to was our son, Tommy. I felt guilty about overlooking him. I owed him an explanation. I couldn't imagine that he was oblivious to the tension between his mother and me, but I shouldn't take it for granted. I didn't know which side he would fall on, but we were pretty close, and I suspected he would side with me. After all, he'd been an equal recipient of his mother's miserable nature too. I remembered he now had a cell phone, and I looked up the number in my address book and called him.

"Hi Tommy, it's Dad."

"Hi Dad, where are you?" He seemed pleased to hear from me.

"I'm at the Riverbend Inn, on Stateline, room 241. I just wanted you to know I've left your mother. I'm sorry to have to tell you like this, but I couldn't take it any more."

"I know, Dad, I heard some of your argument this morning. I can't blame you. I don't know what's wrong with her, but she's not very nice to be around any more."

"Yeah. Well, maybe it's about all the time I'm on the road. I don't know. When I asked her about it, she wouldn't tell me."

"Dad ... can I come and see you. At the motel, I mean."

"Sure. Anytime. I guess we should talk about what comes next. Just don't tell your mother where I am, please."

"Okay. I'll be there in a few minutes. Thanks, Dad."

I hung up. Tommy didn't sound surprised or angry with me. It sounded like he almost expected what I'd done. He arrived a half hour later, and I let him into the room.

"Would you like a beer?" I asked. I'd stocked up at the convenience store next door.

I extracted two bottles from the mini fridge and dropped a bag of pretzels on the coffee table near the window. We were sitting in what passed for easy chairs, and I waited for Tommy to begin.

"This must feel strange, Dad. I mean, leaving home with all your stuff. Like I said, I can't blame you. I can't take much more either."

I shook my head. "I didn't think it would ever come to this, but this morning was the straw the broke the camel's back."

"I don't know how to say this, Dad, but I think Mom might be fooling around with some guy. When you're away, she goes out at night sometimes, and doesn't come home until after I've gone to bed."

"What makes you think she's fooling around, as you put it?"

"Just how she acts. When I ask her about where she's going, she never really tells me. It's just 'out with friends' or to see a movie. But when she goes out, she's wearing makeup and sometimes a dress, like she's going somewhere special. And she never does it when you're home, just when you're away."

I nodded. I felt an emptiness in my gut as he told me. I might have suspected something, but didn't want to face it, just like I hadn't wanted to face a lot of things about my life lately.

"I suppose it's partly my fault, Tommy. I've been on the road so much lately. I'm sure she got lonely. I tried to talk to her about it, but she never really wanted to tell me how she felt. I guess that explains her attitude lately. It also means I'm going to do something I never thought I would. I'm going to file for divorce."

My son looked at me solemnly, only briefly nodding his head. "I understand." We sat silently for a while, just sipping our beer. After a while, Tommy spoke.


Tipping Point Ch. 01



"Dad ... can I stay with you for now? I don't want to be at home any more if you're not there. I can help pay for the room ... or maybe we can find an apartment to share. I've got some money."

"Sure. I was going to look for a place to live, so we might as well look together. But what about Jilly?"

Jillian Forester was Tommy's girlfriend, and both Sylvia and I expected them to announce their engagement sometime soon. 

"She'll understand. When I quit college, she was really upset, but I told her it wasn't permanent. I just needed to earn some money and then I could go back."

"I don't understand, Tommy. I ... we were looking after your tuition. You know I was upset when you dropped out. Your grades were fine. I didn't understand it then and I don't understand it now. Talk to me, please."

"I'm sorry, Dad. I should have told you what my plan was. It's just that things were so ... upsetting at home. I didn't think you needed another problem. I had a plan, and I didn't want you to have to worry about me, what with Mom being like she was."

"Tell me about your plan, then. Help me understand."

"After two years, I realized I wasn't getting the education I wanted. Lots of theory and case study, but no practical knowledge. I wanted to learn how to design and develop computer systems. I wanted some hands-on knowledge. I figured my best chance would be at South Ohio Tech. 

"Their tuition isn't bad, but instead of going full time, I decided to enroll in night-time adult classes. I was accepted, but couldn't get in until this coming January. My plan was to work during the day and take classes at night. Instead of two years, it would take me three or more, but I would have the knowledge and hands-on experience I needed. Dad, everyone who graduates from SOT has a guaranteed job. They even recruit some of the drop-outs." 

"Why didn't you tell us this? We would have supported you."

"I didn't think you'd approve. It's not an accredited college. It only grants certificates of merit. I know how much you wanted me to graduate from a proper college. But their reputation is amazing in the business world. Ask anyone about an SOT graduate. They'll tell you."

"You don't need to convince me, Tommy. I've seen some of their graduates on the job and you're right. They come ready to work and more than capable. If that's what you want, then you'll have all the support I can give you."

The smile on my son's face was worth everything at that moment. It was the one bright spot in the past two days. I reached over and hugged him, and received a warm hug in return.

"What are you going to do now, Dad?"

"Well ... I'm going to resign from Faraday and Crosse on Monday. I've had it with them and their miserable attitude. I'll find somewhere to work. I know my skills and I know my customers. I've had offers before, but I never treated them seriously. I didn't think your mother would be very happy to move, or to see me start all over again. Well ... none of that matters any more. I can do what I want ... what I think is best for me."

"Good for you, Dad. I have a feeling you're going to be okay."

"Yeah ... me too," I smiled, hoping he was right. 

Tommy went home with the intention of packing his clothes and belongings and coming back to the motel. He was back by five that afternoon. There had been no confrontation at home, his mother wasn't there. I intended to go back Monday afternoon and collect all the miscellaneous things I hadn't packed this morning. Neither of us wanted another confrontation. I was surprised, however, that I hadn't heard from Sylvia. She knew my cell phone number.

I took Tommy out to dinner, and we decided to do something different. We went across the river to the Kentucky Ranch House. It was a noisy barbeque roadhouse with a live band. I would not normally have chosen it as a place for dinner, but both Tommy and I were keyed up with our new arrangement, and we decided to celebrate. The ribs were great, and the music was country. 

Saturday night at the "Kane-Tuck" was lively. There were a lot of single men and women in the place. The big dance floor was seldom empty and I envied how much fun most of the people were having. I couldn't remember the last time I'd enjoyed myself this much. I felt a bit sorry for Tommy. I'm sure if Jilly were here, they'd be out on the dance floor, stompin' with the best of them. 

Since Tommy was the designated driver that night, I nursed a couple of beers. What surprised me was the number of women who passed by that asked me or Tommy to dance. Tommy accepted a couple of invites, and I guess that gave me some courage too. I had several dances with different women. None of them propositioned me, but that wasn't a surprise. It was just nice to be asked.

We got back to the motel shortly after midnight, and both of us went straight to bed. The room had two queen size beds, so we had plenty of room. I slept like the dead and didn't hear a thing until after nine on Sunday morning. When I stirred and finally rose, I must have wakened Tommy. I made a quick trip to the bathroom, and then came back to give Tommy a chance. 

When we had showered and shaved, we headed out for a late breakfast. Tommy's Focus was left behind, and we took my Pontiac to the nearby Denny's. This was no thrill for me. I'd seen the insides of far too many Denny's in this country, but the food was predictable and the prices reasonable. As usual, I was automatically watching my pennies.

"So, are you really going to divorce Mom and quit your job, Dad?" Tommy seemed to be having a hard time believing I was going to take such radical action.

"Yeah. Besides, if what you say is true, and your mother is cheating on me, well that's reason enough, even without being the bit ... nasty person she's been lately."

Tommy grinned. "It's okay, Dad. A bitch is a bitch, and Mom certainly qualifies."

I shook my head, having a hard time realizing we were having a conversation that I never imagined we would. "Don't think too badly of her, Tommy. I've been away so much in the past three years that I may have contributed to her deciding to stray. She's still your mother, and I don't want you to forget that."

"Yeah, well, that's real noble of you Dad, but the truth is, whether she cheated or not, you couldn't go on being treated the way she was treating you. Did she ever say she wanted you to quit traveling?"

"No ... not really."

"Well ... then I don't think she's justified in whatever caused her to act the way she has."

"How about we change the topic?"

"Okay ... what did you think about all the women that wanted to dance with you last night?"

I laughed. "They must have been desperate. But to tell the truth, it was good for my ego, and I needed that."

"Yeah, well, they thought you looked pretty cool for an old guy," he grinned. "No offense."

"None taken. I haven't been single for so long that I've forgotten what it's like."

"Doesn't look like you're going to have any trouble finding dates, if that was any indication."

"To tell the truth, Son, I'm not sure if I'm ready to look for female companionship right now. I'm still married to your mother, and I've never cheated on her in all the years we've been married. I've been tempted a few times, but I always remembered that promise I made to her in front of the preacher all those years ago. Those are things you don't forget."

"I know, Dad. I wish I believed Mom was living up to that same promise. I hope I'm wrong. Maybe I am. I hope so."

"Me too. Now let's get off this topic. We have some serious choices to make this afternoon. Like, which NFL game to watch, what kind of beer to get, where to go to dinner tonight. You know, all the important stuff." I was trying to lighten the mood from the rather gloomy topic of separation from our home.

"Well, the Bengals are in New York against the Jets. I like Miller Genuine Draft, and maybe we can find an Olive Garden nearby. How's that?"

"I can live with that. It's good to have a plan, I always say."

It was a good afternoon we spent in that motel room. I stepped out to get a dozen MGDs just before the game started. Our Bengals stomped the Jets as they continued their unexpected resurgence. Later, the Olive Garden had a nice clam fettuccini special that went well with a glass of dark red Italian wine. I can't remember a more pleasant Sunday than Tommy and I spent. It helped me keep my mind off the next morning and my confrontation with Wendell Morrison, my soon-to-be ex-boss.

I slept well that night. I didn't give Sylvia a thought, nor did I experience even a moment of guilt. I had turned off my cell phone to circumvent any attempt by her to talk to me. I had a lot to do Monday, including picking up the rest of my things from the house. 

Monday dawned another cold, sunny day in southern Ohio. Tommy was up before me, off to work early so that he could grab breakfast on the way. I would have to remember to go shopping for some essentials today. We couldn't keep eating at restaurants. I showered and shaved, preparing to head to the office and present my resignation. I was strangely calm, considering the seriousness of my decision. I didn't have any doubt that I was going to do this.

I arrived at the office about twenty minutes later than my usual time, attracting the notice of quite a few people. I just didn't do that. I was noted for my predictability and punctuality. I was always a bit early, but today was a notable exception.

I sat down at my desk, oblivious to the looks that I was getting and the comments that were being directed my way. They weren't mean-spirited. I had a good relationship with virtually everyone in the office, and I had surprised them with my tardiness. I pulled the printed letter from my inside jacket pocket and looked at it once more. Only three sentences. Barely thirty words. Not much to say for twenty-four years of service to a company I once considered my one and only job. But nothing had changed from Saturday. I was going to put an end to this. Today!

I used the photocopier to make two additional copies of my letter, then walked down the hall to Wendell Morrison's office and tapped on the door. I got a gruff "come" in response.

I entered and closed the door behind me, another change in behavior. Usually the door was left open.

"Well, what is it, Copely?"

"I'm here to tender my resignation," I said quietly. I pulled the letter from my jacket pocket and handed it to my superior.

Morrison looked up at me as if I had three eyes. Almost absently he took the letter from me and continued to stare at me.

"What did you say? Resignation? What's this about, Copely?"

"Read the letter. It's self-explanatory," I replied in a calm, quiet voice.

He looked down at the folded paper and opened it. It didn't take him long to read it.

"Why are you resigning? Do you have a better job? You think this is a way to get us to pay you more, Copely?"

"Nope. I don't have a better job. I don't have any job at all. I'm just fed up with the way I'm being treated here and I've decided to quit. It's as simple as that."

"Are you crazy? In this economy? You can't afford to quit. You need this job. Who's going to pay the mortgage on your house? How are you going to put food on the table? You better think this over, Copely, before I accept it. You need us more than we need you."

"I don't need you at all, Mr. Morrison. I'm through with Faraday and Crosse. I've given you twenty-four years of loyal service, and in return, lately I've been subjected to more abuse and humiliation than I care to think about. You treat me and my colleagues like dirt. Well, enough is enough. It's up to you to decide if you want me gone today, or if you want me to finish out the next two weeks of my schedule. It's your call."

Morrison was quite red-faced at this point. I could see he didn't like my attitude at all, and was about to strike back.

"You can't talk to me like that. That's insubordination. I'll have you fired for it."

"Too late. I've already quit. So make your mind up. Do I work out my two weeks notice, or would you prefer I leave now?"

"Damn you, Copely. You know perfectly well we don't have anyone to cover your assignments. You'll work out those two weeks, that's for certain."

"Nothing is for certain any more, Mr. Morrison. And one more thing. If I find you trying to short me or cheat me in any way, I will advise my lawyer to prosecute F & C and you individually for constructive dismissal. You should look it up under Ohio labor law."

My last comment was an empty threat. I'd heard something about it on a radio talk show, and decided that my mythical lawyer could file a mythical law suit against my idiot boss. Just the same, based on how he was reacting to my comment, he seemed taken aback by my warning. Knowing how lazy he was, I doubted he would bother to look up the statutes for confirmation.

I turned and left his office without another word, closing the door quietly behind me. I sat at my desk, looked at the assignment sheet, and phoned my customers to arrange my visits in the second week. When that was done, I logged onto my computer and booked my travel, hotel, and car reservations. It was another chance to thumb my nose at the hidebound establishment that had become Faraday and Crosse.

When I handed in my expense report at the accounting office, I told them that I was resigning, but would have further expenses during the next two weeks. I stopped off at Human Resources and advised them of my resignation, giving them a copy of the letter I had handed Wendell Morrison. I also advised them that I was no longer living at my previous address and would ask that all communications be via my cell phone. I asked them to switch the bank account for the deposit of my paycheck to the account I used for my expenses, and would like that to be handled immediately.

Dana Miles, my contact in H.R., was distraught. She'd seen too many of us long-timers leave in the last few years, and her equally long service made her feel more and more alone. On the other hand, she wasn't oblivious to what was going on in the company, or with my job. She was sympathetic, but sad to see me go. 

I left the office at noon and didn't return. I no longer felt any obligation to fall into my normal regimen. I was certain by now word of my quitting had circulated throughout the staff. I picked up a sandwich and a bottle of pop at the local deli and headed for my home ... my former home. I was reasonably certain that Sylvia would be at work, but just to be sure, I swung by her office and checked the parking lot. As expected, her car was there. I drove directly to the house, parking my car inside the garage and out of sight.

I prowled through the house, uncertain what I wanted from what was left. I had my clothes, toiletries, and laptop. Maybe my snow boots, gloves and hats? I suddenly realized I still had all my customer files in the little room I laughingly called an office. It was a tiny space below the stairs that housed a small desk, a two drawer file cabinet, one swivel chair and a fluorescent lamp fixture. More often than not, I had to leave the door open just to make sure there was enough oxygen in the room.

I made a quick trip to the local stationery store and purchased a pack of five legal size file boxes. I returned to the house and carefully transferred my files from the cabinet to the boxes. There were over twenty years of customer call records, repair notes, and expense reports in those files. I may just want them in future. When I finished, I put the cartons in my trunk and returned to the house. 

To be honest, I was feeling pretty down when I looked around the home that Sylvia and I had shared for so many years. It all seemed such a waste. The marriage, now destined for the divorce court, wasn't all bad. Hell, a lot of it was pretty good. What caused it to fall apart? Was I to blame with all the travel? Was Sylvia? Both of us? I didn't know. The last room was our bedroom and I noticed a photo album in the closet. I hadn't looked at it in a long time. Perhaps there would be something there I wanted.

I thumbed through the pages, pulling out some pictures of Tommy and our family from happier years. It was all I wanted until I came to some loose photos. They were of Sylvia, taken by a professional photographer on the announcement of her most recent promotion. These were proofs that she had kept. I looked at them and selected a couple that I thought were quite good. I was confident that she would never miss them. Surely she wouldn't begrudge me a couple of souvenirs of our marriage. I made one last trip through to make sure I hadn't left anything I truly wanted. I left my house key, garage door opener, and wedding ring on the kitchen table.

I didn't expect to feel as down as I did driving back to the motel. Second thoughts? I didn't think so. The memories of her criticisms and derision were still fresh. Yet, I didn't have that strange feeling of euphoria I had on Saturday. I hadn't won anything. I had just chosen not to lose. 

I picked up a local paper at the newsstand, and began to look for an apartment for Tommy and me. I wouldn't mind having my son as a roommate, but I wondered how it would affect his relationship with Jilly. For that matter, what if I found someone ... a woman ... someone I might become involved with? I put the thought out of my mind. I was in no position to enter a relationship with any woman until my marriage to Sylvia was resolved. That would be some months down the road. 

*

My thanks to ErikThread and DaveT for their expert assistance in editing and technical advice. Any errors are mine alone.



Tipping Point Ch. 02



Chapter 2: What next?

A trip to the bank Monday afternoon allowed me to retrieve some things from our safe deposit box, including life insurance policies (all mine), a few certificates of deposit, again in my name, and some of my late father's military medals. I left everything else behind. I had no use for her jewelry, or her family papers. I did notice a fairly new insurance policy made out in her name. I looked inside to see who the beneficiary was, and saw that it was Tommy. Somehow, that didn't surprise me. 

What did surprise me was that Sylvia hadn't attempted to contact me at all up to that afternoon. Perhaps she was expecting me to return in the near future. That wasn't going to happen. It left me with one more task. I needed a lawyer who could handle the divorce, and any problems I ran into with Faraday and Crosse. I couldn't afford one of the big time firms, so I looked for a private practice that might be a bit more reasonably priced if problems arose. I was hoping that Sylvia wouldn't contest the divorce.

Looking through the Yellow Pages, I finally decided on a small firm that was located in our suburban area. I punched in the number on my cell phone and waited for a response. An older sounding woman answered the phone.

"Carmen Croft, Attorney at Law," she said crisply.

"Uhm ... my name is Stan Copely, and I need to talk to a lawyer about a divorce, and some issues about Ohio labor law. Can Mr. Croft help me?"

There was a slight hint of laughter in her voice as she answered, "First of all, it's Ms. Croft, and yes, she can help you with both family and labor law. Would you like to make an appointment?"

"Yes, ma'am, I would. Thank you."

"Well, I see Ms. Croft has some time available tomorrow afternoon, just after four pm. Will that be satisfactory?"

"Yes, ma'am, that will be fine." I was pleased that I would be able to see her that quickly.

"Very well then, Mr. Copely, she'll see you at four o'clock tomorrow."

"Thank you." I snapped the phone closed, pleased that I had accomplished finding a lawyer so quickly, and also one who could assist me with both the divorce and any problems that might crop up with F & C. I sat back in the motel chair, wondering what else I had to do that I hadn't thought of. Perhaps Ms. Croft could give me some advice regarding that tomorrow.

The TV was on, but I wasn't really paying much attention to it and I began to fall asleep. I suppose the tension and turmoil of the past two days was catching up to me, but whatever the reason, I was having a hard time staying awake. I was expecting Tommy to arrive from work in a few minutes, and we could decide what to do about supper. I hadn't managed to do any shopping other than for some breakfast fixings and sandwich materials for my son's lunch. 

The chime of my cell phone caught me by surprise and it took me a few seconds to extract it from my pocket.

"Hello?"

"Where the hell are you, Stan?" came Sylvia's demanding bark. 

I almost flipped the phone closed at that, but held it out in front of me for a moment.

"Stan? Stan? Answer me!" she shouted from the little device. 

"What do you want?" I wasn't in a particularly conciliatory mood, but I kept myself under control, not raising my voice.

"I want to know where you are, and why you aren't at home."

"I thought I covered that ground Saturday morning, Sylvia. It thought I made it clear I was leaving and not coming back." I was working hard to keep my voice calm and even.

"Are you still going on about that? You can't be serious. You're just going to walk out on me after all these years?" She was still demonstrating a belligerent attitude.

"I already have. Haven't you noticed?" I was starting to get a little snarky myself.

"You owe me the courtesy of at least talking about it," she demanded again.

"There's nothing to discuss. I've made up my mind, and nothing that's happened has caused me to want to change it. If you took the trouble to listen to yourself, you'd understand why I am doing what I am doing. Courtesy hasn't been your strong suit lately."

There was a pause on the other end of the line. 

"What are you going to do now?" she asked in a calmer, quieter voice. 

"I'll be talking to a lawyer tomorrow about seeking a divorce. I've already resigned from F & C, so in two weeks, I'll be officially unemployed. Oh ... and just so you don't worry ... Tommy is staying with me. He's fine, in case you're wondering." I thought that would slow her down considerably, and I was right.

"A divorce? You're serious?"

"Yes, I'm serious."

There was another pause, and this time the unmistakable sound of a sob. I had finally gotten through to her.

"Is there anything I can do to make you change your mind?" she asked quietly.

"I can't think of anything, to be honest. This isn't something I just dreamed up on Saturday morning. This has been coming for some time. In fact, it's been coming for years. I just got to the point where I wasn't going to go on with our marriage the way it was, and you couldn't see what you had become. I took it for as long as I could."

"What am I supposed to do? I don't want to be alone," she whined softly.

"Sylvia, you've been alone in our house for quite a while. You've had very little to do with me or Tommy, and lately, what communications we have had weren't very pleasant. I don't know why, but you're a pretty unhappy woman, and when I tried to talk to you about it, you just shut me out. After a while, I quit trying."

I could hear her crying now, and I was starting to feel a bit guilty ... and sad. Was it all her fault? I'd been over this ground in my head many times in the past. I knew I had contributed to the problem with my constant travel, but her unwillingness to communicate and at least try to help us get through a bad period had been the most frustrating part. She had created a wall around herself, and I couldn't break it down.

"Maybe I can change," she moaned.

"You're still young, Sylvia. You and I have half our lives ahead of us. I've come to the conclusion that I can start again. I need to start again. I can't live with the unhappiness I've been tolerating these past years."

"So ... there's no hope for us?" 

"I don't see any," I admitted. "Best we just go on and ...." I didn't finish the comment.

"Will I see you and Tommy again?"

"Probably, somewhere along the way. I've told Tommy not to take sides. I know you love him, and I know he loves you, but ... he needs some space too. He'll be okay. He plans to go back to school in the new year. I'm sure he'll tell you about it. I'll help him with his tuition."

"I can't believe this is happening. I can't believe you're going to do this to me," she wailed.

I almost lost my temper as she distilled our problems down to herself, with no thought about anything else. I doubted she would ever understand how I felt. There wasn't much point in trying to convince her.

"Goodbye, Sylvia. I'll let you know when the paperwork is ready. I'm sorry it's come to this."

I pushed the END button on my phone, the sound of her sobs in my ear. I don't think she expected this kind of a conversation when she called. 

Tommy arrived a few minutes later, looking tired but smiling. Being on his feet all day couldn't be easy, but he enjoyed problem solving with computers. Many of the store's customers were neophytes like me, users without much comprehension of how all the systems worked. When things go wrong, we need someone to help us figure it out ... or just fix it ... whatever. Tommy liked that part of the job.

My son grabbed a quick shower and we headed for the supermarket for some take-out from the deli counter. A while later we were back at the motel, enjoying our impromptu meal. As we finished our food, I briefed Tommy on the day's activities, including my contacting a divorce lawyer and my conversation with his mother. 

"I think she's finally figured out this is real and not just some temper tantrum on my part. I've told her you're with me, and you're okay. Have you talked to Jilly yet?"

"Yeah, I called her right away on Saturday when you left, and I told her I would try and get away too. She knows I'm here, so don't be surprised if she calls."

"No problem. She's a nice girl. You're lucky to have her."

"Dad ... I told Jilly about Mom. I mean, about my thinking she might be seeing some other guy. She suggested we follow her and find out what we can. You might want to know that. You know ... for the divorce."

"I'm not much at playing private detective. I wouldn't know how to go about it. Anyway, how do you know when she's going to go out?"

"It was almost always on Tuesday and Thursday when you were away. She'd leave about seven or eight, and come home sometime near midnight. I'm not sure about that, because most of the time I was asleep and I didn't hear her come in. Do you want to come with us?"

"No ... no, I don't think so. You go ahead if you want to, but don't do anything foolish. I don't want you or Jilly getting into trouble or getting hurt. It's not going to change what I'm going to do anyway."

"Okay ... well, tomorrow, we thought we'd sit outside the house in her dad's car, and if she comes out, we'd follow her."

"And if she doesn't?"

"Well ... we'll find something to keep us occupied," he grinned.

I went into the office the next morning to see if there were any additional assignments. There were two, both in different parts of the territory. I contacted the customers to determine how urgent the problems were, then booked my flights to handle them in order of importance. My travel reservations were again made on-line by myself, putting an end to my adversarial relationship with Mrs. Fracas. I would be on the road Wednesday morning and home at a sensible hour on Friday afternoon. I no longer felt any obligation to play by the F & C rules. My only responsibility was to do my job, and do it well.

I could probably handle one, or maybe even two more jobs the following week. I already had two simple assignments, so it might be possible to have an efficient week to finish my career with my ex-employer. I wondered how much we might have saved the company if we had been allowed to work our own schedule instead of the preconceived one that management had determined for us. Over these past three years I thought it would probably have been in the thousands.

Since I was going to be on the road for the balance of the week beginning Wednesday, I needed to get my apartment search under way. I had circled a number of possibilities in the paper and began a phone campaign to line up some viewings for the weekend. I had already renewed our rental on the motel room for another week. I was hoping we didn't have to stay here much longer. I would include Tommy, and even Jilly in our search if she was interested.

When I boarded the plane on Wednesday morning, I had a lot to think about. My meeting with Carmen Croft the previous afternoon had been very helpful, and gave me a sense that things might be going my way for a change. We left the divorce issues 'till last because she was fascinated by the treatment I had received at Faraday and Crosse. 

When I first stepped into her office, I saw an attractive young woman, perhaps in her early twenties. I assumed it was a secretary, so I introduced myself.

"Good afternoon, I'm Stan Copely and I have an appointment with Ms. Croft."

"Hi, Mr. Copely. I'll be right with you. She finished some filing and walked toward me, extending her hand. "I'm Carmen, nice to meet you."

"Oh ... you caught me by surprise. I didn't expect someone so young," I stumbled.

She laughed, "That's all right, I get that all the time. I really am a lawyer, and I really do know what I'm doing."

"When I called earlier, I was sure I talked to an older woman."

"That would have been my mother. She used to work as a paralegal, and now she helps me around the office. She's gone home to make supper for my grandmother and me."

"All in the family, huh?"

"Yeah. It's great. I'm just in my third year of private practice, so I can use all the free help I can get." She had an upbeat and confident manner about her, and I felt more at ease than I had a couple of minutes earlier.

Anyway, back to Carmen's reaction to my rules at work. To begin with, they had never issued an employee contract, or any other written form of employment regulations. Old man Faraday never needed them. His word was good. But today, with the current management, they were abusing the rights of some of their employees, and I was one of the abused. Carmen was almost rubbing her hands in glee when I gave her a verbal review of their "rules" for service technicians. She said she almost lost track of the number of violations of state labor law as she rapidly wrote on her legal pad. 

When we got around to the subject of my divorce, she listened to my story without comment. I didn't get any sense that she was taking sides, but she didn't really encourage me either. At one point, she asked a very specific question.

"Mr. Copely, will your life be better with or without your wife by your side?"

I almost answered on impulse that it would be better, but the look in her eyes told me to think more carefully about that question. 

"If I could turn back the clock somehow ... back to when we were in love and when I was happy in my job, I'd say it would be better with her. But in the last few years, it's all changed. Today ... I'd have to say it would be better without."

"Do you think your job had an effect on your relationship with your wife?"

I should have guessed this question was coming. After all, I'd been asking myself the same thing over and over again.

"Yes. It couldn't help but put pressure on the marriage when I was away so much. But ... and it's a big but ... I tried several times to get Sylvia to talk to me about it, trying and get her feelings out in the open. I never succeeded. So ... I guess the truth is that the job hurt the marriage, but my wife didn't do anything to prevent it. She never once hinted I should quit and find something else to do."

Carmen sat quietly looking at me, thinking about what I had said, I suppose.

"Mr. Copely, I'm going to suggest we leave the matter of divorce on hold for a bit. If you don't mind, I'd like to concentrate on your job and your employer's responsibilities. Would that be okay?"

"Yeah, I suppose. I'm not in a rush to get divorced. I just want to put an end to the misery. I don't see how we could reconcile, but I don't feel like we need to charge ahead full speed."

"Good. I think that's a smart decision. In the meantime, we can go to work on Faraday and Crosse. So, here's my suggestion."

She laid out her strategy and I smiled when I heard it. She was one clever young lady. I think, just by dumb luck, I had found a very good lawyer to look after my interests. One of the things she asked me to do was to list all the "rules" I could think of, as well as just how I spent my time on the road, hour by hour. I would list these things over the next few days, and then I would meet with her again and she would begin to carry out our strategy. 

I wanted to get this deal in motion, so I began almost immediately to write down all the restrictions and directives that I could remember, past and present. It took an hour or so, but I was fairly confident I hadn't forgotten anything major. As far as the work routine when I traveled, I began with my trip to the airport on Sunday, and documented just how I spent my days with each customer. I made a note that my obligation was to complete my work, regardless of how many hours it took, but I was still expected to stick to my pre-arranged schedule no matter what. That led to long hours in some situations where the problems were complex or difficult, as well as some situations where I would be finished several hours ahead of expectations, but again, locked into the schedule.

Once I got started on my assignment, I found myself completely immersed in how I conducted myself in the territory, working on the company's behalf. I didn't gloss it up or sugar-coat it, I just put down the facts as I knew them. I got a minor brain wave and included the names of all my customer contacts as reference for checking the authenticity of my records. I had advised Carmen that I was a bit of a pack-rat, and had all my call and expense reports from years before, and could confirm my activities that way. She gave me a two-hundred watt smile when she heard that.

I was loading all this information onto my laptop. And it was my laptop. The company declined to provide us with one, even though we needed them to do our jobs properly. My laptop files had plenty of information on them as well. I was pretty confident that Carmen would have enough to confront F & C when the time came. But not just yet.

My zone was listed as Mid-West, and that encompassed everything between the Mississippi River west to the Rockies and from Canada to Mexico; a hell of a lot of territory. The main centers of activity were around St. Louis, Denver, Kansas City, Omaha, and Dallas. I had the largest territory with the most travel. As the number of service technicians slowly declined, I was picking up more and more of the slack where our coverage was weak. So, throw in Minneapolis and Green Bay, but Milwaukee and Chicago were not included. In the wisdom of our brilliant leader, they belonged in a different territory. It was just one more example of the lame-brained thinking that was running the company.

My three day trip this week began in Jefferson City, Missouri, then to Kansas City. Sometimes, my bookings weren't always going to work out, but by talking to my customers, they had come to know just how tricky it was for me to get to all my calls in an efficient manner. They were pretty understanding and gave me a lot of flexibility. It was one of the benefits of having made good friends and providing reliable service over a long period of time. If an emergency arose, well, we'd figure out how to cope with that and circumvent the tight controls that F & C put on our travel. I thought to myself that without the interference, we could have provided better service at a lower cost if I had been allowed to use my experience to take advantage of my customer relationships.

I got all my work done, and after telling my customers that I was leaving F & C, even had time to socialize with a few of my old friends at the two firms. They all wished me well and wondered aloud how they would get by with a new man. I promised to let them know where I ended up, and they all had my card with my personal cell phone number on it. I encouraged them to phone if there was a way I could help them. One more week, and my F & C days would be done. 

I was back at our motel just before six on Friday and found both Tommy and Jilly waiting for me. I was invited to join them at Jilly's for a home-cooked meal. I had met Maureen and Dick Forester on a couple of occasions. They approved of Tommy as their daughter's boyfriend, and that made it easier on both children and parents. I took a quick shower and changed clothes before joining them for the short drive to the Forester home.

"So ... what did your private detective work turn up?" I asked as we set out.

Jilly laughed out loud. "Tell him, Tommy."

"Uhm ... well ... nothing on Tuesday. Mom didn't go out as far as we could tell. The lights were on in the living room and when we left at nine-thirty, she was still home."

"Come on, Tommy. Tell him the rest," Jilly prodded.

"We had a problem come up. It was cold out, so the windows kept steaming up. We couldn't see much, so we had to keep wiping them," he admitted bashfully.

I started to laugh and Jilly joined me. "Some private detectives you two turned out to be," I brayed. "What about Thursday."




Tipping Point Ch. 02



"I had homework, so we decided not to bother. We'll try again next week," Jilly offered.

"Yeah ... with a roll of paper towels," Tommy stated emphatically.

"Well, just don't do anything silly. I forgot to mention that my lawyer has asked me to put the divorce on hold until we've had some time to think about it. She's moving ahead with going after F & C in the meantime. That will start when I'm finished next week."

"You think maybe you and Mom will get back together again?" Tommy asked.

"I don't think so, son, but you never know. I'll just play if by ear for now. There's no rush."

We arrived at the Forester house and I followed my son and Jilly up the front steps and into her home. Maureen was the first to greet me and gave me a brief hug of welcome. Dick arrived seconds later and we shook hands heartily. Although we didn't see each other very often, I liked both of them and the feeling seemed to be mutual.

"Good to see you again, Stan. I'm glad you could make it. I hope you like meatloaf ... it's a traditional winter meal in this house," Maureen said.

"I love meatloaf. Even more, I really appreciate a home-cooked meal. I've seen too many restaurants in the past months. Thank you for inviting me."

The meal was delicious and there was nothing left on the plate when I was done. I declined a second helping, although I was tempted. There was still a lemon meringue pie to come.

The kids adjourned to the family room to watch some TV, leaving the parents on their own. As we relaxed over coffee in the living room, Maureen was the first to broach the subject.

"I'm very sorry to hear about you and Sylvia, Stan. That must be very hard on you right now."

"Actually, it hasn't really hit me yet. I've told Tommy that I'm holding off on filing the divorce papers on the advice of my lawyer. She thinks I should let things cool down for a bit. In the meantime, I'm pretty absorbed in wrapping up my work at Faraday and Crosse. Another week and I'll be done."

"That's a huge life change, Stan," Dick chimed in. "Have you decided what you are going to do yet?"

"Not really. I've been giving some thought to going out on my own. I know a number of guys like me who hire themselves out to do my kind of service work. Every one of them says they wish they'd done it sooner. If I can make a go of it, that would be the most attractive option. In the meantime, I've got enough to see me through, so I'm not going to worry about it."

"Good for you, Stan." Dick was genuinely supportive, and Maureen was nodding her agreement.

When Tommy and I left to go back to the motel, it was almost eleven o'clock. I was getting sleepy, but the coffee had probably kept me going longer than I might normally have. That and the pleasant conversation I enjoyed with the Foresters.

"Tomorrow, I want to look at some apartments, Tommy. Are you up for that?"

"Yeah ... sure. Can I invite Jilly? She's interested, too."

"Sure, as long as she realizes we're looking for a bachelor pad and not a homemaker's nest," I laughed.

It struck me that I'd been laughing quite a bit more lately. Perhaps it was the tension of all the changes in my life, but I felt it was more the relief and lack of pressure I was feeling. There was no doubt I was grateful for Tommy's presence. He was someone to talk to and share my thoughts with. He understood what I was going through. Hell, he was going through it too.

By ten Saturday morning, we were on the road in my car. I had brought along my digital camera to take pictures and help remind me of the various places. Tommy was navigator, and Jilly provided commentary on what the neighborhoods looked like. Not all of the comments were complimentary.

"You're not seriously thinking of a place here, are you?" she asked as we pulled up to the curb in front of an eight unit, two storey building.

"Well, we've got to start somewhere, and we need a basis of comparison. Tell you what, Jilly, I brought a pad and clipboard with me. You can be the official note-taker as we go through these places. We'll note the price, and deficiencies, and general feeling about the place. Is that okay with you?"

"Sure," she said brightly. 

By four-thirty that afternoon we had seen six rentals in three different parts of the city suburbs. Inner city prices were too rich for my blood, and those that weren't were not in any neighborhood I'd want to live near. We had narrowed down the six to two possibles, but nothing jumped out at us as the one to choose. We still had tomorrow, so I wasn't discouraged.

That night, I thanked Jilly for her help by taking her and Tommy to dinner at a nice restaurant in the west side. I'd been there once before with Sylvia, but it was years ago. When I looked it up in the guide, it was still rated very highly, and we were rewarded with a very fine meal. Back-to-back pleasant evenings had been a rarity for me, but this was one of the better ones.

Jilly is a very attractive blonde-haired girl, about five foot six, with blue eyes and a nice figure. She wasn't a beauty queen or a runway model, she just looked nice, and clean, and very "girl-next-door." My son was an inch taller than me at five-eleven, with a stockier build. He didn't look like a computer nerd with his sandy blond hair, gray-blue eyes, and regular features. He had inherited the best features from both Sylvia and me. He always looked sharp and dressed well. He was a son to be proud of.

Me? I'm average height, average build, thinning brown hair, regular features, and like Tommy, a compulsive neatnik. It was part of my lifestyle. It was how I lived and worked. 

Sylvia was almost my height, with a good-looking figure that drew me to her right away. I don't think she weighed five pounds more today than when I first dated her as a senior in high school. She wasn't beautiful, but she was attractive. She had nice, bright teeth that she showed when she smiled, which was often back then. She also had very good posture, and that added to her attractiveness.

We dated for over a year before we had sex, but it was worth the wait. We discovered we both liked it and wanted to experience all of it, and over the early years, we did. We were married almost a year to the day from our graduation. We were both nineteen, and I had a good job with an established company, Faraday & Crosse. I was being trained as a service technician, and I took to it like a duck to water. Within a year I was qualified for field work, and received a healthy raise. 

We got married and, eighteen months later, Tommy was born. His proper name is Thomas William Copely, but almost from the beginning he was Tommy. He's been a good student since grade school; serious about his studies and always striving for good marks. On the other hand, he had lots of friends, and played the usual sports in school. He wasn't an athlete, but he was athletic, and that attracted the girls, particularly one Jillian Forester. They'd been dating and going steady since their junior year.

For the first two years, both of them attended Cincinnati U., Tommy majoring in computer science, while Jilly majored in marketing. Both of them were doing well, and that's why it was such a shock when Tommy announced he wasn't going back for his third year. He had already taken a job at Bits & Bytes, a well known computer outlet and service center in our area. It wasn't until recently that he revealed his plan to enroll in South Ohio Tech's Cincinnati-based mature student program. He could work and attend school at the same time. 

I thought he and Jilly were going to bust up over his decision, but he must have convinced her that it was the right thing for him. Within a couple of weeks, they were back together, acting as if nothing had happened. It took me a good deal longer to understand his thinking, but then I had other things on my mind.

We set out again on Sunday morning to look at apartments, and just before two o'clock we found what we were looking for. It was a two bedroom unit with a small den and living room, a proper kitchen with eating area, one-and-a-half bathrooms, plus some storage. The parking was open, but covered. It was in a good neighborhood and, although it was a bit more money than I had been planning on, I decided it was the best we were likely to find. Jilly and Tommy agreed, and we signed the lease with occupancy the first of December, only two weeks away.

I was thinking about all that furniture that we had stored in the garage that Sylvia didn't want to let go of, and decided I would talk to her about it. It would almost furnish the apartment, with only a couple of items left to find; a sofa and a TV. All the appliances, including a microwave were supplied. A coffee maker, toaster, and mixer were stored in the cupboards, all clean and in working order.

I wasn't looking forward to talking to Sylvia about the furniture, but I didn't want to spend a lot of money if I could get what I needed for free. I sucked it up and called her Sunday evening.

"So ... if you take the furniture, it means you aren't coming back, doesn't it?" She had agreed, but was obviously upset by the implication.

"I can't tell you what will happen in the future, Sylvia. I don't know myself. I just thought it would make sense to use that furniture rather than have it sit in the garage collecting dust. If things change, it's not like it would be gone forever."

"I haven't seen the divorce papers, Stan. Are you really going to go through with it?"

I sighed. I might be making a mistake, but I decided to tell her the truth. "I've put the divorce on hold. My lawyer talked me into it. I'm going to deal with Faraday and Crosse first. Then I need to find a new job. Then, maybe I can concentrate on the rest of my life."

"Does that mean there's some hope for us?" I could hear the pleading in her voice.

"I don't know, I really don't know. The only thing I can tell you is that I will never go back to where we were. Those days are gone, and I'm not the same guy any more."

"I guess I'll just have to hope then, won't I?"

"Yeah ... I guess."

Tommy arranged to borrow a panel van for the weekend we intended to move. The only thing we had of substance was the furniture. Everything else was just the clothes and things we had at the motel. It would be a quick and simple move.

*

As always, my thanks to ErikThread and DaveT for their editing and technical skills. Any errors are mine alone. 



Tipping Point Ch. 03



Chapter 3: Moving Out and Moving On

My last week on the job was one of mixed emotions. I was busy working, but I was saying goodbye to many of the guys and gals that I had befriended over the years. I had no way of knowing if I would see any of them again, but if I did, I was confident that it would be a happy reunion. If I could take anything from my twenty-three years with F & C it would be my relationships with my customers. I really couldn't think of anyone that I wouldn't want to work with in the future. I felt very good about that. I would even miss the flirting from the women who couldn't resist teasing me. 

When I arrived back at the motel on Friday afternoon I was feeling a bit down in the dumps. If that was my last week, it was a let-down. I don't know what I expected, but it didn't seem very satisfying. When I arrived at our room, Tommy and Jilly were there waiting for me. Once more, we were going to the Foresters for dinner, and that simple thing brightened my mood quite a bit.

Thanksgiving was the following week, and it would be that weekend we would be moving. Not the best timing, but with a little pre-planning, we were able to get the power turned on, the phone and cable TV hooked up, and our change of address cards filed with all the appropriate organizations.

Maureen and Dick insisted on my joining them for Thanksgiving dinner on Thursday. I hadn't been looking forward to spending it on my own. The thought crossed my mind that Sylvia would be by herself. Her parents were living in Arizona, and they seldom saw each other. She was never very close to them, and I often wondered why. 

My father had passed away five years earlier. He had finally succumbed to the after effects of the Vietnam War. My mother lived with my older sister and her family in Des Moines. I had sent them a card and would call them on Thursday. It was something I did on every major holiday and their birthdays. I would see them once in a while if my work took me nearby, but that was barely twice a year lately. 

I had an appointment to see Carmen on Monday morning, and for the first time, I met her mother, Teresa. She was clearly Hispanic and very beautiful, with jet black hair pulled back tightly. She instantly reminded me of Katy Jurado, a long ago Mexican actress, mostly starring in western movies. I was slightly surprised, since Carmen was light-skinned, although she shared her mother's dark eyes and shiny black hair.

"Hello, you must be Mrs. Croft. I'm Stan Copely."

"Oh, Mr. Copely, how nice to meet you. My daughter will be with you shortly. She's just finishing up with another client."

I sat in one of the chairs by the entrance and picked up a magazine. I wasn't paying much attention to it though. I was busy watching Teresa. She was in her forties, I guessed. Not much older than me, if at all. She had an elegance about her that I found irresistible. Perhaps that was how I connected her with Katy Jurado. Her presence was just like the actress ... elegant and proud. 

I was still staring at her when Carmen opened the door to her office and ushered an older couple out, shaking their hands, and wishing them good luck. As they passed me, Carmen smiled and invited me in. I nodded to her mother and followed the young woman. 

"So Stan, Friday was your last day. How did it go?"

"Not bad. I mean, fine, I got everything done that I was supposed to do, and I got to say goodbye to my customers. I felt a little sad about that, but ...." I left it at that.

"Good. Now we can go to work on your former employer and see if we can get you some compensation for your troubles. Have you filed your last expenses?"

"No, I'll drop that off this morning. I wanted to say goodbye to a couple of the girls in that department anyway."

"Fine. I won't file until Wednesday or Thursday, but let's go over what I'm going to claim, and you can tell me if I've got anything wrong."

She began to read the various violations of Ohio labor statutes. It was a surprisingly long list. I had no idea there were so many regulations about what employers could or couldn't do. The more I heard, the more upset I was getting at how I'd been so stupid as to accept all these "rules."

When she finished, she looked up at me. "Well, did I miss anything?" She was smiling. I think she was looking forward to the tussle with F & C.

"I can't think of anything. What do you think will happen when they see this?"

"I suppose they'll run straight to their law firm and see just how much trouble they are in. They probably will want to deny or contest a lot of these violations as imaginary, or ones that you agreed to willingly. Luckily, you have witnesses and hard copy evidence in your files."

"I do?"

"Yes. You kept copies of your e-mails and office memos that spelled out the company policies. That comprises hard evidence. Our filing with them will contain copies of those statements. I believe they are going to have a very hard time contesting your claims."

"Well, as long as they pay me enough so that I can pay you for all your work," I grinned.

"Oh, I think we'll do just fine on that, don't you worry. I'm just amazed that you put up with this for so long. You must be one tough guy." There was a hint of admiration in here voice.

"I don't know about that. More likely I was just too soft to fight it. Too willing to go along and not make waves."

"Well, you're going to be making waves now, Stan." She sat back with a big smile of satisfaction.

When I left her office, I stopped at the reception desk and thanked Teresa for her courtesy. As I left, I saw Carmen packing up her briefcase and moving out toward her mother. They looked like very happy and successful people. I envied them.

I spent a good part of Monday afternoon, Tuesday and Wednesday calling my regular customers and asking them if there was any opportunity for me to work as an individual contractor. I would hire myself out to repair, service, or even provide training on both our equipment and our competitors. Over the years, I had collected service manuals for our competitors' equipment to see what they did differently, and why their equipment might be either superior or inferior. There wasn't anything about most machines that was beyond my experience.

The answers I got were encouraging. If I could work for the same or less than what F & C and the others charged, there was business available. In fact, the way the fees were structured, I could save them quite a bit if I was able to work on more than one brand of equipment. My only problem was to work out if I could make a good business at the going rate. I needed some help with that, and I went to the source I thought would give me good advice; Carmen.

I had also conveniently forgotten that one of the benefits of working for F & C was their health plan. I wasn't a frequent user of the plan, aside from a couple of yearly visits to my dentist and my annual physical. However, there was no guarantee that things would stay that way. I would need medical coverage if I was going into business for myself.

Thanksgiving Day I slept in, then rode with Tommy to the Foresters. The big meal of the day would be served at four o'clock, and the men would watch the NFL game while the women worked in the kitchen. I noticed Tommy helped out a bit while Dick and I generally goofed off. On the other hand, my old arrangement with Sylvia was that if she made the mess in the preparation of a special meal, I'd be the one to clean it up. Tommy and I knew the drill, so we would take over after supper.

We got a bit of resistance from Maureen and Jilly, but when Tommy and Dick made the count three against two, the ladies gracefully accepted our help. We reserved the right to call on them to determine where things should be put. The three of us made fairly short work of the dishes, pots and pans, much of it ending up in the dishwasher, but there was plenty of other items to hand wash and dry. 

By six o'clock, it was all over except the coffee. I was stuffed, and I could tell Dick and Tommy were as well. Maureen was a very fine cook and the food was irresistible. I declined a second glass of wine, knowing it would probably put me to sleep after a meal like that. The coffee was strong and the only way to keep me awake.

On Friday, I called Carmen's office, but it was closed for the Thanksgiving weekend. I left a voice mail requesting an appointment to discuss setting up my own business. I assumed they would get it Monday morning. In the meantime, Tommy was working Friday, while Saturday was our "move day." We didn't expect to be more than three or four hours with the move, so Jilly and my son would have some time to themselves on the weekend.

I decided to avoid the shopping areas and chose to do something I hadn't done in at least five years. I went skating. I remembered sticking my skates in a box of miscellaneous items that I took from the house and it only took a couple of minutes to find them and dust them off. The blades appeared to be sharp, so I was all set.

There was a community rink a couple of miles west of the motel and it was open for public skating from 1pm to 5pm this week on Friday and Sunday. I was looking forward to it again. Sylvia didn't skate and didn't want to learn. I used some of my Sunday afternoons to skate before my travel schedule got in the way, while my wife decided to stay home. She said it was too cold to sit in the stands and just watch me go around and around. 

I pulled on the skates and it was nice to feel how familiar they were. I had learned to skate when I was five or six, and played organized hockey all the way through high school. I was usually assigned to the defense because I was one of the few who could quickly transition from skating forward to backwards. I enjoyed the game and the camaraderie of playing on a team. When high school ended, so did my hockey.

I did a bit of stretching, just as I had been taught more than twenty five years earlier, and then stepped on the ice. It was an enjoyable experience to glide along the frozen surface once again. The rink was crowded, easily more than fifty skaters, young and old. Little girls practiced their spins in the middle of the rink, while young boys raced around the outside, showing off to their girlfriends. The adults just slipped quietly along, enjoying the motion and smoothness. 

I wasn't really paying attention to my surroundings as I skated. I was thinking about what I wanted to do now that I had made two very big decisions for my future. So it was no surprise that I didn't notice the woman skating beside me, keeping pace with my leisurely stride.

"Do you come here often, Mr. Copely?"

I turned in surprise and saw it was Teresa Croft. "Oh ... hello. I didn't see you there, Mrs. Croft."

"It's Teresa. May I call you Stan?"

"Yes, of course. And to answer your question, this is the first time I've been skating in over five years. My wife didn't skate, so ...." 

"It's my favorite exercise in the winter months. When the weather's nice, I walk. Right now, that's not very pleasant."

"No ... I guess not. I like to skate too. I'd forgotten how much until I laced up today. I almost feel like I should have a stick in my hands. Maybe I'll try and find a beer league to join."

"What's a beer league?"

"Just a bunch of guys who like to play hockey. No hitting, no slap shots, and no practices. Just perfect for a bunch of over-the-hill guys who don't ever plan to grow up," I grinned.

"So it's fun, then. That sounds like a very good idea. Good therapy for stress." 

"Yeah. That's the idea. Work off a little steam, have some fun and exercise. I haven't had the time in the last while, but if I can find a team, I think I'll join."

"Good for you, Stan. Get back into circulation with your friends and enjoy yourself. Trust me, it worked for me."

"Oh ... how so?"

"When my husband and I divorced, I was pretty down. I got talked into joining a ladies only club. We went for walks, played cards, and had social nights at each others' houses. It did me a lot of good. Stopped me from brooding about my failed marriage."

"Yeah ... I can see how that would help. My first goal is to find a new job. I'm going to talk to Carmen about starting my own company. I think I've got a chance to make a go of it on my own. At least I'd be my own boss."

"Wonderful! Good for you, Stan. And here's some more good news. I can help you with that. You don't need a lawyer to do what you want to do. My status as a paralegal can look after it ... and I work cheaper than Carmen," she laughed.

"Great. Then let me know when I can make an appointment to talk to you about it." I was enthusiastic about Teresa's quick response and offer of assistance. On top of that, I would get professional advice from a movie star look-alike. 

"Is Monday too soon?" she asked with a smile.

"Nope. Name a time and I'll be there."

"Nine o'clock too early?"

"Nine o'clock it is. Do I need to bring anything?"

"No ... just your usual information; Social Security, home address, and ... oh, I forgot. Do you have a permanent address?"

"I'm moving tomorrow. I have an apartment I'll be sharing with my son. He's moved out too. I also have a new phone number, so I guess we should be able to do all the paperwork."

She smiled as we skated along. As we reached the end of the rink and began our turn, two young boys went speeding past, one of them bumping Teresa's shoulder and knocking her off balance. I saw it happen and reached for her to steady her, holding her arm in one hand, my arm around her back to keep her from falling.

"Are you hurt?" I didn't think she was, but wanted to make sure.

"No. Just surprised. Thank you for catching me. Falling on the ice is no fun."

I was pleased that she was all right, and then a bit surprised she hadn't made any move to separate us. Reluctantly, I let go of her, and then took my arm from her back. I was tense from the quick reaction to her loss of control and the unexpected close contact with an attractive woman. We were silent for a few strides.

"Maybe you should hold onto my hand ... in case it happens again," she said, turning to me. 

My smile told her I thought that was a good idea. I held out my hand and she took it. She was wearing thin, soft leather gloves, and the warmth of her hand was evident as I held it. 

We skated together for a while longer until I suggested we take a rest and have a hot chocolate at the concession. She agreed and we walked awkwardly across the rubber matting to an unoccupied table. She sat while I ordered the two drinks and returned.

"I don't remember the last time I had a nice afternoon like this. I'm glad you saw me. It's made this very pleasant. I'll have to do this more often," I said.

"Thank you. I'm having a very nice time too. Usually, I come here on Sunday afternoon, so I'll probably be back here then."

"Would it bother you if I was here as well?" I didn't want her to think I was stalking her, but wouldn't mind spending some time with her.

"No. We could skate together again. I'd like that." She smiled, and that recurring image flashed through my mind. I was looking at her closely, mentally comparing the two very attractive women from a very different time.

"I know this is going to sound corny ... or maybe phony, but ... you resemble a movie star I've always admired."

"Oh, Stan. Is that the best you can do? Me ... look like a movie star? I don't think so," she laughed.

"No ... really. Her name is ... was ... Katy Jurado. She was in a lot of westerns ... even High Noon. She almost always played a Mexican woman ... I guess because she was Mexican. She looked so completely different from all the other actresses. Like you, she had beautiful eyes. I had a crush on her when I was a kid. I loved western movies and I would never miss one on TV if she was in it. Anyway, they haven't made any westerns in a long time, so I collect all the old ones on DVD and watch them at home."

She laughed again. "I'll have to look this Katy person up on the Internet. Maybe I could be a star if they ever bring back cowboy movies again." 

"That's not beyond the realm of possibility ... you being a star I mean. I'm not so sure about them bringing back the old westerns though. But ... you never know."

We talked for a while as the ice was being resurfaced. She knew about my problems at home, but didn't pry. I didn't ask her about her failed marriage either. I didn't want to spoil the mood. For the third time this week, I was enjoying myself, and I would get to do it again on Sunday. 

We went back on the ice, but nearing four o'clock, she said it was time for her to go home and get supper ready. Carmen and her boyfriend would be joining her tonight. 

"Guess what I'm serving?" she said. 

"Turkey leftovers," I guessed, and we both laughed. I was right.

I prepared to go home shortly after Teresa left. I scanned the bulletin board for any sign that some of the beer league teams were looking for players and found a couple of notes with tear-off phone numbers. I would call them tomorrow and see what it was about.

Saturday dawned cold and cloudy. No sign of rain, the weatherman said. Tommy and Jilly showed up just after nine and we prepared ourselves for the move. I thought ten o'clock would be late enough that it wouldn't bother Sylvia when we arrived to pick up the furniture. I was expecting an awkward moment when we appeared on the doorstep, but it couldn't be helped.

Tommy backed his friend's van into the driveway. I knew it was up to me to ring the doorbell, so I took a deep breath and pushed the button. I heard the chime and waited. It didn't take that long before the door opened and Sylvia stood there in her housecoat. She looked like she had just gotten out of bed. It wasn't a very flattering appearance.

"Oh, hello Stan. I suppose you want me to open the garage door," she said in a dull, lifeless voice.

"Please."

She turned and walked away toward the connecting door to the garage, and in a moment, the door began to open. Taking advantage of her absence, I moved to the garage and led Tommy in to assess what we would load first and how we would load it. Sylvia was standing at the inside door to the laundry room and watching us.

"I put some old towels and blankets over by the side. You can use them to protect the furniture," she said. It was an unexpected thoughtfulness on her part.

"Thanks." I wasn't about to engage in conversation with her if I could help it.

We loaded the van fairly quickly, noting that we would have at least one more load to go. Sylvia had disappeared, so we left with the door open, assuming she would close it at some point.

It took less than an hour to get to the apartment and move the furniture into the various rooms. We left Jilly there to decide where things should go and returned to our former home. The garage door was still open when we arrived. Tommy and I quickly loaded the remaining furniture, having just barely enough room for it and ourselves. I was about to leave when I decided to let Sylvia know we were finished.

I rang the chime once more and she appeared within a few seconds.

"We're all done, Sylvia. Thank you for letting us have the furniture. It's a big help."

She nodded, a forlorn look on her face. "After you get settled, maybe we should talk. I need to know what comes next, Stan."

I sighed and nodded. "Yes ... you're right. We need to talk. I'll call you next week after we've got ourselves organized."

And that was the extent of our conversation. I walked to the van and climbed in. Tommy looked at me, but I said nothing. He put the van in gear and we drove slowly away from our home of over twenty years. Neither of us looked back. We checked out of the motel on the way back to our new address. I wouldn't miss it.




Tipping Point Ch. 03



We decided to christen our new apartment and ordered pizza for our evening meal. Jilly joined us of course. She made a salad, and as usual, we had plenty of MGD available. I suggested to Tommy that if Jilly wanted to stay over that night it was fine with me. Jilly blushed, but after looking at Tommy, she agreed. As it turned out, she had a change of clothes with her. I wasn't dealing with kids anymore. Both of them were adults and I treated them as such. 

I had made a quick trip to Wal-Mart earlier in the week and purchased a four place setting of dishes and flatware. But I really didn't have a clue what I needed for pots and pans and utensils. I bought a few things like spatulas and large spoons, but that was about it. Once again, Jilly stepped into the breach and made a list for me. I could look after it on Sunday or Monday. 

We all slept in on Sunday morning, not rising until well after nine. I told Tommy and Jilly that I was going skating in the afternoon and they were welcome to join me. They declined, saying they had things to do, but would make supper for us that evening. I was happy with that. 

I phoned the two numbers I plucked from the rink bulletin board. There was no answer at the first, but the second was a young sounding guy who was enthusiastic about finding another player. We agreed to meet at the rink on Tuesday night when they had a game. I warned him that I was over forty and hadn't played in a long time. Furthermore, I didn't have any of my old equipment, so I'd have to rectify that before I could skate with him. That didn't seem to deter him, so we agreed to meet at 6:30pm on Tuesday.

I left for the rink early Sunday afternoon to get my skates sharpened before the public skating began. It didn't take very long and when I walked over toward the benches near the entrance to the ice surface, I spotted Teresa Croft and went to join her.

"Hi. Nice to see you again," I said.

"Hello, Stan. Did you get moved all right?"

"Yes. It wasn't difficult at all. We were done just before one o'clock, thankfully."

We were both in the process of lacing up our skates, waiting for the public skating time to begin.

"Did you find a hockey team to play with?" she asked.

"I did. I called one guy this morning and I'm meeting him Tuesday to see if I fit in. It could work out okay. In the meantime, I'm just enjoying my own space again. These past three weeks reminded me of how much I enjoy the privacy and quiet of a home."

She nodded her understanding. The buzzer sounded for the start of public skating, but we sat together on the bench until the initial rush of young people had subsided and we could walk onto the ice without hassle. There wasn't any rush and once again, Teresa took my hand as we skated.

When we took a break, I ordered hot chocolate for us and brought it back to the small table we had chosen. I found I was quite relaxed and comfortable in Teresa's presence, and I attributed that to her. She was easy to be with. Our conversation was light and contributed to my comfort.

"I looked up Katy Jurado on the Internet yesterday," she said with a penetrating look.

"Oh. Well, do you agree with me?"

"That I look like her? I suppose. I'm Mexican Indian in heritage, just as she was. The website had a couple of movie clips of her, so I got to see what you saw when you first developed your crush on her," she giggled.

"I'll admit it. I had a crush on her alright. Something about her was ... I don't know ... exotic maybe? She was so completely different from the usual Hollywood movie stars."

Teresa was nodding as I finished. "I agree. She is very different. I looked at myself in the mirror, and I couldn't see the resemblance. But then, I found some pictures of myself, and I could see what you meant. There is a resemblance, but ... I think she is much more beautiful than I am."

I was shaking my head. "I don't agree. But, it doesn't matter. It's what others see that counts. I see Katy's double. So, that's that!"

"Okay, Stan. I'm flattered, but not convinced. Can we leave it at that?"

"Sure. I wasn't trying to embarrass you. I just thought you should know that you have a double from another era."

She reached over and put her hand on mine, smiling at me. That simple gesture lifted me more than anything that had happened to me in recent weeks. When we left the rink we confirmed our meeting at her office the next morning at nine. 

I arrived at Carmen's office a little early and found Teresa just opening the door to the office. She smiled and ushered me in, asking me to draw up a chair beside her desk.

"Carmen's in court this morning, so I'm on my own. I hope you don't mind, but I may have to answer the phones when we're in the middle of our conversation."

"No, of course not," I agreed. 

"Good, then let's get started," she said brightly. She pulled out several papers from a file on her desk and passed the top one to me. We went through the pile one-by-one as she explained each to me and we decided if they were necessary or not. We took a break at ten for coffee, then finished up our meeting."

"There, Stan. When we file these papers, you will officially become President and Chief Executive Officer of Copely Services Inc., not to mention the only employee," she grinned.

"Yeah. I still need to deal with health insurance and liability as well. I hadn't thought of that either, but you said it was necessary. Can you suggest someone who can handle that for me?"

"Yes. Across the road you'll find Midwest Insurance Centers. They can handle anything you need, including car, house, liability, health ... the whole ball of wax. We've used them ourselves and have been completely satisfied. They are quite competitive with their rates. You should ask for Harmon Mortensen. He's our agent."

"Great. Thanks. Is there anything I've forgotten?"

"Just customers. You will have a business license and be properly insured, but you still need some customers." 

I could see she was poking fun, so I laughed. But come to think of it, that was a priority now. I'd made the big step, now I had to make it work. Luckily, one of my old confederates at F & C was in the business and had confided in me about the rate structure most service outfits used. I had never been told what our billing rates were by the company, and I never saw their invoices. I'd heard it was costly, but didn't have any idea of how the company charged for the work I did.

Dave Thomas was about ten years my senior, and had left F & C almost as soon as the austerity program was announced. He was a dedicated East Coast man, and that territory provided him with more business than he could handle. He now employed two men to pick up the additional work available. 

I had contacted him the Wednesday before Thanksgiving and had a long conversation with him. The upshot was that he encouraged me to strike out on my own. He e-mailed me his rate chart, asking me not to undercut him, at least in his own territory. I agreed. My interest was still centered in the Midwest, and I didn't want to start a service price war.

When I sat down and analyzed the chart, it was obvious that with enough work, I could make a very good living at this business. Much better in fact than when I was an F & C employee. If this is what they were charging my customers in the past, the service department had to be a profit center. Probably better than the sales department. 

It would take some time to build the customer base, but I was reasonably sure I could live off what money I had until that was accomplished. I based this belief on what the customers had told me when I did my phone survey.

*

My thanks to ErikThread and DaveT for their editing and technical expertise. Any errors are mine.



Tipping Point Ch. 04



Chapter 4: A Different Kind of Stan

I didn't wait to get started. I e-mailed each and every contact I had with a formal announcement that Copely Services was in business. I attached a copy of my rates, mirroring Dave Thomas', as well as my experience history and my new business phone number. I had subscribed to a new cell phone plan which gave me a bulk rate on any U.S. calls. 

I ordered some business cards on line that I designed myself from the templates provided. I kept the appearance simple and straightforward, hopefully reminding people of what kind of guy I was. I was really relying upon my reputation to gain a foothold in the business. My phone did not "ring off the hook" that first week.

I met with Terry Rhinesdorf at the rink on Tuesday evening to watch his hockey team in action. It was pretty ragged play, but I thought with a bit of practice and conditioning, I could help them. I told him I'd see him same time next week with some equipment and let him form his own opinion.

I had picked up hockey equipment during the week, opting for some "previously experienced" pads and pants, but new gloves and helmet, along with a couple of sticks. I bought a practice jersey in case they didn't have a team jersey available. I probably didn't need to spend the money at that point, but I wanted something to look forward to, and I was feeling a bit like it was my right to be a little selfish for a change.

I spent the weekend getting our apartment more "livable" with some prints for the bare walls, and with Jilly's help, curtains for our four windows. The ones that had been left behind by the previous tenant were in poor condition, not to mention very feminine. Jilly took the new ones home and hemmed them to fit properly, arriving back at the apartment just before dinner. We decided on a nearby Mexican restaurant and had a nice meal and a pleasant evening.

Sunday afternoon, I went back to the rink for a skate, but Teresa wasn't there. Too bad, I was looking forward to her company. She was a very attractive woman and didn't seem to mind my hanging around with her. Perhaps next week, I thought. 

I was getting a little antsy that I hadn't heard from any of my old customers when Monday morning rolled around. I figured that at least some of them would call to let me know they got my e-mail. I had received a couple of e-mails acknowledging my notice, but nothing else. So when my phone went off about 10am on Monday morning, I jumped in surprise.

"Copely Services," I answered.

"Hi Stan, it's Sue Palotti at Winston Candy." It was a familiar voice. Winston Candy was a large national candy producer and packer with three plants in the U.S. Sue was dayshift supervisor in Kansas City. I'd been in her plant several times in the past few years.

"Hey, Sue. How are you?"

"I'm fine Stan, but I can't say the same for a couple of my pieces of equipment. One of the F & C units won't seal and that piece of Italian crap they call a twist-wrapper is driving me crazy. Think you can help me?"

"Sure. When do you need me?"

"Last Friday would have been good, but I'll settle for as soon as you can get here. Your old company said they might be able to get someone here next week. I'll really be behind the eight-ball if I can't get going sooner."

"No problem. I'll get the first flight out I can and should be there tomorrow sometime," I said, excited with my first job."

"Hot damn, Stan. That's great. Just let me know when you're getting in and I'll get someone to pick you up at the airport. No need for a rental car. Don't worry about the hotel reservation either. I'll look after that."

"That would be great. Thanks a lot for giving me a call, Sue. I really appreciate it. You're Copely Services' first customer."

"I'll bet I'm not the only one. I'll look forward to seeing you and you can tell me all about what's going on," she said, sounding very happy.

I signed off and immediately got online to find a flight. I found a non-stop that left at 9am and arrived at 10am, Kansas City time. I booked it with an open return and paid with my credit card. I called Sue back.

"Hey, Sue. I got a good flight that will get me in by 10am tomorrow morning. That will give me most of the day to get at least one machine back on line."

"That's great, Stan. Boy, you've really helped me out. I'll make sure my boss knows about this. See you tomorrow morning, then."

It felt good to be able to help someone that quickly and I immediately pulled out my small travel bag and toolkit and checked them over. I called Terry Rhinesdorf to let him know I would be out of town on Tuesday and unable to attend the game. It only took me five minutes to pack for the trip and confirm I had all my necessary equipment. I was charged up to have my first billable business, and I was hoping this would just be the first of many in the future. I wondered when I would get that second call. I didn't have long to wait. My cell phone went off just before noon. 

"Copely Services."

"Hello, Stan. It's John Mankowitz in Plano. How are you?"

"Fine thanks, John. Just getting my new business up and running."

"That's what I was calling about. I've been having some intermittent problems with a couple of my machines and I could use some help. Any idea of when you might be around this way?"

"John, I'm headed for Kansas City tomorrow and I should be wrapped up there Wednesday afternoon. If I can catch a late flight, I should be in Dallas that night and at your place Thursday morning. Is that quick enough?"

"Hell, yes. That's plenty fast enough. It'll be good to see you again. I'd like to hear about you settin' up your own business."

"Well, we should have some time, so let me got off the phone and find a flight and I'll let you know when you can expect me."

"That's great, Stan. Thanks for jumpin' on this. I 'preciate it."

I flipped my phone closed and smiled. I was in business! I checked the flights to Dallas from K.C. and found what I needed. There were three beginning in the mid-afternoon and I booked the latest, hoping I could move up if I was finished early at Winston Candy. I repacked my bag for an extra two days, and wondered if I'd get another call this week.

When Tommy came home from work, I greeted him with a big smile and a "Guess what?"

"You've got a job," Tommy guessed immediately.

"Two, in fact. One in K.C. and the other near Dallas. I'm in business for myself, son."

"That's great, Dad. I'm really happy for you."

We had some chili I bought at the supermarket deli, along with a tossed salad and a beer to celebrate my first two contracts. It couldn't have tasted better if it was a prime Porterhouse steak. I felt more energy that I had in a month of Sundays. An early bedtime would make sure I was in good shape for my trip and the work ahead of me.

When I got off the plane in Kansas City I was surprised to see Sue herself waiting for me at the baggage carousel. 

"Hey, Sue, you didn't have to come out to get me," I said, happy that she had made the effort.

"I couldn't let you ride with just anybody, Stan. Especially not after you came as quick as you did. Besides, you can tell me about your new business and what's goin' on in your life as we drive to the plant. 

My bag arrived and we hoofed it to the parking lot and Sue's car. The weather was cold, but there was no snow on the ground yet. Just the same, the prevailing color was brown. Sue drove the twenty minutes to the plant while I told her about what caused me to strike out on my own. I didn't tell her that I had separated from my wife, and she didn't ask any questions, just listened.

We arrived at the plant and we walked onto the production floor after I'd pulled on the obligatory white smock and hair net. Sue led me over to the two machines that were giving her trouble and I set down my tool kit and asked her to show me what was happening. Within ten minutes, I was underway with my adjustments and repairs. I would fix the F & C unit first before starting on the Italian twist-wrap machine.

Sue tapped me on the shoulder at 12:30 and asked me if I wanted lunch. I nodded and cleaned up, heading for the lunch room. Once upon a time they dispensed hot lunches at Winston Candy, but no more. I could buy a sandwich, a salad, and one of a variety of drinks at the counter. Salted snacks and candy bars were available from the vending machines. I settled for a sandwich and a pint of milk.

I sat at one of the empty tables, but was soon joined by Sue and three other ladies I recognized from the operating floor. 

"Hi, Stan. Good to see you again," Flo Meekins said happily. Flo was one of the operators on the twist wrap machine. She was middle-aged and reasonably attractive. She wore her brown hair tied up in a bandana along with the mandatory hairnet. 

I nodded, my mouth full of sandwich. 

"Stan's on his own, now," Sue told the three women. I called him yesterday, and here he is today. How about that for service?" she grinned.

Flo didn't waste a second. "Aw, he's just here cuz you called him, Sue. No man can resist your charms," she laughed, as did the other two. 

I damn near choked on my sandwich at that. At least that would explain why I was red in the face.

Sue was quick to proclaim, "Now girls, you know Stan is a perfect gentleman. Not like some of those pussy hounds that like to troll the floor around here." 

"Yeah," agreed Iris, a husky, frizzy-haired woman, her smile showing crooked teeth. "He ain't nothing like my old man, that's for sure." The three other women joined in the general laughter. 

We went back to work and I finished on the F & C machine just after 3pm. As usual, the settings had been fiddled with by someone without the knowledge to know what they were doing. We called these people "knob twiddlers," since they couldn't resist changing machine settings despite the fact that it was running perfectly. They created all sorts of problems, but no amount of education or threats seemed to change their bad habits. Oh well, they would keep me in business, I suppose.

I started on the Ferrinetti twist-wrap machine to see if could figure out what the source of the problem was. The operators were sure it was the film, but I wasn't convinced without checking it myself. They started it up and almost immediately I told them to shut it down. It was making a god-awful sound in its innards, and I didn't want to do any more damage than had already been done. I began the laborious process of taking the shrouds off the machine and getting at its mechanical guts. 

I had a pretty good idea of where the problem was located, but it was going to take me some time to get at it. When Sue tapped me on the shoulder and pointed to the clock on the wall, I saw it was almost five o'clock. I nodded. Time to quit. I'd start again in the morning.

"You get cleaned up and I'll meet you out in the parking lot. I'll warm up the car," Sue promised with a smile. 

I was feeling pretty good. I was pretty sure I'd only need three or four hours to fix the Ferrinetti, so I could catch an afternoon flight to Dallas and be on the job in Plano first thing Thursday morning. I was operating on residual adrenalin energy, happy that I had a couple of revenue producing jobs to begin my new career. 

"Do you mind if you stay my place, Stan? I've got an extra bedroom and the rent's cheap. Breakfast is served too," she said with a sly look.

"Oh ... Sue ... I couldn't do that. I mean ...." I didn't know what I meant at that moment. She had caught me completely off guard.

"Relax, Stan. I couldn't get a reservation at the Holiday Inn, so I decided you could stay with me. I'm a decent cook, so you won't have to put up with restaurant food. Besides, I live alone and I'd enjoy the company of a handsome man for a change."

"Oh ... uh ... I don't know, Sue." I really was stuck in neutral for a few moments. Sue, however, wasn't going to take no for an answer.

"Come on, Stan. I won't bite. Maybe just nibble a bit," she laughed. "Seriously, you're a good friend and someone I trust. I wouldn't invite you otherwise."

I turned and looked at her in the darkness of the car. The lights of the passing cars illuminated her face and I could see that she was serious. This wasn't a joke or a tease.

"Well ... as long as I'm not a problem for you," I said lamely.

"Oh, you're definitely not a problem. Trust me," she said. I thought I saw the hint of a smirk when I looked at her in the intermittent light.

We pulled up to a small bungalow in the middleclass neighborhood south of the plant. As far as I could tell in the dark, the house was in good condition as was the yard. She parked in a one car garage and we walked into a mud room attached to the kitchen. Sue was flicking on the lights as we went. 

The house was tidy and organized. No sign of dirty dishes or anything out of place. That wasn't a surprise. That was how Sue ran her shop floor. She was a stickler for keeping the machine areas clean and uncluttered. After all, they were making a food product and she was very conscious of that fact. Working in her plant was a pleasure compared to some of the places I visited.

"How does homemade lasagna, garlic toast, and a tossed salad sound?" she called as I looked around the living room.

"Great."

"Put your bags in the bedroom on the left, Stan."

I followed her instructions and took my bathroom kit out, placing it on the dresser. The two bedrooms were separated by a bathroom. I hung up tomorrow's shirt, flicked off the light, and headed back to the kitchen.

I walked in and Sue passed me a glass of red wine. "Here, the lasagna will be a few minutes heating in the oven. In the meantime, we can talk. You can tell me all about what caused you to make this big leap."

I took a sip of wine, collecting my thoughts. "I got to a point where I couldn't live the way I was living any more. I was traveling all the time, and not getting any pleasure from my job. I hated my boss and didn't respect my company any more. I could see them failing at some point, and then I really would be out of a job."

"What did your wife think when you wanted to quit?"

"I didn't ask her. She and I hadn't been getting along and it all came to a head when I got home from a long road trip. She'd been out with her girlfriends and didn't get back until sometime after 2am. I got on her case the next morning and got a lot of nasty feedback from her. I guess that was the breaking point right there. I'd been thinking about how unhappy I was, and she was acting miserable towards me, so when she started to getting snarky about answering my question, I lost it. I grabbed some clothes and left right then and there."

"Wow! That doesn't sound like the Stan Copely I know. So, you not only walked out on your wife, but you quit your job too?"

"Yup. Walked out Saturday morning and handed in my notice on Monday morning. I was amazed how good it felt." 

Sue was shaking her head in surprise. "Boy, you must have really been pushed to the wall."

"Yeah. That's what I had been thinking about on that Friday night. Things were coming to a head and I couldn't see how they were going to get any better. Sylvia pushed me too hard and the rest was inevitable. Now ... I wonder why I didn't do something sooner."

At that point the bell went off on the oven and Sue got up to serve our meal. I refilled the wine glasses and we sat for dinner. There wasn't a lot of conversation during the meal. The lasagna was hot and delicious, and that kept us occupied.

I had never really paid much attention to Sue as a woman over the years we had been associated. The first time I called on Winston Candy, Sue was the machine operator. She had paid careful attention when I repaired and reset the controls on the machine. That caught my interest right away. Most of the time, the operators disappeared into the lunchroom until the machine was fixed, then came out to resume their jobs, having learned nothing. Sue watched, absorbed, and succeeded accordingly. Small wonder she was promoted to supervisor.

But the Sue Palotti that sat at the kitchen table with me that evening was a different person. She wasn't tall, probably five two or three, but she was definitely all female. On the job she wore and shapeless smock and a hairnet that really masked her appearance. Here in her own surroundings, she was an attractive dark blonde in her late thirties, I guessed. She had a very rounded body with prominent breasts and backside. She didn't possess an hourglass figure, but to me she was very sexy.

"I don't see any rings, so I assume you aren't married," I said, wondering if I was being too nosy.

"Nope. Never been married. Still looking for Mr. Right," she said without emotion. Then she looked up at me. "Why? You want to apply for the position?" I was sure she was teasing.

"No, just curious. You're a very attractive woman and I thought you would have lots of opportunities to find Mr. Right."

"Mr. Right is very hard to find. Believe me, I've seen all the variations of Mr. Wrong, so I know the difference." She was silent for a few moments until, "What about you, Stan. You're a good looking guy. You shouldn't have any trouble finding someone to replace your wife if that's what you decide to do."

"Me? Good looking? That's a laugh."

"I'm serious. You're a very sought-after article for a single woman. You look good, you're not overweight, you don't act crude, you're polite, you don't drink too much, and you work hard. You are more attractive than you realize."

"You forgot ... I'm kind to animals too," I laughed.

"Okay, okay, you don't believe me, but I'm not wrong. I know the difference, and you are the real deal."

"I'm very flattered you think so," I conceded.

"If you lived around here, I'd be after you in a flash," she said. I didn't doubt her for a moment, but I was surprised.

"Well, for the time being, I'm still married, so ..."

"So what? When you make up your mind what you want to do about your marriage, let me know. I'll be here," she smiled.

"Yeah ... when I make up my mind. In the meantime, Sue, please don't mention it to anyone. It's pretty personal, you know.

"Sure. I'm surprised you told me, but ... thanks. I'm touched that you confided in me."

We watched a little TV, but Sue was an early riser, so we both headed off to bed at ten, knowing that 6am would come soon enough. As I lay in the bed that night, I thought about Sue and Sylvia. It was probably unfair, but I was comparing them. Sylvia was taller and slimmer, but Sue had a down-home attractiveness that made her very likeable. It made me think a little harder about the decision I knew I would have to make about our marriage, sooner or later.

The next morning I was up and ready to go in plenty of time. I helped myself to a bowl of cereal, and Sue had the coffee maker on a timer, so we had fresh coffee before we left for the plant. I noticed she put the dishes and utensils in the dishwasher, then emptied and cleaned the pot before we left. She had a couple of donuts for us to munch on in the car. I thanked her for the meal and the bed. It was an unexpected bonus on my first job.

I went right to work on the Ferrinetti, and it wasn't long before I knew the machine had jammed and someone had tried to force it to run. I was hoping that I could repair the damage without having to rely on the notoriously slow factory in Italy for parts. About an hour into the tear-down, I found the problem. It was a bent control arm, and I doubted that it could be straightened without weakening it. I took a walk to the maintenance office and showed the problem to Fred Connors, the supervisor.

We talked about it for a while, realizing that whatever we did, we would need to order a replacement part right away. The short-term problem was how to get the machine up and operating with a temporary fix. Luckily, Fred was a pretty clever guy. Between us, we figured a way to straighten and reinforce the shaft by welding a sister piece to it. It wouldn't be pretty, but it might do until the proper part arrived.




Tipping Point Ch. 04



By eleven that morning, we had the cobbled-up part ready to install and I got right to it. I took a while to wedge it into place, but with a bit of tapping and wrestling, we got it on the shaft. Without having to put the entire machine back together, I found a way to test the jury-rigged part. Sue, Fred, and I all breathed a sigh of relief when it chose to cooperate. We had our temporary fix. There were high fives all around.

As I reassembled the shrouds, I reset the clutch on the machine so that it wouldn't jam again. I don't know if it was ever adjusted properly, but at least if there was another jam it wouldn't stress the control arm too much. I showed Sue and Fred what I had done and why. Neither of them knew that there was a clutch adjustment.

"I'll call you when that part arrives, Stan," Fred said. "I'll be more confident if you install it." 

"That would be expensive, Fred," I cautioned. 

"Normally, yes. But I have a couple of other machines I want you to look at when we both have the time. I could use your assessment on their condition. I'm trying to decide if I should replace them or fix them up and keep them. I'd value your opinion."

"Okay, that makes sense," I said happily.

By two o'clock, I was packed up and ready to leave. I handed Sue my smock and threw the disposable hairnet in the garbage can. She walked with me out the exit to the parking lot after she got her purse. Before I could get beyond the door, she grabbed my arm and pulled me into her for an unexpected surprise. I got a very long, passionate kiss from one Sue Palotti. When we broke, I quickly looked around to see if anyone had witnessed the moment.

"Don't worry, Stan. No one can see us here. I just wanted to thank you for coming so quickly and helping me out. I think you're going to have a very good business in the near future, and I'm going to do everything I can to make Winston Candies your favorite stop," she grinned.

"You already have. Maybe, when I get my life straightened around, I might want to ask you for a date."

"I'll be waiting for you to ask," she smiled. "Now, let's get you to the airport. I think you said Dallas was your next stop."

We made the quick trip and kissed again before I got out of the car. I watched and waved as she drove away and thought just how unusual this last twenty-four hours had been. I had no business kissing Sue, but I didn't feel very guilty either. Maybe the hint of Sylvia's possible cheating was in the back of my mind. Still, I didn't feel I should be getting involved with my customers on a personal level.

I caught a four o'clock flight to Dallas, unfortunately arriving in rush hour. I drove with the slow, heavy traffic north to Plano, arriving at the hotel just before seven. I checked in and decided to have dinner in the hotel restaurant. I wasn't tired, but I was looking forward to a relaxing evening watching TV. I phoned Tommy just before nine o'clock his time and chatted with him, catching up on the day's events.

"Dad ... uhhm ... Jilly and I checked on Mom on Tuesday night. She went out and we followed her. She went to an apartment building, but we couldn't tell which unit she went to. We hung around for an hour or so, then went home. That's all I know. I made a note of the address, in case you might recognize it. We couldn't get into the lobby. You need a key for that. I guess we didn't learn very much."

"Playing detective isn't easy, is it," I said with a smile. "Was she dressed up again?"

"Sort of. We couldn't really tell for sure. Anyway, we'll try again tomorrow night. It will be interesting to see if she goes to the same place."

"You don't have to, Tommy. We might not learn anything this way, but ... suit yourself. Just don't do anything to get in trouble, okay?"

"Yeah ... okay, Dad. When are you coming home?"

"I'm likely home tomorrow night, but I'll let you know if I'm delayed."

We said our goodnights and hung up. I sat there in the chair for a while, wondering just what Sylvia was up to. I was in no position to hire a private investigator, so it was unlikely I was going to find out very much unless either Tommy or I got lucky. 

It didn't take me long to get the two machines in question tuned up and running to specification. Plano was the home of Autowash Soap. They produced dishwasher detergent, but lately had entered the soluble soap tab business. Their machines were old, reliable horizontal wrappers, but not very fast. As their business increased for this new segment, John was wondering if they would be able to keep up to the demand. One big Walmart order might swamp them. I promised I would write him a report on their capability.

Once again it was a case of the settings being adjusted and adjusted again, and then adjusted once more. The result was that the machines were so far out of spec that it was a wonder they were working at all. I reset all the controls and wrote down the settings for each of the machines on a piece of paper and copied it on the Xerox machine. I gave the original to John and kept a copy for myself for future reference. He looked at me with a sly grin and thanked me. He knew what I was telling him.

I was on a plane by four o'clock with arrival in Cincinnati at seven-fifteen that evening. I could take Friday off and still have enough billing to meet my needs for the week. I also had two e-mails that I received from customers looking to see when I would be available to visit them. I sent off replies before boarding the plane, hoping it would mean more business for next week.

I arrived home to an empty apartment. I assumed Tommy was out with Jilly, so I unpacked my bag and made myself comfortable with a beer and the evening paper. My first week in business for myself was very satisfying. Now it was a matter of finding enough sustainable business without running myself into the ground again. In my dreams, I wanted to have to hire someone to assist me with all the business I would create. In my dreams.

Friday morning I wrote my report to John Mankowitz in Plano. I suggested a maximum weekly output for the machines, allowing a bit of downtime for normal servicing. The good news from their point of view was that there was only one size of film, so the machines never needed a size change. They had a variety of private label printings, but all the tabs were the same dimensions. The bad news was that they were rapidly reaching the capacity of the two machines. They were really an ideal candidate for a high speed dedicated machine.

I sat back for a moment as a random thought entered my mind. I knew where there was an idle machine that would fit the bill for them. One of my newer clients in Minneapolis had been gifted with just such a machine, but had no use for it. They had once asked me if I knew of anyone who might want to buy one. They would sell cheap to get it off their books.

Well, here goes nothing, I thought. I mentioned the machine in my e-mail to John, telling him that it would be available immediately, would give him the capacity he needed now and for the foreseeable future. It would need some work done on it, plus an installation, but I had looked over the unit myself and I was sure it was in good working condition. Would John be interested?

He called me before noon that morning. "Hell, yes. That sounds like the answer to an old man's prayers. How much do they want for it?"

"Not sure, John. I'll phone them this morning and find out. Then, I'll work out an estimate for crating, shipping, and installation. I can service it once it gets to your plant. It's a good machine, it just doesn't fit what they need."

"When I talked to the sales manager this morning, he let me know we've got another new customer coming on next month. I think I'm going to be out of capacity unless we work a shitload of overtime. That will kill any profits," John moaned.

"Understood. I should be able to get you an answer and costs by Monday. If you go for it, I can get it to you within a week, and we can have it up and running before the New Year."

"Okay. I'll give the accounting and management people a heads up so this doesn't get bogged down. In the meantime, thanks a hell of a lot, Stan. You sure know how to look after your customers." 

He was sounding a lot more optimistic when he hung up. I was too. I was now in the machinery trading business. The thought also crossed my mind that John would only need one of the two existing machines for back-up in case of problems. That means there might be one for sale. I might just find another customer with a need for that piece of equipment if I was lucky. I was getting in the entrepreneurial spirit with this new business. Why not find unused equipment, recondition it, and sell it to a customer in need? Could I even offer a warranty on used equipment? 

I got on the phone to Viking Nutritional right away. Yes the machine was still available and for sale. Yes they would accept any reasonable offer, provided it wasn't below the book value. I would have to guess at that number and I didn't have a clue where to start. I got on the internet and looked up the used equipment dealers, trying to find out what a similar machine would sell for. It didn't take long. 

I took the closest model to the one at Viking and making a wild guess, cut the listed price in half. If I was right, these machines sat around a long time before selling, so the margins had to be pretty high. I hoped I was right. I called my contact at Viking back.

"Dave, I can offer you twenty five thousand for that machine, as is, where is. Can you live with that?"

"Yeah. I'm okay with that. To be honest, I'm just happy to get it out of here and off our books. How soon do you want it?"

"I've got to arrange crating and shipping, but if all goes well, I should be able to pull it out of there next week. Is that too soon?"

"Nope. Suits me fine. Who am I selling this to, by the way? Not a competitor I hope."

"No. It's a soap manufacturer. It's for wrapping those tabs that you use in your dishwasher. Listen, I better get a confirmation and a purchase order to you pronto. Is there anything else I haven't thought of?"

"Nope. You get me a P.O. and we're in business. We'll look after the credit check on this guy. I assume he's okay?"

"Yeah. Long time customer and not slow pay."

And that was it. John had a purchase order in Dave's hand that afternoon for the machine. All I had to do was to work out the shipping and installation costs. For that part I could use my old F & C contacts. I was on the phone most of the afternoon gathering the information I needed to run the estimates. Just to be on the safe side, I added some cushion on the installation. The crating and shipping were known costs and there wouldn't be any surprises.

I heard Tommy come in the door and looked up at the clock. It was almost six. I had been on the phone and the internet all afternoon setting up this sale. It was worth the effort. I had solved two customers' problems, made a few dollars for myself, and was promised the support of Viking Nutritional for future work. My third official customer.

I told Tommy all about the fun I had today, not having to leave my home office once. I'd be away for a while a couple of weeks from now when Viking's machine arrived at Autowash, but I would be looking forward to earning a nice fee for setting up the machine.

"You're really enjoying this, aren't you?" Tommy said with a smile as we ate supper.

"Yeah. I'm actually having fun and making money at the same time. Now I know what my old colleagues were talking about when they said they wished they'd gone out on their own sooner. I'm also thinking about maybe getting into the reconditioning and resale of machines. Not right away, but if I can match up sellers to buyers, it could be very profitable."

Tommy was smiling and nodding. "Yeah ... you're having fun all right."

We talked some more about things in general. Tommy was getting himself prepared to start the classes at South Ohio Technical. It was mid-December and they were only three weeks away. Then a thought struck me.

"Have you seen your mother lately? Have you talked to her?"

"No ... actually I haven't done either. I guess I don't know what to say to her."

"Tommy, I don't want you to cut your mother out of your life. She's your mother and you're her son. That will never change in spite of what I do about our marriage. When you get married and have children, she'll be the grandmother. Nothing will change that."

He looked at me, not happy I guessed by the look on his face. "I'm not sure I can face her right now ... you know. I'll be pretty pissed at her if she's cheating on you."

"You don't know that, son. Give her the benefit of the doubt. It won't hurt to talk to her. Let her know you're okay and talk to her about your plans, just like we did tonight. Maybe she'll open up to you where she wouldn't to me. You won't know unless you try."

*

My thanks to ErikThread and DaveT for their editing and technical skills. Any errors are mine.



Tipping Point Ch. 05



Chapter 5: Pain and Progress

I remembered I had promised Sylvia the day we moved into the apartment that we would talk about our future. I wasn't looking forward to it, but I had promised, and I almost always kept my promises. The important ones, anyway. On Monday evening, I phoned her.

"Hi, Sylvia, it's me. I thought I would call and see when we could get together to talk."

"Yes ... of course. We did agree to talk, didn't we? Is Wednesday evening alright? I have to go out tomorrow night."

"Wednesday will be fine. Is seven-thirty okay? We can meet there if that's alright with you."

"Sure. Seven-thirty at the house. See you then."

When I hung up the phone I realized she had something to do Tuesday night, and the first thing I thought of was Tommy's observation that it was one of the two nights she went out when I was away. I wondered if I had the nerve to confront her about that when we met. And what of her absent-mindedness about having a talk? Did I really have to remind her about it? I found the conversation unsettling, and it would bother me until I could tell her what was on my mind.

I took two prospective service calls on Tuesday and Wednesday. One was for my former customer in Denver. They had replaced the F & C equipment with a competitor's import product, but they were having problems with them, particularly the manuals. They were translated into English, but not very useful translations, it seemed. They needed my help. I worked around my installation commitment to John in Plano and promised to be there next week.

The second call was a surprise. It was Byron Mulliner, the V.P. of Operations for Winston Candy. I knew who he was, but I had never met or talked to him before.

"Mr. Copely, your name has been given to me as someone who can help me with a fairly serious problem we are having in our North Carolina plant. We have purchased a very high speed, sophisticated vacuum packaging machine from Europe that is supposed to package cocoa powder. I don't want to admit how much we spent on it, but I can tell you it isn't performing anywhere near its stated potential. What I have right now is the machinery manufacturer telling me it's my people who don't understand how to set up and operate the machine. On the other hand, my maintenance people claim that with the language barrier and the attitude of the technicians that were sent over here, they are having a hell of a time getting the machine up to speed. What I need is someone to cut through the ... crap ... and get it working. Can you help?"

Well that certainly was cutting to the chase. "I can't answer that without seeing the machine and the situation, but I'd be willing to try. If you could have one of your people fax or courier me a manual, I could have a look at the systems and tell you if it's within my experience. It would only take me a day or two to figure out what I was looking at, then I could tell you if you would be wasting your money on me."

"That's honest enough. You've got a pretty good reputation in this company. I'm keeping my fingers crossed that you can help. There's a lot at stake here. I'll make sure you get the manual pronto. And ... thanks for whatever help you can give us."

Now that, I thought as we signed off the call, was an ego boost. He's in trouble and he wants me to see if I can save the situation. But North Carolina was in Dave Thomas' territory. I picked up the phone again and called him.

"I've got no problem with that, Stan. I don't have any business with them, so feel free. You may have yourself a tiger by the tail, though. I hear they bought a Swiss Helmvac unit; the latest and greatest. Seven hundred and fifty thou, they say. Built like a Swiss watch, but just as finicky. Good luck!"

I knew Dave well enough to know that he wasn't someone to get involved in complex situations. Standard machine applications were fine, but he avoided any tricky or sophisticated units. I had a different view of it. I was always trying to learn how things worked. This installation was a challenge, and since I had the time, I would accept it if it was within my capabilities. The up side was the reputation I would gain if I could help.

I was going to be very busy in the next three weeks. I had the installation in Plano beginning next week. The machine should be on the road today or tomorrow, so I would expect it to be on the site Monday. I would phone the trucker Friday to confirm. Then I needed to get to Charlotte pronto to look at the Helmvac first hand and get a sense of what was going on over there. I had a feeling I was going to be a referee as well as an analyst. 

And just to complicate things further, I had two service requests come in by e-mail. The Denver one I already knew about, but it was becoming more urgent. The second was not far from Dallas, so I might be able to handle that next week when I was in Plano. I called both customers to determine what the urgency was. It sounded like Denver, so I booked a flight Thursday morning, hoping I could get there and back by Friday evening. I was no longer wondering when the business would begin to roll in. 

The Helmvac manual arrived Tuesday afternoon by courier and I set about reviewing it. It didn't take long to figure out what was causing some of the problems. The manual was unnecessarily detailed, making an already complex machine even more unfathomable. Part of the problem was nomenclature. Their words for some parts and pieces were different from what we would call them in North America. On top of that, all the dimensions and temperature controls were metric. Again, that was an obstacle to most American plants. Luckily, I had some experience with British and German-built equipment, and I had a decent working knowledge of the terminology. I had a plan when I went to Charlotte, but I had to hope for a bit of luck to pull it off.

I called Byron Mulliner. "Mr. Mulliner, I received the manual and I think I've found a couple of things that will help, no matter what. The manual is an English translation by the people in Switzerland. It features European nomenclature and metric dimensions. I'm going to recommend you have a North American translation done to give your people a chance to succeed."

"How do I get that done, and how long will it take?"

"I have a contact, Jacob Phaltz. He owns a company called Precise Word Services, and he provides exactly what you need. With your permission, I will contact him and get a time and cost estimate for a translation. I can assure you, he is very good at this sort of thing."

"Good. That's a good start. Go ahead and call him. Keep me informed, and ... thanks for the quick action. I appreciate it."

I called Jake at his Vancouver office. "Hi, Jake, it's Stan Copely."

"Hey, Stan. How are you? How are things at F & C?"

I filled Jake in on all the changes in my life lately, with the exception of my marriage. He was enthusiastic about my being on my own. We discussed the Helmvac project and he was confident he could get it done in a week to ten days maximum. He gave me a cost estimate and I promised I'd get an okay and a purchase order to him along with a manual within a day if Mr. Mulliner gave the approval. 

He did ... almost instantly. I informed him I would be visiting his Charlotte plant early next week to see what I could learn in the short term. Again, Byron Mulliner was pleased with my quick response. 

Within two days, Jake had the manual and a purchase order for ten copies of an "Americanized" version. That would eliminate the language problem to some degree. The rest of my plan would rely upon a bit of luck.

I had Tuesday to study the manual, arrange my flight, hotel, and car reservations, then relax for a while. I was astonished at how quickly I had gone from being unemployed to working full blast. The thing was, I was enjoying it. It was my company and my time, and I didn't resent the demands one little bit.

One thing I was going to have to do was make sure I monitored my commitments and not promise something I couldn't produce. The Helmvac project was a risk. Oh, I would get paid, but the big payoff would only come if I succeeded. When big companies get pulled out of an expensive hole, the word gets around. No amount of advertising would ever produce the results that executive word-of-mouth could create, good or bad.

On Wednesday, I treated myself to a day off. I had some time to think about all the changes that had happened so very quickly since I had left Faraday and Crosse. I didn't have a moment's regret over any of the decisions I made. Yes, I was busy, but it was because I wanted to be busy. I enjoyed it when I could help people. And now, I had control over when and how I could help them. I didn't have to ask anyone for permission other than the customer. I liked that a lot.

I reached into my pocket to see how much cash I had, when I noticed the note that Tommy had given me with the address where Sylvia had gone the previous Tuesday. I hadn't looked at it until now, but I immediately recognized the street name: Old Ferry Road. I could feel the anger rising up in me as I retrieved the phone book. I looked up Peter Ambleton, and there it was: Ambleton, Peter J., 14610 Old Ferry Road. She was seeing her boss.

I had only met Peter twice, the first time at his home when he threw a party to celebrate his promotion to branch manager, along with Sylvia's promotion to claims manager. I could recall his comments to a group of men standing around him as he extolled the virtues of the single life. Apparently, he was having no problem finding bed partners. I thought it was pretty sleazy at the time, but said nothing to Sylvia. He was pretty full of himself that day, and well lubricated with whiskey. 

The second time was at their Christmas party last year. Again, he was drinking and boasting about his prowess with the women, but only when there were no women present. I hadn't changed my opinion of him, and since Sylvia reported directly to him, it wasn't a good idea to offer it to her. Now, I wondered why I hadn't. I also wondered how long it had been going on.

It gave me some ammunition for my meeting with Sylvia however. It also resolved my indecision about our future. I was going to go through with the divorce, and it would be on my terms.

It seemed strange to walk up the steps to my front door and ring the chimes that evening. How many times had I just turned the knob and walked in? Sylvia answered promptly, not showing any surprise that I had announced my arrival first.

"Hello, Stan. Good to see you again. Would you like a drink? Coffee?"

"Coffee's fine, thanks," I answered, watching her closely. She was being very cautious it seemed to me. On the other hand, she didn't seem to be nervous. I was going to have to be careful until I could tell just what she was feeling about our situation. We sat apart on the sofa, our coffee on the low table in front of us, neither having the words to begin the conversation. 

Finally, I decided to start. "It's been several weeks since I ... left, Sylvia. A lot has happened since then. I'm sure you know I've resigned from F & C. I now have my own business, Copely Services. So far, it's going quite well. I'm glad I took the chance. I'm a lot happier this way, being my own boss."

"Yes, I'm sure you are. Can you make a living at it? I mean a steady living?" she asked.

"Yes, I'm pretty sure I can now. I was worried at first, but I've had more calls in the last few days, and I'm going to be busy for the foreseeable future. It doesn't mean any less travel, but at least I'm in charge. I can say yes or no."

"Well, that certainly is a big change for you. But, I suppose that means you'll be on the road just as much, if not more than before?"

"Yes, for now it does. But it's my choice. I can turn down a job ... or at least delay it if I want. I don't intend to burn myself out right in the beginning. I'm very busy now, but I had yesterday and today off. So far, no weekend work either."

I saw her shoulders slump. Was it a sign of defeat or resignation? I didn't know.

"What about us, Stan? What will happen to us?"

"I don't know. What do you want to happen?"

"I want things to be like they were before," she said.

I was already shaking my head before she finished the sentence. "No ... no ... that's not going to happen. I'm not going back to ... that! We were both miserable. We didn't talk to each other, and you had a hard time even being civil to Tommy and me. I told you when I left, I'm not going back there."

"I can change, Stan. I know I can."

"You've never even told me why you were so unhappy in the first place. I think you owe me that at least." I realized I was beginning to raise my voice and I could see that it was intimidating Sylvia.

She was shaking her head, but saying nothing. I was beginning to think this meeting was going to be a waste of time. I needed something to shake her up. It was then I decided to take a calculated gamble.

"Did you know that our son thinks you were cheating on me?"

Her head snapped up immediately. "No!"

I couldn't tell whether that was a confession of ignorance or a denial.

"He tells me you used to go out on Tuesday and Thursday evening, and not come home until after he went to bed. But you only went out when I wasn't home. You can guess why he thought what he did."

"I wasn't cheating on you," she said with a forlorn look.

"Oh? Just what were you doing at Peter Ambleton's house at night?"

Again, her head snapped up at the question. I sat as impassively as I could, trying not to show any emotion. She started to say something, then stopped.

"Peter likes to brag about his female conquests. Were you one of them?"

She brought her hands to her mouth, but still said nothing.

"I guess that says everything that needs to be said. I'll be filing for divorce immediately. The grounds will be irreconcilable differences. I will allow you to pick up the papers at my lawyer's office rather than having you served. However, if I get any grief from you or anyone else, I can easily change it to adultery, and the process server will find you at your office."

I was forceful when I made that statement, and Sylvia's eyes widened in shock. It wasn't in character for me to make threats. Well, she had another surprise coming. 

"Just something else to keep in mind. There are another set of papers in my lawyer's hands ready to be delivered if necessary. They revolve around marital interference, sexual harassment, and violation of the Empire Insurance employee contract. If you force me to, I will have those papers served on Mr. Peter J. Ambleton and his boss. I would expect the fallout to be that both you and lover-boy would be unemployed rather rapidly. Do I make myself clear?"

She sat, looking completely stunned at my threat. I don't think she could have imagined our meeting would go this badly. She had still said nothing, so I rose and walked to the front door, turned, and said, "Goodbye, Sylvia." 

A moment later I was walking down the front stairs toward my car. My impromptu threat was a complete bluff of course. I had no such papers drawn up, nor had I even discussed the matter with Carmen. But if it planted the seeds of doubt in their minds, it would accomplish my objective: a pain-free divorce with a reasonable settlement.

I called Carmen and left a message, asking her to call me on my cell. I would inform her of my one-way conversation with Sylvia and my bluff. That should cover things until I was back in town. I wondered as I drove back to my apartment if I had hurt Tommy's chances of any reconciliation with his mother. I also wondered if I would be able to explain it to him. I hadn't held anything back from him to this point, so I saw no reason not to tell him what had transpired.

I made the round trip to Denver, getting back home just before eight that night. The problem had been solved and the customer satisfied with my quick response. I had earned nothing but good will so far, but the money should start coming in pretty soon. It had better. I was getting close to the limit on my credit card.

I had the weekend off and did very little other than go skating on Sunday afternoon. Teresa was there, so we skated together while we filled each other in on the past two weeks' activities. It was a pleasant way to spend a weekend afternoon. I would be back on the road the next morning.

The trucker had confirmed that the Viking machine would be delivered to Autowash first thing Monday morning and I phoned John to let him know. I asked him to uncrate it and move it into position before I arrived, probably on Tuesday afternoon. I think he was shaking his head at how fast things were moving.

I flew to Charlotte and met with the production manager of Winston Candy during the morning coffee break. He gave me a rundown of the problems he'd been experiencing as well as the frustrations of dealing with the Swiss-based installation crew. I told him what I had planned and he nodded in agreement that it was a good way to start. We would call a meeting of the Swiss crew just after lunch to see if we could begin to repair the bridges between the two groups.

My plan was simple, but required a bit of luck. I was hoping there was at least one guy on the installation team who spoke decent English. I would make him the liaison man. Then, I would recommend we break both groups up into three teams; one for the infeed section, one for the package forming and vacuum, and one for the final sealing and labeling. That would produce three teams of four men, each with two from the Swiss group and two from Winston.

Sometimes it's better to be lucky than good. I found two of the Swiss had fairly good command of English, so I split them up between the vacuum and sealing teams. I had one guy who could manage some English on the front end, and that's where I thought we could make the most progress quickly. It was simpler and once that was running well, we could move our attention to the more complex forming and vacuum section.

I explained to both groups that I wasn't able to stay any longer than the one day, but I would be back when the new manuals arrived. They were expected sometime late this week. That's when I found out there was another factor to consider. The Swiss team would be returning to Basel on the coming weekend for the Christmas through New Years break. They didn't plan to return until January 4th. On top of that, they had another installation in Toronto that would begin approximately the week of January 11th, assuming the machine arrived in good condition and cleared customs.

There was no point in crying over it. I was going to have to figure my way around it. I spent the afternoon watching the new "teams" begin to work together. I went from area to area on the long machine, trying to see what the obstacles were. The speed of the machine was always going to be limited by whatever choke point was first in line, so the logical method was to work from the infeed to the output in a stepwise fashion.

I didn't really expect a miracle with the new approach, but I have to admit I was pleasantly surprised at how much they accomplished in a few hours. The confusion of having too many people all trying to solve the same problem was eliminated. Everyone had their segment to work on, and it made communication much better. I was becoming a coach, not a service technician. There wasn't anything wrong with the machine. I was a beautifully built piece of engineering, and had to be treated as such. As I said to the Winston group right in the beginning, this was a Mercedes Benz, not a Chevrolet. Treat it like one.

I went upstairs just before five that afternoon to seek out Byron Mulliner. I wanted him to know I was here and what we had accomplished. I was feeling more confident now that when I walked in the door that morning. I could see progress, but more importantly, so could the guys on the machine.




Tipping Point Ch. 05



"You don't mess around, do you," Mulliner chuckled.

"No time," I said with a smile. "Christmas is coming and your visitors are heading back to Europe. I've got to get as much out of them as I can before they go. Then, I'll work with your guys to get this unit up to speed. It's just a matter of going through the process step-by-step. I don't see anything that we can't solve if we can motivate your people properly. They need to take possession of this project, not stand back and wait for the Helmvac guys to do everything."

"Do you think you can do that?"

"I think we made a good start today by breaking them up into teams. Less confusion and better communication. I can help them with the technical problems, but they'll have to step up when it goes on line. I'll be looking for a couple of team leaders. Guys who want to make the system run and run well. I already have my eye on a couple of your people, so I'm more confident now that I was this morning."

Mulliner nodded. "Looks like I got some good advice when I was told to get you involved. When are you coming back?"

"With any luck, Friday morning. I've got an installation in Texas and a minor repair job in the same area. Are you running over the weekend?"

"No. We're on two shifts right now, but the installation crew from Helmvac will only work days."

"Okay. Leave it with me. If I can get your people to work a bit of overtime, can I have your permission to do so?"

"Yes, within reason. Saturdays and Sundays are very expensive."

"Understood. I'll keep your plant manager informed."

When I walked out of the plant that evening I was feeling pretty good. In my mind, I had a decent chance to get this machine performing, but the key was going to be to get the operators and maintenance guys onside. When I left, it was going to be up to them to keep it in good condition and running smoothly. That was the challenge.

I caught an early flight to Dallas and arrived at Autowash just before 11am. When I walked onto the floor with John, I was pleased to see the machine in place, bolted to the floor and the wiring well underway. Their people had saved me a lot of sitting around waiting for services to be attached. With any luck, we would have the machine set up and ready to trial tomorrow morning. 

I took a roll of film and began setting up the feed and forming section. Luckily the unit had a number of adjustable forming collars and, with a bit of trial and error, we found a set that would do for the soap tabs. The big challenge would be to set the seal and cut-off for the very short little "bricks." I wouldn't be able to do that until the power was on and we had heat in the jaws. Just the same, it was going far quicker than I expected. Damn! That might cut into my income, I thought with a grin. 

I think John must have seen me smiling, because he wandered over and clapped me on the back. "This is going pretty good, isn't it?"

"Very good. But, I've never seen this thing run, so there could be some surprises tomorrow when we start to make packages. My friend at Viking said they never ran it, so if it's been sitting around for some time, you don't know what to expect. The good news is I don't see any signs of rust or damage or wear. I'm just wondering if it ever ran. That would be a hell of a windfall for you."

John was shaking his head. "You realize that it was only seven working days ago that you told me about this thing, and now we're lookin' at startin' it up. How does a steak dinner sound to you as a thank you?"

"It sounds damn good, John. Let's do it."

By five thirty that afternoon, the wiring had been completed and the motors, servos, and the Allen-Bradley PLC had all been tested. Everything had checked out. Our good luck had continued. I was looking forward to a beer and a nice Texas sized steak, with John for company.

We only encountered one hiccup on Wednesday. Soap manufacturing is dusty, and it's impossible to keep airborne powder from collecting on the machine surfaces. We had to eliminate any conventional oil or grease lubrication and replace it with ones that were commonly used in dusty environments. 

By three o'clock we had the machine up and running on John's existing web, and it was producing within ten percent of its rated capacity. Nobody looked happier than John, except for maybe the operators when they got to ramrod their new machine. John offered me another dinner, but I declined. I was going to head over to Fort Worth and get an early start at Shur-Pak Frozen Foods. 

I didn't expect any major problems there. It was almost always the same thing. A cold plant with lots of moisture can play havoc with the electrical components, usually through corrosion. I knew what to expect and where to look just by the maintenance foreman's description.

I had a light meal in the hotel restaurant and flopped on my bed, supposedly to watch TV. I woke up shortly after midnight, used the bathroom, stripped, and fell back into bed. I was tired, but it was a good kind of tired. I was doing what I liked to do and I was doing it well. I didn't have any problem getting back to sleep and felt fully rested when I got up Thursday morning.

I was done just after lunch at Shur-Pak, and headed to the airport for an early afternoon flight to Charlotte. I wondered how many frequent flyer miles I had collected in the last month. I'd get a statement from the various airlines sometime in the future. I wanted to earn enough to get some upgrades, especially on Friday afternoons.

Late Thursday afternoon I was back at Winston Candy and I was pleasantly surprised at the progress that had been made. The new manuals hadn't arrived yet, but were due tomorrow. In the meantime, the teams had sorted out the infeed section and were now working with the Swiss guys on the package forming section just before the filler and vacuum section. 

I liked what I saw. They were working together, and I think they began to see the progress they were making because of it. I didn't want to interrupt them, so I stood by and listened and watched as they went through the steps to each component of the line. As I stood there, Byron Mulliner walked up and stopped beside me. 

"I like what I see, Mr. Copely. That looks a hell of a lot better than a week ago."

"Yeah, it does, doesn't it? I'm relieved. I wasn't at all sure I could make this happen."

"Well, you've eliminated the "us vs. them" mentality, that's for sure. My congratulations and my thanks. I was pretty worried I'd made a very big mistake signing that purchase order."

"It's a fine machine, but it isn't simple. It's a challenge for your people, but I think they're up to it, once they get a little help and some experience."

"Are you here tomorrow?"

"Yes, all day."

Nodded. "Come and see me before you go. I'd like to talk to you about something else."

I agreed and went back to observing the progress by the teams. I wondered what he had in mind, but I would worry about that tomorrow.

Friday dawned bright and cold in Charlotte. I got a quick breakfast, checked out of my hotel, and drove the short distance to the plant. I was on the floor just after the start of the shift and ahead of the Swiss crew. I asked one of the operators to start the line up and he looked at me like I was kidding. I wasn't.

"Go ahead. Run your checklist and start it up. You're going to have to do it when our friends from Switzerland are gone. We might as well "learn by doing."

The young man nodded, but looked very nervous, obviously not wanting to make a mistake. I had asked them to create a checklist for start up so that they wouldn't forget something. Not unlike what a pilot and co-pilot do before a flight. The two men I had thought might be good team leaders went through the list and by the time the Swiss crew finally showed up, the machine was running. I got some surprised, but smiling looks from the visitors. I gave the Winston men a "thumbs-up," and the teams split up to work on their part of the line.

Byron appeared by my side just before coffee break.

"Looks like you're still making progress, Mr. Copely. May I call you Stan?"

"Sure. Yeah, I had your people start up the line this morning before our European friends arrived. They looked pretty pleased with themselves. I think we're on the right road now."

"Great. Can you spare me some time now? I've got coffee in my office along with the usual sticky buns I shouldn't eat."

"Yes ... I'm sure I won't be missed for a few minutes."

I followed him upstairs and down a hallway to the end office. It was obviously a Vice President's office, with very nice dark wood furniture and some traditional paintings on the wall. He motioned me to a comfortable chair around a coffee table, and brought the coffee pot and mugs over with him.

"I've been thinking about something for some time now, Stan. We spend quite a lot of money on service calls by various equipment suppliers. Our three plants spent almost a quarter of a million dollars on everything from packaging machinery, palletizers, stretch wrappers, conveyors, ... and that doesn't include lost production. 

"When I look at all three of our plants, the costs are pretty well equally distributed among them, so I'm fairly confident it isn't a matter of one place not being run as well as another. My maintenance people suggest they're doing everything they can to keep things running, but they don't have the know-how to do all the work themselves.

"My question to you is, can we put together a program to improve the maintenance skills and reduce our service contractor costs?"

I didn't answer him right away. It was a question I hadn't expected and hadn't given a lot of thought to. Just the same, I did have some opinions that I felt willing to share.

"I've always believed my customers could benefit from two things. First, a scheduled maintenance program, with or without outside contractors. And second, more hands-on training of the operators and maintenance people to make sure they can recognize what's happening with their machines. In other words, give them ownership of their equipment."

Mulliner nodded, but remained silent while absorbing what I was suggesting.

"That last thing," he said at length, "giving them ownership. That's what you're doing with the Helmvac, isn't it?"

"Yup. Sooner or later they have to have the confidence that they have power over the machine. Not just the maintenance guys, but the operators as well."

"You don't sound like any service technician I've ever met," he said. "I've been a production and a plant manager in the past, so I know the difference. Do you have any ideas how you would go about this ... that is ... if it was your plant?"

I sat silent for a few moments, wondering where this conversation was going.

"I think I would implement a scheduled maintenance program first. Say, once every three months you would take a key machine down for a day or two's inspection and clean-up. I assume your people write up machine problems either at the time, or when the maintenance people show up?"

He nodded in the affirmative.

"That would give them some idea of what's going on with the machines. Look for a pattern. Look for repeat issues ... that sort of thing."

He was silent for a moment, then pulled out a file folder from his desk drawer.

"I have enough left in the discretionary budget to try something I've been wanting to try. Until you came along, I wasn't sure how to go about it, but ... from what I've seen, you might be the man to make it happen.

"I'm thinking of offering you a contract to service the key equipment in all three plants. It would involve two or three days a month. That would mean each plant would see you four times a year. You could review the equipment, work with our people on any repairs or tune-ups, and do a bit of training.

"It would probably cost me between $70 to $80 thousand a year, but if it cut my service call costs and my lost productivity, it would be cheap at twice the price. Can you see yourself operating a program like that?"

I let my breath out. This was something I hadn't even thought of, but, on the face of it, it made sense. The income would be at least as much as my service call fees and more than cover my travel expenses. The question was, would it work?

"Sir, I think it's possible ... certainly from my end. But I would suggest we give it a one year trial and measure the difference about this time next year. You can cancel the contract at any time with thirty days notice. If it doesn't work, I don't want it to poison the relationship with Winston Candy. Is that agreeable?"

"Yes. That's more than fair. I have a feeling I might have made a very good decision just now," he smiled. "And by the way, Stan, please call me Byron. It looks like we may be seeing more of each other along the way."

And that was it ... my first term contract. A year to prove I knew what I was talking about. This time I would be able to schedule my trips in advance, unless an emergency arose. I had a feeling that with the implementation of the program, I'd be getting far fewer emergency calls. We might just gain the upper hand over the "knob twiddlers" too. 

It was a pleasant flight home that evening. I was no longer wondering if I could make this new career work. It already was. On top of that, I could see some side benefits that would expand my role. Machine finding and trading, as well as training. I had a feeling that each of these things by themselves weren't enough, but collectively, would make Copely Services a winner.

*

My thanks to ErikThread and DaveT for their editing and technical skills. Any errors are mine.



Tipping Point Ch. 06



Chapter 6: Success in Charlotte

Byron Mulliner had my card and knew where to find me. Bright and early Monday morning, I had an e-mail with a PDF attachment of a draft contract, spelling out the duties, rates for service, and options for both parties. I looked it over carefully and didn't see anything that looked different from what we had discussed. I printed it out, signed it, scanned the signed copy, and sent it back to the vice president that same morning, with a copy of Carmen. 

I called the Charlotte plant later that morning to get a progress report. I wasn't planning to return for a day or so. I needed to talk to Carmen and get my personal life in order. As each day went by, I was getting busier and busier, so I'd better get this looked after while I still could.

The production manager was in a good mood when I called. His people had again started the line up, and it was running better each day that they spent de-bugging it. Even with the Swiss team back in Basel, they were getting closer and closer to the fine-tuning stage, and the rated output of the machine. I told him I planned to come down on Wednesday if that was alright with him. 

"Well, I wondered if I'd ever get to say this, Stan, but ... no rush. Wednesday or even Thursday should be fine. I have a feeling we're getting close to making this line fully operational."

"So ... you're single, huh?" I laughed.

"No ... what do you mean?"

"Thursday is Christmas Eve day. I'm pretty sure you get a half day off and don't come back until Monday."

"Oh, shit! I didn't even think of that. I've been so wrapped up in getting this damned thing going I'd almost forgotten about Christmas. Why don't you call me tomorrow afternoon? I should have a pretty good handle on how we are doing then. If it isn't urgent, don't worry about it until the following week. You've been a big help, so now it's up to us to practice what you've been preachin'."

"Okay, deal! I'll call you tomorrow. Take care, Frank."

Frank Sellers had been pretty negative when I first walked into the plant, but with visible progress, and the pressure from his boss being reduced, he was much more confident now. One thing about him that I really liked; he wasn't afraid to get dirty. He had his nose in the manual and his hands on the machine whenever it was needed. If anyone was going to know the insides of this unit, it would be Frank.

I had phoned Carmen to set up an appointment and she agreed to see me Monday afternoon at two-thirty. 

"You know, Stan, your bluff about the suit for damages against Peter Ambleton and Empire was just that ... a bluff. We have very little chance of making that stick without evidence or corroboration from Sylvia. I doubt you'll get that."

"I figured as much. I really wanted to short-circuit Sylvia if she thought she could contest the divorce or the settlement. Even just having them served would rock their boat. I just want out of the marriage. I don't need revenge."

"Very well. I won't prepare any paperwork unless we think she, or they, will cause problems. As long as Sylvia doesn't know you don't have any evidence, your bluff might work."

"I noticed your mother wasn't in this afternoon. Is she all right?"

"Yes, she's got a dinner date this evening, so she went to get her hair done."

"Oh." I couldn't help feel a sense of disappointment. Teresa was a very fine lady, but it sounded like I maybe a little late trying to get to know her better. I looked at Carmen and I could see a small smile. I think she could read my thoughts.

"You better ask her if you want a date, Stan. That's usually the way it works," she chuckled.

"Yeah. I know. It's just that ... well ... I wasn't in any position to ask her until I made a decision about Sylvia. Even now, it doesn't feel right about dating until the divorce is final."

"Tell her that, not me." I think Carmen was having a bit of fun teasing me.

"You think she might go out with me?"

"I wouldn't be surprised. You're a nice guy, good looking, and a businessman to boot. Those are pretty good credentials. I think Mom would probably say yes to a date."

"Uh ... okay ... thanks. I'll call her. Thanks, Carmen."

That was the second time a woman had called me handsome. I was having a hard time with that. I never for a moment thought of me that way. Maybe I was underestimating myself. Besides, I wasn't just the Maytag repairman any more. I was a businessman, just like Carmen said. 

Tuesday afternoon I called the Charlotte plant and learned that they had continued to make small, incremental progress. The Winston crew were now starting up and shutting down the line on their own, and the Swiss Helmvac people were visibly happier. Their productivity had continued to climb, and the number of "leakers" coming off the vacuum section was dropping steadily. I had the Winston crew log every "leaker" with a time and date so that we could see just what was happening in that most critical part of the line. Frank and I decided I wasn't needed until the following week, and then really just to assess how much further progress was needed. I knew the output for the machine was expected to be 100 units per minute, so it would be easy to see where they were. I knew they were now well past the seventy five mark, but they still had to reduce the failed vacuum package count further.

When looked at my schedule, I had the rest of the week off, not including catching up on paperwork. I had done my Christmas shopping for Tommy, Frank, Jilly, and the Foresters. I had also mailed all my Christmas cards to my contacts at each of my current and former customers. 

I also remembered I had bought a present for Sylvia before our marriage blew apart. I wondered whether I would give it to her or not. I couldn't make up my mind. I didn't want to be mean spirited, especially at Christmas, but I was still angry at her for her deception. I was convinced she had been seeing Peter Ambleton, and I wasn't in a very forgiving mood as a result. I knew Tommy had bought her a present despite the upset he was feeling toward his mother.

When I opened my mail on Wednesday morning I got a very pleasant surprise. My first check, and it was from John Mankowitz in Plano. There was a short note attached to it thanking me again for the quick service and finding the new machine. He wished me a Merry Christmas, saying he knew that starting up a new business was stressful, so he was paying the invoice fifteen days early. That was as nice a Christmas present as I could have hoped for. 

I made a color copy of the check and would look for a frame to hang it on my wall. There was the usual collection of Christmas cards, until I got to one postmarked Kansas City. I was pretty sure I knew who it was from, and I was right. Sue Palotti sent me a card with a separate note as well. It said she would call me on Christmas Eve, so if I was going to be out, I should call her. She gave me her home number. I decided right then that I would be the one calling her.

The last surprise I got in the mail was a letter from Byron Mulliner. It had been written last weekend, and he stated he was very pleased that he had chosen me to work with his people on the Helmvac installation. He went on to wish me the very best in my new business, and he hoped that I would have a very good Christmas and prosperous New Year. He was taking some time off until early January and would look forward to seeing me then. 

Attached to the letter was a Winston Candy check for ten thousand dollars. I couldn't believe my eyes. On the tear-off part of the check, it was listed as "Retainer for service contract." I didn't know there was any such thing as a retainer. I just assumed I would bill him in the normal fashion. I thought I'd better at least acknowledge receiving the letter and thank him for the payment, even if I didn't understand what it was about. I picked up the phone and called the Charlotte switchboard immediately. The young lady with the very southern accent informed me that Mr. Mulliner was off on vacation and wouldn't be back until January 4th. Would I like to leave a message?

Yes! I left a very short message thanking him for his confidence in me and for the unexpected payment. I asked for an appointment to meet with him when it was convenient so that we could discuss the sign-off on the Helmvac, and how he would like me to bill Winston for my service contract. It was one of those details we hadn't discussed.

The two checks would dramatically improve my bank account and allow me to clear off my credit card debt, still leaving some left over. More checks would come in over the next month, but for now, I was solvent again. I had used up just about all my ready cash with the travel over the past month. I had to hope that my customers would pay their invoices on the thirty day terms I offered. So far I hadn't needed to dip into my savings or borrow to cover costs.

I sat back in my office chair and closed my eyes. I had been in business for almost a month now, and I was still amazed at how quickly it had all come together. I was feeling pretty good about myself and my circumstances, other than the ugly business with Sylvia. I wasn't going to let that ruin my holiday. 

I decided not to wait until Christmas Eve to call Sue. Wednesday evening, when I was sure she was likely to be home, I called her home number.

"Hi, Sue, it's Stan."

"Oh, Stan, Hi! I was going to call you tomorrow. Didn't you get my card yet?"

"Yeah. It was very nice and thank you. I just wanted to wish you a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year."

"Thank you, Stan. It's good to hear your voice. I'm really looking forward to next year when I'll be seeing you more often."

"Oh ... uhhm ... so you know about the contract then?"

"Of course I do. Who do you think recommended you to the big boss?"

"You did? Wow ... thanks. I can't tell you how good it made me feel to get an opportunity to work with your company. Mr. Mulliner was terrific to take a chance on me."

"You mean Byron? He's a pussycat. All I had to do was tell him about you and he was on the phone, I hear. Byron used to be the plant manager here when I first started. Now he's a big vice president. They picked the right guy when they made him the boss."

"So ... you've known him for quite a while then?"

"Fifteen years. As long as I've been here."

"Wow, what a lucky break for me."

"No luck involved, Stan. I knew you could help him, one way or another. That machine was driving him crazy until you got hold of it. Now I hear it's purring like a kitten."

"How do you know so much about it?"

"Oh, I have my spies. I hear stories about the guy who walked in and saved the day. Hell, Byron even felt good enough to take a vacation, that's how much it meant to him. I thought Diane was going to divorce him if he didn't take a few days off soon."

"Uh, I gather Diane is Mrs. Mulliner?"

"Yeah. We talk. She used to work here too. That's where Byron met her. So now you know my secret," she laughed.

"Well, I don't know what else to say but thank you, Sue. I feel on top of the world right now, and you've had a lot to do with that."

"My pleasure. Now, tell me about yourself. I haven't seen you for three weeks. What's going on besides Winston Candy?"

"Oh, I've been busy. I've been in Plano, Fort Worth, Denver, Charlotte. I have four new customers, and I think I'm going to be okay in this new business."

"I don't mean to be too personal, Stan, but what about your marriage?"

"It's over, Sue. I've filed for divorce. I'm pretty sure she was cheating on me with her boss. I just decided that I didn't want to go through again what I've been going through for the last three years. I'm not happy about it, but I think a clean break is the right thing."

"I'm sorry, Stan. But ... on the other hand ... maybe that leaves the door open for me." Sue didn't sound like she was being a smart-aleck.

"Time will tell, Sue. But, it's six hundred miles from here to there. I'm not sure how to handle long distance romances." "Oh ... so it's a romance now, is it?"

"Aw, come on Sue, you know what I mean." I was embarrassed that I had used that word when we hadn't done any more than kiss a couple of times.

"Relax, Stan. No pressure. Let's just take it as it comes."

"Yeah. Well, I'm not anxious to jump into a new relationship just yet, Sue. I've the business to get going, and I'm not comfortable with a personal relationship until I'm divorced. That doesn't mean I'm not interested, just that it's too soon."

"I understand. I can be patient. After all, I've been waiting for Mr. Right for nearly twenty years, so I guess I can wait a little longer." 

"What makes you think I'm Mr. Right?" I asked with a chuckle.

"Oh, you're him. Women know. Just like Diane knew Byron was the one, I know you're my guy if you'll have me."

"You're pretty confident about that."

"No ... not really. I'm just hopin' I'm right," she confessed in a more subdued tone.

It was time to change the topic and not long afterwards we signed off, knowing we would be seeing each other sometime early in the New Year. As I hung up, I was surprised at just how direct Sue had been about her feelings. She made no bones about being interested in me. I had picked that vibe up on my last visit, and maybe even before that, but I couldn't be sure. She left no doubt this time.

Tommy and Jilly were going over to see Sylvia on Christmas Eve. I suspected that she would be alone this Christmas, but there was nothing I was willing to do to change that. At the last minute, I gave Tommy the gift I had bought for her. I'm not sure why, except maybe I didn't want to be petty toward someone I had spent more than half my life with. As upset with her as I was, I felt I could at least do something nice for her at this time of the year. I guessed it was going to be a pretty lonely time for her.

We had a nice Christmas morning at the Foresters. The gift exchange wasn't lavish, but I think everyone felt each choice was thoughtful and appreciated. The main meal was served at four o'clock, and as with Thanksgiving, Dick, Tommy, and I looked after cleaning up the pots and pans and anything that couldn't go into the dishwasher. It was a quiet evening afterward, and Tommy and I headed home just after ten o'clock. 

When we arrived home there was a message on the answering machine. It was Sylvia, thanking me for the gift, telling me it was a total surprise, but a nice one. I felt better about my decision then. Both of us headed for bed and again I slept soundly, as I had been doing over the past three weeks.

Saturday was a lazy day for me. Tommy had gone back to the Foresters to be with Jilly, while I lounged around watching a couple of meaningless college bowl games on TV. I wouldn't watch the equally meaningless Cincinnati vs. Kansas City game on Sunday. I was sure it would be terrible, and besides, I was going skating, hopefully with Teresa. 

I got my wish. Teresa was already out on the ice when I arrived at the rink, and I quickly joined her.

"Merry Christmas, Teresa."

"Oh, Hi Stan. Merry Christmas to you too."

"You got here early today."

"Yes. I wanted to get a head start on working off all the extra pounds I've put on this holiday season."

"Humph, you're the first woman I've ever know with invisible pounds," I wisecracked.

"Very funny. They may not show yet, but if I don't get after it, they will soon enough. It's a perpetual maintenance job, I'm afraid."

"I know what you mean. I'm just lucky my metabolism keeps me from ballooning up. Either that or the bad food I make for myself. There's nothing about being on the road that's conducive to good health."

"Do you think the day will come when you don't have to be traveling all the time?" 

"Yes, sooner or later. Right now, the excitement of getting my business going is helping me with my attitude and energy. I'm really hoping I can bring in a couple of people to help me sometime in the future. Maybe train a young person or two for field work. That's how I got started."

"I can see where that would put a strain on a marriage," she said thoughtfully.

"Yeah. That's been going through my mind as I've wondered about Sylvia. Too much time alone, even though I was there on weekends and early on, many weeknights too."

"I would find it difficult, I know," she said, not looking at me. Was that a message? It sounded like one.

"So far, my new job has been as demanding. I'll get a better idea of what to expect by March, I suppose." I hoped that would at least give her some indication I wasn't perpetually traveling.

We skated until the break, talking about the Christmas holiday and family. Teresa knew about my close relationship with my son's girlfriend's family. She thought that was a very good situation for Tommy and me.

We took a break when they re-surfaced the ice at three o'clock, and I used the time to ask Teresa an important question.

"Teresa, I was wondering ... when my divorce is final ... if I asked you for a date ... would you go out with me?"

She looked at me and smiled slightly. "Probably. I take it you want to wait so that it doesn't seem improper that you are dating before it's official?"

"Yeah ... I guess so. I mean, I'm not going to change my mind about the divorce, but I didn't feel right about going out on dates right away."

"Well, you've got ninety days to wait if your wife doesn't contest the action. I should tell you that I do date now and then, so, yes, I'd go out on a date with you."

"Great. That gives me lots of time to think of something special for us," I grinned.

"And I'll look forward to it. In the meantime, we can still skate together on Sundays," she said happily.

Driving home that afternoon I was once again feeling very good about how my "new" life was going. I even had a couple of prospective girlfriends; two very different women to be sure.

Monday morning I called Frank Sellers in Charlotte and got an update. They had started up the line without problem, but the leakers were still bugging them.

"Stan, one of my guys went back and looked at the production records since we began. It doesn't seem to make any difference which product we pack, light or dark chocolate, sweet, semi-sweet, unsweetened. All the leak rates seem to be about the same. What does that tell us?"

"I'm not sure, other than it doesn't relate to a specific product." I thought for a moment or two before continuing, "I'll catch a plane and be down there this afternoon or tomorrow morning. We need to get to the bottom of this. Your guys are making good progress on the bottlenecks, so let's concentrate on solving this problem."

After we hung up, I made my travel arrangements and packed a bag for a couple of night's stay. While I waited for my plane in the airport lounge, I studied my copy of the revised manual for any hint on what could be causing the problem. First things first, I needed to know where the leaks were occurring. I suspected it was at the top seal, but I wasn't sure. It would bug me until knew the answers.

As I drove to the plant, I stopped at a mall pet store and purchased a cheap, glass aquarium tank. Since the leaks were occurring slowly and over a period of hours, I could put several failed packages in a water-filled tank at one time, weight them down, and watch for bubbles that would indicate a leaker. It was a long shot since the leak holes would be very small, but I couldn't think of anything else to do that would locate the problem.

In the meantime, my flight was called and I boarded the hour and thirty minute ride to North Carolina's largest city. It was no longer a city of the "old South," it was the "new South," a dynamic metropolis that was prosperous and growing rapidly. 

The aquarium test failed miserably. The leaks were so small that there was no way to accurately assess where they were occurring. In the meantime, I had decided to concentrate on the top seal, the most likely place to look for problems. 




Tipping Point Ch. 06



I had purchased a small, used video camera with very high frame rate a couple of years earlier. I used it to slow down and examine high speed machines to see what was happening that the human eye couldn't detect. I didn't use it often, but it was invaluable when I needed it. 

I hooked it up to my laptop and then jury-rigged a high-wattage halogen lamp above the filler section and began to record the action as the machine ran. I let it go for two minutes before shutting it off, taking the mini-disc out, and loading it into my laptop. I slowed the action down and called Frank and the two lead hands over to see if one of us could see what might be causing the leaks.

We watched it carefully for several minutes before one of the Helmvac team leaders spotted something. He noticed that the flow of the product was not uniform, and it was moving around as it dropped into the pre-formed package. We couldn't see it with the naked eye, but the camera could. We finally had a lead.

We spent the rest of the day taking the infeed chamber section apart and looking for irregularities. It took a while, but again, the Helmvac man spotted it. One of the twenty four collars showed one side of the chamber was bowed slightly inward. It was subtle and you wouldn't think it would have made a difference but, with the product we were packaging, it may have. We removed the sleeve and examined it carefully. If we could straighten the sidewall without damaging the precise fit, we might effect a fix without having to order a part from Basel. Under the supervision of the Helmvac man, the maintenance supervisor took the piece to his shop and they worked for several minutes to find a way to fix the bow. In the end, they gently tapped the side out with a hammer on a flat bar. The two men showed great patience and it took time, but they finally got it straightened. 

The rest of the day was spent re-installing the corrected piece and shutting down the line for the night. The next morning, the crew started it up and ran throughout the day. We would know if we had made progress by the next morning. Wednesday morning, there was a significant drop in leakers. In fact, it was now in a manageable range of 0.3%. Three out of every thousand packages was big progress and close to the target set for the sign-off on the line.

I spent the rest of the day with the team leaders, Frank Sellers, and the two main Helmvac men. We reviewed the current performance of the machine and the targets for the "hand-over." Frank agreed that his people could now take responsibility for the machine. There was still progress to be made, but it was incremental and they now had a process in place to work on fine tuning while they ran.

I shook hands with the Swiss team and wished them luck in Toronto. I had the number of the plant they would be in, and if anything cropped up that the Winston crew couldn't handle, we could call them. I felt there was a pretty good attitude now with both groups as they had battled through the problems together.

I walked upstairs to the main reception and ask the young lady if Byron was in today.

She called his local, spoke to him briefly and turned to me. "He'll be right out."

I saw him walking briskly down the hallway with a big smile on his face.

"Hi, Stan. I hope you had a great Christmas. I know I did."

"Yeah, I did. I know you took some time off. I did too. I'm glad I did."

"Come on down to the office and we can talk."

Byron served coffee and we sat around the coffee table once more.

"Your people are ready to sign-off on the Helmvac, Byron. I think they're in good shape to take it the rest of the way."

"Yes, I know. Frank couldn't wait to tell me. Congratulations, Stan. I can't tell you how pleased and relieved I am that you got this far this quickly."

"You've got some good people out there, you know. It was just a matter of getting them motivated to make it go. Once we got that in place, the rest was just a matter of time."

"Frank tells me you didn't need any overtime. That's remarkable."

"Or good luck," I grinned. "The trouble with overtime is that you start to lose your concentration at some point, so you don't get as much accomplished as you hope. Fresh minds and a good attitude go a long way in this kind of situation."

We talked for a while, and I thanked him for the "retainer" check. It was a welcome surprise. Byron admitted he guessed I would be a little stretched this early in my business career, so he arbitrarily picked a number to keep the wolf from my door. It reinforced the admiration I had for this man.

"Can I let you in on a confidential matter, Stan? I don't want it to go any further than this room right now, but you'll understand when I tell you."

"Of course."

"Our plant manager in Houston is retiring this spring. I've decided to ask Frank Sellers if he would take the position. He's earned it, even without the success of the new machine. I think I've made a good decision, but ... I'd value your opinion."

"Well, having worked with him for the last couple of weeks, I'm impressed. He was under a lot of pressure when I arrived, but he welcomed the help and didn't fight it as undermining his authority. That's always a good sign. From what I've seen, he'd make a good plant manager."

Byron smiled broadly. "Great. I was hoping you thought that."

"So ... who will you promote to take his place?"

Byron smiled again. "I've got a good candidate in mind. She's well qualified and available. Sue Palotti."

"Wow! I know Sue. She's a terrific person. She'll make a very good production manager. Does she know?"

"No ... and don't you go telling her either. I know you two are friends, but keep it to yourself until she tells you. None of this will take place until April, but I've got to get Frank up to speed in Houston, and Sue will need to catch up here. That's why I wanted to give you a heads-up. I don't want her to get bogged down in the Helmvac. She's going to have plenty to learn without that, so I'm asking you to help train her on that system."

"Sure. It'll be a pleasure. I'm really pleased she's getting a chance to move ahead. She's a great leader and knows how to get the best out of her people. Just one thing though. Kansas City has a lot of women on the production floor. I noticed there aren't very many here. I hope that isn't a problem for her."

"Until I moved here, this was a very old fashioned male domain. I've been trying to integrate more women into the operation, but I can't do it all at once. Sue is a calculated risk. She's got a thick hide and a wicked sense of humor. I'm counting on that to get her over the hump in the early stages."

"If anyone can do it, she can," I said. I wondered just what her reception would be like when she arrived. Byron was right, she was tough when she needed to be, and she could defuse tense situations with her quick wit and charm. I hoped that would be enough.

As I flew home that afternoon, I was wishing I could call Sue and congratulate her. I was very happy for her, and I envied Byron being able to give her the good news. 

*

My thanks to ErikThread and DaveT for their editing and technical skills. Any errors are mine. 



Tipping Point Ch. 07



Chapter 7: Happy New Year

"What are you and Jilly planning for New Years Eve, Tommy?" I asked.

"Oh, we've got a party at the college. We'll be staying with a classmate of hers, so we won't have to drive home. Should be fun. What about you?"

"No plans. Thought I'd stay in and watch some TV. Things have been kind of hectic for me in the last month."

I'd arrived home from Charlotte Wednesday evening, too late for hockey. I still hadn't made it to a single game yet. On the other hand, I had the rest of the week to myself. Business would begin again on Monday. I was enjoying the freedom I felt being in charge of my own affairs. I was now looking positively at my future. Like most of my former colleagues, I wondered why I hadn't done this sooner.

Tommy had left to pick up Jilly for their dinner-dance party and I was alone in the apartment when the phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Stan, it's me, Sylvia." Her voice was soft and tentative. She was the last person I expected to hear from on New Years Eve.

"Hi, Sylvia. How are you?"

"I'm okay, I guess. About as good as could be expected."

That sounded a bit fatalistic, but I wasn't sure where this conversation was supposed to go. 

"Uhhm ... Happy New Year," I stumbled.

"I hope so, Stan. I can't wait for this one to end. That's why I called, actually." She paused and I waited for what was coming next.

"I feel I owe you an explanation for my actions ... my attitude. I know it isn't going to change anything, and I know we aren't going to be together, but ... I just felt I'd like to get it off my chest and start the New Year right."

"Uhhm ... well, I guess I can understand that. But I don't think the telephone is the best way to do that," I said, hoping this wasn't leading where I thought it might go.

"I know, Stan. I would like to see you ... face to face ... one more time. I didn't do a very good job of explaining myself the last time. I guess I was too shocked by the change in you. I should have been more composed than I was, but when you told me about Tommy, and that you knew about Peter, I didn't know what to say. You were pretty angry with me that evening."

"I'm sure you can understand why," I said, attempting to keep any emotion from my voice.

"Yes ... I do understand. That's why I wanted to talk to you one more time ... before ... before it's over."

"Alright, I guess I can do that," I said reluctantly. I couldn't think of any benefit other than to learn just what I had done to bring on her behavior over the last three years. Perhaps that would close the book on our life together once and for all. "When do you want to meet?"

"I'll make myself available anytime. I want to do this for me as well as for you. The sooner the better, I think."

"Well, I know it's New Year's Eve, but if you want to come over this evening, or I can come to the house ... unless you have plans," I said quickly as an afterthought.

"No ... no ... no plans. Tonight is fine. I'll come to your apartment, if that's okay?"

"Sure ... anytime after eight."

She thanked me and we hung up. I wondered what I was going to encounter and also wondered if I could hold my temper better than the last time we met. Perhaps the three weeks between had allowed me to cool off and accept what had happened. I would find out tonight. Strange way to spend a New Year's Eve, I thought.

Sylvia arrived just after eight. As she walked into the apartment, I was reminded of how pretty she looked. I hadn't seen her for three weeks and she obviously took care with her appearance this evening.

"Hi," I said simply as I took her coat. "Have a seat. Can I get you something? A New Years Eve drink?"

"Just a glass of wine, please Stan."

I poured us each a glass and returned to the living room. She took a tentative sip, sighed, and leaned back on the sofa. I waited to let her begin. It was her decision to talk, and I wanted to hear it.

"I want to apologize first, Stan. I know I've been hard ... no ... make that impossible to live with in the past while. I want you to know that it was nothing that you did to make me that way."

She paused, and I leaned back in my chair, awaiting whatever came next.

"You know that I was excited when I got my first promotion at Empire Life. It was the first time that I thought that it wasn't just a job and that I might have a career and be successful. I suddenly realized I wanted to be successful. I wanted to move up in the organization. I wanted to be 'somebody.' That started my changing the way I looked at my life, my marriage, and my future.

"When I found I was now reporting to Peter Ambleton, I was happy. He was a dynamic person in our office, and apparently going places in the company. I decided I wanted to follow in his footsteps. He made several comments about my potential, and the opportunities for me along the way. I ate them up. He was telling me exactly what I wanted to hear. I knew about his reputation, even then. He was a womanizer, someone who used women, discarded them when he was finished with them, and moved on. I didn't have any illusions about what he wanted, I just thought I could use him just the way he wanted to use me."

I could see the direction this conversation was heading. In a way, it was fascinating. The timing began to make sense in terms of the change in her behavior. 

"In the meantime, I was starting to think of myself as more significant than you. I was a management person in a big company, and you were a traveling mechanic. I began to think I was passing you in importance, earning just as much as you were even though I'd only been working for a couple of years. I know that was unfair, but I was thinking that you would never be anything more than what you were, while I might end up being an executive. I guess I started to look for faults in you that explained why you accepted that role."

I had an impulse to say something, but I didn't. She was right. I had accepted my role. I hadn't fought for or sought anything more. I had gone along with whatever my boss had chosen to give me without saying or doing anything to protest.

"When the cutbacks and austerity program came along at F & C, I was frustrated that you didn't fight it, or find something else. But ... I knew I was afraid what might happen if you quit. You were supporting both of us. I wasn't contributing anything to the household. I was keeping it all to myself. I thought I had earned it, and I wanted it to prove I was a 'somebody'.

"When I learned that Peter was in line for the branch manager's position, I went to him and asked him what I had to do to earn his former position as claims manager. He made it pretty plain that he wanted me to succeed, but I would need to spend some time with him to learn and earn the job. I'm not a complete fool, Stan. I could guess what he wanted. I'm ashamed to say that after thinking it over for a while, I knew I would do whatever was necessary to get that job."

There it was; the confession. Now I knew what had derailed our marriage. Ambition! I had never realized that Sylvia had such a burning desire to succeed. It wasn't something she talked about or expressed to me. She kept it to herself. But there were still some unanswered questions.

"I don't mean to interrupt, Sylvia, but what caused you to be so ... unhappy and negative around Tommy and me? What did we do to provoke that?"

"Nothing, Stan. Nothing at all. It was all in my head. When you started traveling so much more and Tommy was away at college, I was coming home to an empty house more often than not. I was frustrated and angry with myself. I had what I wanted, and yet, it wasn't enough. I bought that car because I wanted to show everyone that I was 'somebody'. I had a big job and could drive a nice car. 

"When I came home to you and Tommy, you were part of my past. The part when I was just a housewife; no one special. Neither of you treated me any differently when I went to work. I know it doesn't make sense, but I resented you and Tommy. You were holding me back, keeping me from the recognition I deserved. I was just a wife and a mother to you both."

I was having trouble digesting this all. She was telling me that she thought I had been keeping her from her ambitions, and that I didn't measure up to her new standards. I guess that explained the contempt that she regularly displayed.

"I know I tried to talk to you about your attitude toward us, Sylvia, but I could never get you to open up and tell me," I said, shaking my head.

"Yes ... yes you did. I couldn't tell you the truth, could I? I was selfish; thinking only about myself. I know you were unhappy and I was being a bitch. I almost wanted you to explode and put an end to it ... but you never did. You just accepted me and turned away from me. That was just another frustration. I couldn't provoke you, even when I tried."

I nodded my agreement. She was right. I had just accepted her refusal to discuss her miserable behavior. I didn't fight back and I didn't force her to give me a proper explanation.

"I can maybe understand why you treated me that way ... but ... why Tommy? What did he do to cause you to behave the way you did?"

"Nothing. Tommy was an innocent bystander. He was in the same house at the same time. I just didn't separate the two of you. I thought he was more like you in personality, and I suppose I lumped the two of you together."

"All this is very interesting, Sylvia, but I guess I wanted to know why you gave up on me ... on us? Why did you have an affair with Peter Ambleton?"

"I'm ashamed to say that I used Peter as much as he used me. The first time I had ... sex ... with him, it was after he told me I would be promoted to claims manager. In my twisted mind, I thought I owed him. I knew what kind of a man he was, but ... I thought I owed him. After that, I found I was excited by the act. I was doing something I never thought I would do. I was cheating, but I was doing it to get ahead at Empire. At least, that's what I told myself."

I wondered why I didn't feel anger at this point. She had just admitted that she had betrayed me and had done it deliberately. She was hanging her head with her confession, but there were no tears.

"I guess it doesn't really matter, but ... how often did you see him?"

"After the first time, we got together once a month, when you were on the road. Then, I quit seeing him for a while. I didn't like what I had become and I was taking it out on you and Tommy and some of the people in the office. I went for about a year without letting Peter have me, but I guess he wore me down. You seemed to be away almost every week, and I was lonely and we weren't close any more. This time, I let him seduce me. It didn't have anything to do with Empire or my job. It was just about my selfishness and what I wanted."

"Looking back on it, I wonder if you weren't trying to get caught," I suggested. "You pushed and pushed and finally, that night I came home late and you were still out ... it all boiled over." 

"Yes ... I know. I'm not sure if I wanted to get caught, but I wasn't a very happy person. When you questioned me about what I was doing out that late and where the money was going ... I got defensive. I manufactured that temper tantrum, thinking it would stop you in your tracks. I was wrong.

"No one was more surprised than me when you packed up and left, telling me how fed up you were with my antics. I never imagined I could drive you away. I suddenly realized what had happened. How could you do that to me? It was the selfish me, still in control."

"Yeah ... that was the message all right. Even when you phoned me, I was getting that attitude ... loud and clear."

Sylvia was nodding her agreement. "It took me a while to realize you weren't coming back. I was scared. For the first time, I realized I might be alone. I knew I had no future with Peter. It was only a matter of time before he dumped me and found someone else to use. But you ... I thought you would never leave. I couldn't get my mind to accept that you already had."

"What about Tommy? Don't you think you need to talk to him too? Explain yourself, just the way you did tonight?"

"Yes ... of course. I don't want him to think I don't love him. I do. I love you too, Stan. Don't ever think I don't, despite the way I behaved. I know it's too late, but at least take that with you."

Now there were some tears. Now, for the first time, I sensed my wife had true remorse for her actions. She had accepted that she and I would never reunite. She could only hope to salvage Tommy's love. I stood, picking up our empty wine glasses and headed for the kitchen to refill them. Returning to the living room, I set the glasses down. 

"I'm glad you did this, Sylvia. It must have been very hard for you, but I'm glad you made the effort. At least I can understand some of what was going on during those months when things were so ... difficult in our home. I don't condone it, and I'm not sure I understand it all, but ... you've done the right thing tonight. Perhaps it's ironic that it came on New Years Eve. Out with the old, in with the new ... for both of us."

I picked up my wine glass and held it toward her. "Here's to new beginnings. Happy New Year." We touched glasses and I saw the faintest smile on her face.

There was an awkward silence for a while until I did something that I hadn't expected to do.

"Why don't you stay over tonight, Sylvia? I don't want you to drive if you've had a couple of drinks. I've got some snacks and more wine. We can usher in that new beginning together."

I think it surprised Sylvia even more than it surprised me. "Thank you, Stan. I'd like that ... especially tonight. I feel better now that I've told you the truth ... or at least the truth as I know it."

I nodded my understanding. My overall feeling was one of relief. The ordeal was over. We had made our peace with each other. I had a feeling that we might even be friends some time in the future. More importantly, I could support Tommy in reconnecting with his mother. I suspected Sylvia would be making some New Years resolutions for herself that might change her path forward.

The bed was already made up in Tommy's room, and no, I didn't sleep with my wife that night. She helped me make some snacks, we watched a movie, drank some more wine, and celebrated the New Year with our wine and a brief kiss. We retired to our respective rooms shortly afterward and I fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

The next morning was a bit awkward. Sylvia borrowed Tommy's housecoat and I had an extra toothbrush, so we survived our self-consciousness. It was silly, come to think of it. We had seen each other naked many times, although not recently. On the other hand, I wanted her to be at ease. 

I made some scrambled eggs, toast, and coffee and we had breakfast together for the first time in a very long time. We talked about mundane, day-to-day things. I explained a bit about my new business and what was happening. She seemed happy for me and was pleased to see me break out of the mold I had been trapped in. We didn't touch on the fact that it was my walking out that had been the trigger for my decision to strike out on my own.

Sylvia left after we finished the breakfast dishes. I hugged her and wished her a Happy New Year once more. I could see the beginnings of tears in her eyes, but she was thankful for my letting her explain herself to me last night. She seemed more at ease with herself and around me. There wasn't any going back to where we were. No second thoughts. It was over.

Tommy came home with Jilly that afternoon. Apparently they had a great time at the party and stayed up until the wee hours of the morning, not getting up until noon today. 

"So what exciting thing did you do last night, Dad?" Tommy asked.

"Well, your mother came over about eight o'clock, and we had some wine and cheese and snack food, celebrated the ringing in of the New Year, and then went to bed." I said it all in a very matter-of-fact voice. The look on his face was priceless.

"Holy cow! What happened? I mean ... what happened?" Jilly's face showed the same reaction. It was the last thing they expected me to tell them.

"Your mother called and said she wanted to make a clean breast of things. What had happened and why it had happened. She wanted to apologize to me and you for her behavior and try and explain why it happened."

"And?" Tommy and Jilly said, almost in unison.

"She did. It wasn't pretty and it wasn't pleasant, but I believe she was honest with me. It doesn't change anything except my attitude toward her. I think we can move on with our lives now. She slept in your bed, by the way."

"Oh. That's weird," Tommy said absently. "Not the bed ... I mean ... the confession."

"No ... it was therapy. For both of us. I needed to know and she needed to tell me."

"Was she cheating on you?"

"Do you really need to know?"

"I don't know. Maybe not. It's over now, isn't it?"

"Yeah. It's over. I think she'll want to talk to you, Tommy. I know she wants to apologize to you too. She had a real awakening with our leaving her. I think you'll find her a very different person in the future."

"I'm glad. I couldn't take much more of the way she was. I guess she figured that out when I came to live with you."

"Give her a little room, son. Let her come to you and make things better. She's your mother and she really does love you."

Jilly had tears in her eyes and she came to me and hugged me. She was going to be the daughter we never had, and I was going to be a very happy father when the time came. 

My life continued much the same way that it had in the past month. My client list continued to grow as word got out that I was in business for myself, working on all types of machinery, and available on short notice. It wasn't long before I had to schedule my commitments just as I did when I worked for F & C. Making Copely Services a success was no longer in question.

Sue called me the second week of January and she could hardly contain herself.

"Guess what!" she nearly hollered down the phone line. "I'm being promoted, Stan. I've been given the production manager's job in Charlotte. I can't believe it! Byron called me this morning and wants me to come there to meet the people later this week. I've never been further east than Missouri! This is amazing!"

I was enjoying hearing her enthusiasm and delight at her good fortune. "You've earned it, Sue. Byron wouldn't be putting you in there if he wasn't confident that you could do the job."

"I don't know, Stan. I've never been in that plant. I don't know what to expect. I'm just glad Frank is going to be there for a month to show me the ropes."

"Yeah, he'll have his work cut out for him in Houston."

There was silence on the other end for a moment. "You knew! You knew this was going to happen, didn't you?"

"I did. I was told I couldn't talk to you about it, but ... yeah ... I knew."

"When?"

"Just after Christmas, when I was wrapping up the Helmvac project."

"And you didn't say a word to anyone?"

"Not a soul. Byron had to get some things in place first, but he wanted my opinion on a couple of things."

"He did? Wow, you've come a long way, baby," she said with a chuckle. The element of joy had been replaced with surprise.

"I was thinking that same thing. When I was flying home just before New Years, all I could think about was wanting to tell you about your new job. Actually, I wanted to be there when Byron told you. That would have been fun."

There was silence again. "You mean that, don't you?"

"Of course. We've become good friends. I want my friends to be successful and happy."

"And that's all it is? Good friends?"

I paused for a moment before answering. "Be patient, Sue. There are things that have to happen before I'm ready to get involved again."




Tipping Point Ch. 07



"I know. I know. I'm rushing you again, aren't I?"

"It's alright. I have to be set in my own mind that I'm ready."

"Okay. I told you I could wait. I will. I guess I'm all fired up about the new job. I have to put the house up for sale, call the movers, and find a place in Charlotte. Luckily, Winston is looking after all that. They'll even let me stay in a hotel suite for up to three months while I find a place to live in Charlotte. Do you think that will be hard, Stan?"

"I don't know. My experience has been confined to the plant and the Holiday Inn. I haven't really seen the city yet. When are you scheduled to move?"

"The middle of February. Frank will be in Houston starting this week, and then back for a month when I get there. Then, we're on our own."

"Okay, well, I'll be in Kansas City before you leave, so I'll see you there."

"Remember, you don't need a rental car or a hotel here as long as I'm in town."

"I remember. I guess we'll have to work out how we handle things in Charlotte."

"Don't you worry. We'll figure something out," she laughed.

When I hung up the phone, I realized how much I was looking forward to seeing Sue again. Just hearing how happy she was made me feel great. I realized I hadn't told her about my conversation with Sylvia. I reminded myself to do it next time I talked to her. In the meantime, I had agreed that we would be together when I next saw her. That would be a big step for me. The question only remained; just how together?

I finally got to a hockey game with Terry Rhinesdorf's gang on Wednesday night. It didn't take me long to figure out just how out-of-shape I was. A two minute shift felt like two hours. Luckily, being on defense I could get a few seconds of rest when we were in the attacking zone. I hadn't forgotten how to skate, and in time, the lessons I learned about playing the position came back to me. Other than my physical conditioning, I wasn't at all out of place on the team. I even managed to have some fun between gasps for breath.

Sylvia had that talk with Tommy a few days after ours, and I was happy that she made the effort. I didn't ask what she told him, but I could see he was a lot more settled about his mother than before, and I was grateful to her for making the effort. I felt they would probably be okay with each other in the future. It would be important to both him and Jilly.

Tommy had also started his night classes at Southern Ohio Technical. Right from the start, he knew he had made a good decision. The result was that I spent most of my nights alone whether I was home or on the road. On the weekends, he spent most of his time with Jilly, even when they were studying. I couldn't blame him, but I needed something to keep me occupied.

I cruised the Internet, and almost by accident I found a course on running your own business. It was produced by a respected university publishing company, and I decided to sign up for the online service. When I thought about it, I really didn't know anything about running a business, and with the income tax season coming up this spring, I had better get my affairs in order. I hadn't received any income other than F & C in the previous year, so that would be straightforward. But this year would be a different story.

The course was interesting, even though there were parts of it that didn't affect me. On the other hand, I quickly realized I didn't have any liability insurance to cover me if things went wrong at a customer. I was starting to see that there was a lot more to running your own business than just finding customers. 

Suddenly, my evenings and spare time were filled with learning just what my responsibilities were to both myself and the various forms of government. The good news was that I could continue my study on the road, thanks to the internet. Whether I was in North Platte, Nebraska, or Albuquerque, New Mexico, I was in touch. It definitely helped fill the evenings alone in my hotel room. 

I called Sue near the end of January and set up an appointment. It would be the first of my scheduled maintenance reviews, as per my contract. We had talked on the phone a couple of times and she convinced me to fly in on Sunday so that we could have some time together before getting down to work. I agreed. I had foregone a couple of Sunday skates with Teresa, but I found I wasn't missing them the way I thought I might. It seemed Sue was on my mind more often these days.

Sue met me at the baggage carousel Sunday afternoon and I got a big, tight hug, and a big, wet kiss as a welcome.

"Hi," she said, her eyes glistening. "Good to see you again. It's been two months. So much has happened."

"Yes ... for both of us. How are you?" I asked. She looked a bit stressed.

"I'm fine. A bit tired, but that's to be expected. I've been so busy trying to get my replacement ready to take over. He's going to be fine ... it's just me worrying," she smiled.

"Well, you'll have lots to keep you busy in Charlotte. What did you think of the plant?"

"Oh, Stan ... I was almost overwhelmed. So much more equipment, and so many more people. I've got so much to learn. I'm a bit scared, to tell the truth."

"Don't worry about the equipment. You've got good people in maintenance, and I've been assigned to bring you along on the Helmvac."

"Yeah ... Byron mentioned that. I was really relieved. Maybe you can sneak in some time for me on the other machines if I get in trouble."

"Of course. Don't go worrying about that just yet. Spend your time with Frank on learning what's needed to manage the production floor. That's what's important. People are much more difficult to control than machines. He's a good role model for that. He has their respect, and that's what you will have to earn."

She nodded. She was still clinging to my arm as my bag slid down the ramp toward me. I felt like she was depending upon me to give her the confidence she needed. I didn't think it was necessary, but I didn't want to underestimate how uncertain she was as she prepared to make this big move. Throw in a new city and new people, and I could understand the stress.

As we walked toward her car, we talked about what had been going on in past weeks. I told Sue about my meeting with Sylvia and how much more at ease I was with our parting. I wasn't feeling guilty, and I wasn't angry any longer. Sue was happy about that. I think it gave her the feeling the way was open for her if we decided that's what we wanted. I wasn't in any doubt that Sue had already made up her mind.

As we drove along I was watching Sue, admiring her voluptuous body unashamedly. What made her attractive, though, was her positive nature. She was an optimist, always trying to see the sunny side of things. I was letting my mind wander back to when we had first met, several years ago, and something immediately came back to me.

"Sue, I forgot all about your daughter. I remember you told me you had a teenage daughter ... or at least ... she was back then. How is she doing? I didn't see her when I stayed at your house last December."

She turned and smiled at me. "I didn't think you remembered Elizabeth. Liz, as she prefers to be called, is now in second year at the Missouri Music Academy in St. Louis. She's going to be a concert pianist someday. In fact, she will be touring Europe with a youth orchestra this summer. I'm having a hard time realizing my little girl is all grown up. She'll be twenty in May."

"Wow! Touring Europe! You must be very proud of her. She's almost the same age as my Tommy."

"She's worked hard to get her scholarship and even harder to earn money for this trip. I've helped her a bit, but she's done most of it herself. I'm excited for her, Stan. She has a great future in front of her."

I could see the pride and happiness when she talked about her daughter. I felt the same way about Tommy. I knew that great feeling your children gave you when they turned into mature young people and rewarded you for all the sacrifice you made in their younger years. 

When I thought of Tommy, I couldn't help but feel Sylvia had a great deal to do with his turning into a fine young man. It made it that much more important that he not lose touch with his mother. She should share in the reward for her efforts.

Sue must have seen the expression on my face. "What are you thinking about?"

I hesitated before I answered, "Just thinking how Sylvia had contributed to the way Tommy turned out. As upset as I am with her behavior, she was a big part of his upbringing."

Sue was smiling again as we drove along. "I think that's what makes you different than so many men, Stan. You don't let your emotions rule you. Considering what you've been through, I'm impressed."

"There's no need to butter me up, Sue. I ain't perfect," I grinned.

"You'll do," she said, casting a glance at me as she turned onto her street. 

It was the first time I'd seen her house in the daylight, and my impression of a neat, tidy, well cared-for property was confirmed. I parked my bags in the same bedroom as last time, but got an odd look from Sue. I hung up my shirts, then returned to the kitchen. Sue had opened two bottles of Michelob and passed me one.

I raised the bottle toward her. "Thanks for the special treatment. You have a lovely home, and you are a very generous hostess."

She smiled and nodded her acceptance of my compliment. She looked a little flushed and I wondered if I might have embarrassed her. I'd never seen that look before. I found I was comparing her to Teresa Croft. They weren't anything alike. Teresa was several inches taller, a slimmer build, and had a certain air about her that I could only describe as elegant. She would have fit right in with the high society crowd.

Sue was much more earthy. There was no sense that she wasn't exactly who she appeared to be; lively, good humored, sexy as hell, energetic, and smart. They were nothing alike other than their individual attractiveness. Which one would I rather be with? Right this moment – Sue. She was creating wayward thoughts as she moved around the kitchen. 

At one moment, I was thinking how much fun it would be to have my hands on those two lovely big breasts that she so proudly displayed. Then again, that bubble butt of hers was another sensational target for my hands. I had an almost irresistible urge to run them over those two very taut, round mounds. I suppressed the thought as I could feel an erection in the making.

I couldn't remember the last time I'd made love to Sylvia. Hell, it wasn't making love ... it was just sex. Me getting my primal urges looked after without much emotion involved. Even then, it was better than nothing, and nothing is what I'd been getting for quite some time. So ... if Sue was willing ... was I ready? The question was ... was Sue willing?

"What's going through that fertile mind of yours, Stan," she said, looking at me carefully. "You have been eyeing me since you got in the car. See something you like?"

Busted! I couldn't fool her, so there wasn't much point in trying. "Yeah. You caught me. I was admiring the scenery. I admit it." I tried to sound contrite.

She flashed a big smile and walked to me, putting her arms around my neck. "So ... I finally got your attention, huh? It's about time. I've been trying every trick I could think of. Looks like one of them finally worked. Which one was it?"

"I don't know what tricks you thought you had to use, but one thing that gets my attention is that sexy body of yours." 

"Oh ... but which part? Boobs I'll bet. That always gets a guy's attention." At that stage she was pushing those big breasts into me with noticeable force.

"Yeah ... they're very ... prominent ... but ... you have a very nice ... backside too," I stumbled, trying not to offend her.

"You like my butt, do you? Well, grab on and enjoy yourself," she smirked, just before kissing me with a very hot, deep kiss featuring a lot of tongue.

When we finally broke, "You're going to ruin my self-control, woman. How am I supposed to behave myself when you do things like that to me?" 

"Just checking to make sure you're paying attention. I told you weeks ago I was going after you, so don't pretend this is all a big surprise."

"I don't plan to fight it ... if that's what you mean."

"Then what are we waiting for?" she asked as she took my hand and pulled me toward the bedroom.

Undressing Sue was a hell of an experience. She was more than just voluptuous. I don't know what the word for it is, but I was unveiling one fabulous part after another. Not only wasn't she shy about my seeing her, she flaunted herself to show me just how sexy she really was. She shook her boobs and wiggled her ass. By the time she was naked, I was stunned, fully erect, and still dressed. I had some catching up to do.

I had some catching up to do in bed as well. I didn't want to rush and I tried to give her as much attention with my tongue and fingers as I thought she could stand. But after a few minutes of oral pleasing, she wanted to get to the main event.

"That's enough, Stan. I'm so wet, I'll drown if you don't put a stop to it. Please, fill me up," she pleaded.

I took it very slowly and was rewarded with her sigh of contentment as I entered her. I wasn't very confident I would last too long, but I would try my best. My best was apparently good enough.

It was dark when we finally gave up trying to please each other any more. I couldn't get it up for a fourth time, and Sue admitted to being a bit sore. Then she suggested we take it easy so that we could go again later. She wasn't that sore.

I hadn't felt this good in many months, and Sue was everything I could want in a lover. It wasn't some contest to see who could outdo the other. It was two like souls meeting in the middle, each trying to satisfy the other.

"That was lovely, Stan. It's just what I imagined making love to you would be like. I'm going to want more of that, you know."

"I was thinking the same thing. We have a lot to learn about each other. I have a feeling there's more to making love to you than what we just did. That was pretty gentle and there was a lot of feeling in it. But, knowing you, I'll bet there's a fun side I haven't discovered yet."

"Oh, yeah. There are times. We'll discover them together. Nothing too wild, though. I don't think that's what either of us wants."

"No ... you're right. But ... I get the feeling we're going to have a lot of fun finding out just what we do enjoy."

A little while later we crawled out of the bed and into the shower. This was more fun for me, washing this very sexy woman. It was almost seven before we got back to the kitchen and started making the supper. Sue had all the makings ready in the fridge. All she had to do was put the ingredients into a pan and cook it. 

She was wearing a t-shirt and tap pants, nothing else. I was tempted to slip my hands underneath the shirt and fondle her breasts, but thought better of it when she was in front of the stove. The last thing I wanted was an accident. Then again, those delightful buns of hers were swaying back and forth as she moved from one counter to another. I couldn't take my eyes off her. She was undoubtedly the sexiest woman I had ever known. 

"Still watching, I see," she said with a smirk.

"I can't help it. Do you have any idea what a glorious booty you possess? It's a good thing you wear a smock at work or you'd be attacked every day."

"I'm very picky about who gets to attack me. You're the first in quite a while."

"I'm honored, Miss Palotti."

She smiled as she moved about the kitchen. I was surprised just how comfortable I was considering I had just made love to a woman while still legally married to another. Was this cheating? I didn't want to deal with that question. It didn't feel like cheating, but ... I wouldn't be telling anyone about this encounter. Besides, it was a private thing between Sue and me. No one else was entitled to know.

I don't know what Sue called that chicken dish she prepared, but it was terrific. I was hungry and there was nothing left on my plate. 

"God, what a combination. A sexy woman who's a great cook. I think I'm in love."

"Don't go throwing the "L" word around too loosely, Stan. I take that very seriously," she said without a hint of humor.

"Uhhm, sorry. I didn't mean to upset you. It was just a way of saying ... uhhm ... it was just a compliment." I was worried that I had upset her. I was going to have to watch what I said if that was the case.

She turned to me when she finished putting the dishes on the counter. She stepped to me and unexpectedly, sat in my lap, her arms around my neck once again.

"When we made love this afternoon, it was everything I ever hoped for. Somehow, I knew it would be that way. You made me feel special ... wanted ... like I was the only one in your world. You can't fake that, Stan. I know. I've waited my whole adult life for you. Now ... I have to hope ... hope like hell ... that you'll fall in love with me."

I didn't expect that confession. How did I feel? Scared? Unprepared? Worried that I might hurt her? Maybe all of those things. I searched for the right words to calm the waters.

"Sue, I'm just getting over what's happened to my marriage. If you'd have asked me a year or two ago, I'd have told you it was a good marriage. Maybe not great, but ... good. Now, I have to face that it's over and I'm on my own. For as long as I have known you, it's been a case of respect and admiration for you. The physical attraction was always put away because I was married. I couldn't allow myself to think of other women, no matter how much I might be attracted to them.

"Now ... I don't have that holding me back. I don't want to be alone. I want someone who will be my lover and partner ... this time for life. Like you, I'm going to be careful. But ... we do have something ... you and me. There is a special feeling there. I think we should try and find out if we are the ones for each other. In a couple of months, I'll be a single man again. I don't regret what we did this afternoon. It was a great beginning for us. I hope you feel the same way."

She pulled me back to her and kissed me once more with one of her soul-searing kisses. It was the answer I was hoping for. 




My thanks to ErikThread and DaveT for their editing and technical skills. Any errors are mine.



Tipping Point Ch. 08



Chapter 8: Growing toward a Question

My business continued to grow over the next three months. Word got out about my contract with Winston Candy and my success with the Helmvac start-up. Soon, I was getting calls from companies I had never heard of, asking for advice on one machine or another. I was wise enough to know that I could get bogged down in learning new equipment if I wasn't careful, so each time I got one of those calls, I requested a manual and a written description of the problems they were encountering, preferably with a package sample demonstrating what was happening.

On more than one occasion, I was able to solve the problem over the telephone, based on the sample and description. It didn't earn me any money, but it did earn me goodwill, and I counted that as future money in the bank. On the others, I tried to evaluate just how complicated the problem might be before I committed myself. After a few of these, I got fairly good at "distance assessment." It wasn't a perfect system, but it did cut down on the running around.

I also found I was spending more and more time on paperwork. The bane of small business was the need to keep good, organized records of everything, and with Jilly's and Teresa's help, I knew what my responsibilities were. All well and good, except for the amount of time this was sucking up. Invoicing, payables, banking, and all the other necessities of keeping myself afloat. By the beginning of April, I knew it was going to wear me out if I didn't do something.

At the suggestion of Teresa, I hired a part-time accountant from a national firm. They would look after my basic needs, keep my books in order, and keep me informed of any delinquent accounts, or problems with payables, and of course, taxes. I had acquired a line of credit at my bank, and it relieved me from having to use a credit card with its outrageous interest rates. When I looked at my financial status at the end of the first quarter of the year, I was very surprised. I had a substantial cash-on-hand balance, and a further nice package of current receivables. My accounting firm pronounced me well on my way to success. 

There was a price to pay for all this activity, however. My social life was almost non-existent. I had seen Sue Palotti only that one time before she moved to Charlotte. I met her at her hotel suite in early March and helped her get acquainted with the plant equipment, particularly the Helmvac. By the time my two day visit was over, I had a feeling of confidence that Sue would be fine in her new job. On the other hand, I didn't know when I would get to see her again. My schedule was filling quickly, and I felt we were rushing to cram in as much sex as we could in the time available.

Carmen Croft called me and asked me to stop by her office the first week of April. My divorce was now final, and she had some paperwork for me, along with a bill I was sure. It gave me a chance to see Teresa again. I felt guilty about suggesting we might date, and then getting involved with Sue. I owed her an explanation at least.

When I finished with Carmen that morning, I asked Teresa if I could speak to her in private. She looked a bit surprised, but agreed.

"Teresa, some time ago I suggested to you that I might want to ask you for a date when my divorce was final." 

She nodded. "I remember."

"I don't know how to put this exactly, but ... I've become involved with a woman that I've known for several years. I didn't expect that, but I felt badly that I might have suggested I was interested in dating you, and then not done anything about it. I'm embarrassed at how this must sound to you."

"Don't be, Stan. You're a nice man and I value your friendship. But ... to be honest, a friendship is all it would probably ever be. I'm not looking for any romantic involvement at this time. I do enjoy having a skating partner on Sunday afternoons, though," she smiled.

I felt a big sense of relief. She wasn't upset and didn't have any hopes for us as a couple. I could date Sue with a clear conscience. 

"Skating ends soon. What will you do then?" I asked.

"I'll go back to my walking. I like to walk the trails in Stanberry Park. You're welcome to join me. I usually go in the morning, before it gets too crowded."

"That sounds great. I'll look forward to it. I've been in that park before, but it's been a few years, now." I was glad we would be able to preserve our friendship. Teresa was a fine woman and very helpful to me as well.

The hockey season was also drawing to a close. I'd been able to make several games and I was in much better shape than my first attempt. It was fun, and I met a bunch of guys who I enjoyed being with as well as playing with. We swapped notes on our jobs and our personal lives. I thought there might be a couple of business contacts there as well.

I had time to think about Sue and our future. I was set in my mind that we would try and make a life together. Whether she would want to marry after being single all these years, I didn't know. She did tell me that Elizabeth was born out of a back-seat encounter with a guy shortly after she finished high school. He was never marriage material, proving it by skipping town at the first available opportunity after promising to provide some child support. The last she had heard from him, he had "gone west," and hadn't been heard from by any of her friends since.

She had raised her daughter with the help of her parents for the first five years, living at home during that time. She saved enough money for a down payment on a small townhouse, then took over full parental responsibility herself. She had a job, and she was determined to make it on her own. The more I learned about her, the more I admired her courage and strength. I didn't have to be told she was a great mother.

As my business grew, I began to think seriously of taking on another person. I was at the point that I could probably afford it, but I wanted to be sure. I almost waited too long. When I finally got around to advertising for someone to train and work on a variety of packaging machinery, it was the end of March. It was only good luck that I found the ideal candidate right in my own back yard.

Dorothy "Dody" Whitmarsh live barely three blocks from my apartment. She was twenty-one years old and a graduate of a mechanical training academy here in town. When I first interviewed her, I was a bit concerned about her. She was a big girl, over six feet tall, and well over two hundred pounds. She wasn't particularly attractive, with what looked to be acne scars on her cheeks and forehead. I felt sorry for her. On the other hand, she was neatly dressed and presented herself well.

My concerns were quickly put aside when I began to talk to her about the job. She was a mechanical "junkie." Since she was a kid, she had been taking things apart and seeing how they worked. If something was broken, her first instinct was to try and repair it. That included her parents' appliances. Along the way she also taught herself a great deal about electrical, hydraulic, and pneumatic systems. Two years at the academy rounded out her education. She had the requisite skills, and was ready to tackle anything ... in her opinion.

I handed her a couple of my manuals for a folding carton machine and a vertical form-fill-and-seal machine. I asked her to take them home, study them, and come back in two days and we would discuss what she had learned. The light in her eyes when I said that could have lit the whole room. She was excited that she might get a chance at this job. I was just hoping she was half as good as she thought she was.

When I got back from my short trip to Indianapolis, she was waiting for me. She had left a post-it note on my apartment door asking me to call her. She was ready for the "test." I laughed. She was definitely enthusiastic. That was a good sign if she could combine it with talent. I called her and she came to my apartment that evening.

"Well, Dody, what did you think of the two manuals? Were you able to understand how the machine worked?"

"I think so. I would have liked to have seen them in action, but I didn't know where to find one to watch, so I had to figure it out myself. The boxboard machine was the easiest. It showed the collapsed carton, how it set up, filled, and closed. I didn't have any trouble following that. 

"The other machine was a little trickier to understand. It was a plastic film machine that took a roll of film and made it into a filled package. When I stopped to think about it, the type of machine told me what was happening: form the film, fill the package, and seal the package. It's a vertical machine, so the film travels from top to bottom. I think I understand it now. I'd like to see one run though. I know I could learn a lot from that."

I liked how she approached the problem of understanding the machines. She was looking for the process. What was happening and when was it happening. I quizzed her on the mechanics of both machines and she was right on top of that part of the system.

"Okay, Dody. If you can give me some time this week, I'll take you in to a couple of my customers, and we'll look at some operating equipment."

"Oh, sure. I can give you all the time you need. Just tell me. I'm working for my Dad right now, so he knows I'm applying for this job. I think you know him. He plays hockey for Kranzen Electric. His name is Doug."

It clicked. I should have recognized the last name. Doug was a big, tall forward on our team. I guess I didn't pay that much attention to last names, but I remember now that he ran the service department at a local Ford dealership.

"What do you do for your Dad?"

"Oh, I'm not allowed to work on the cars. I just wash them, clean up around the bays, look after the recycling, that kind of thing. Not very interesting, but I needed a job to pay for my schooling."

"Well, this is a lot different. If I hire you, you'll get your fill of working on machinery. Some of it, you will have never seen before. Some of it will be so old, it might not have a manual to follow. You'll have to figure it out from what the people on the floor tell you, and what your know-how tells you. That's the fun part of the job," I said with a smile.

"I really want this job, Mr. Copely. I can't think of anything I'd rather do than work on these machines. I'm sure I can do a great job for you."

If enthusiasm was any indication, Dody would make a good employee. It was only left for me to decide if she could do the job. Much of her work would be on her own and in a different city. No one to lean on, then. I had a couple of nearby jobs scheduled this week, so I planned to take her along to see how she made out.

I had talked to Dave Thomas about not treading on his toes when I got inquiries in what had been his "territory." Dave was good about it. All he wanted to know was if it was an existing customer. He had all the business he could handle and didn't want to expand any further. He e-mailed me a list of his customers, and I could see I had plenty of latitude to develop business closer to home without infringing on his territory. 

He hinted that he and his wife had talked about selling the business and retiring to Florida. I didn't think he was that old, but he told me he was fifty-eight, and had enough saved to retire, not counting what the business might be worth. I asked him to let me know when he decided to call it quits. I had no idea if I could afford to buy him out, but at least I would get a chance to look at it.

In the meantime, Dody and I set off in my car for Frankfort, Kentucky, and then to Evansville, Indiana. It wasn't too strenuous a trip, but it would give Dody a good look at a variety of equipment in the two plants. I should be able to evaluate her abilities by the time we got back to Cincinnati.

I didn't need that much time. Almost from the beginning, I could see the native skill of the girl. She understood systems, saw what was happening on the machine, learned from comparing one system to another, then made some deductions. She wasn't bashful or hesitant. Better still, she wasn't often wrong in her assumptions. She had an analytical brain, and it got to the heart of the problem quickly. The truth was, given some experience, she would be better at this job than I am.

I knew I was going to hire her before we left Frankfort, but I didn't say anything to her. We stopped for supper at a restaurant in Louisville, before finding our motel in Evansville. The topic of conversation was all about what she had seen in the Frankfort plant. They had form-fill-and-seal film packaging equipment, as well as folding carton and corrugated case making and packing machines. It was a good mix to give her a sense of what we would be working on, and how different each type of machine was.

In Evansville, I introduced myself and Dody to the plant manager. I hadn't been in this operation before, and I needed to get a feel for what their needs and expectations were. The equipment was straightforward, but I wanted to demonstrate to Dody how I would behave in a new environment where I didn't know anyone, or anything about their business. They had contacted me at the recommendation of one of my long-time clients.

I sat with the plant manager, then with the maintenance manager to get a sense of what was needed. It was pretty clear-cut. They had a fairly good understanding of their equipment, but they were lightly staffed and could get overwhelmed if more than one machine gave them problems. I suggested a scheduled preventative maintenance program, and offered to draw one up for them to review. There would be no cost for the proposal, and they quickly agreed.

Throughout my introduction and discussion with my prospective customer, Dody hadn't said a word other than to introduce herself. But she was paying close attention to what was being said and suggested. This part of my business didn't have anything to do with fixing machines. It was all about getting the client's confidence and making sure I understood what they expected from me.

When we left the plant later that morning, there was an audible "phew" from Dody. I turned to her and asked, "So, what did you think of that meeting?"

"I've learned I've got a lot to learn," she smiled. "Just fixing machines isn't enough, is it? It's about listening to the customer, and finding out what they want. I do have a question, though. What happens if what they want isn't what they need?"

"Ah ... good question. Usually, the customer is always right. But sometimes, it isn't in his best interest, especially if he's going to spend money on something he doesn't need. I'd rather turn down the business than do that to them. It may not be what they want to hear, but it will be the truth as we know it."

"We?" She had a surprised look on her face which only caused me to grin.

"Yeah ... we. You're hired, Dody. I think you're going to be just fine. The only thing I ask is that you don't guess. If you're not sure, don't guess ... ask. I'm only a phone call away. Other than that," I concluded, sticking out my hand, "welcome to Copely Services."

Dody was excited and jam-packed of questions on our trip back to Cincinnati. I might have gotten tired of it, but she was full of enthusiasm and happiness over her new career. I was going to have to break her in slowly to give her more experience. That meant taking her on road trips, and that also meant extra expense. 

At Teresa Croft's suggestion, I caught a break from the state employment office when I learned that there were some tax breaks for small businesses hiring young people who hadn't been in the workforce before. That would help offset some of the training costs. I was happy to have the help, and Dody was anxious to get started.

I called Doug Whitmarsh and told him that I had hired Dody to work with me. He already knew, of course. His daughter was too excited not to tell anyone and everyone. I told him I was impressed with her skills and that I thought she would be a good "partner" in this business. He thanked me for giving her the opportunity. I got the impression he was worried she wouldn't find a job that she really wanted. I had solved that problem.

It took me less than a month to have the confidence to send Dody out on her own. She absorbed information like a sponge ... a big sponge. She handled herself well in front of the customers. Perhaps her size and appearance kept her from being hit on by some of the men in the plants she visited, but I thought it was more likely her "all business" attitude that gave the customers confidence.

John Mankowitz at Autowash in Plano took an immediate liking to her. He gave her a complete plant tour before she started on her assignment. I had accompanied Dody on this trip because John and I were good friends and I didn't want him to think I was abandoning him. He didn't. He knew what I was doing, and he enthusiastically welcomed the young girl.

I wanted Dody to see the Helmvac machine in Charlotte. I had told Sue about her in several of our twice-weekly phone calls. Sue was very happy to hear that my business had expanded to permit hiring another person. We talked about my next visit, scheduled in May, another three weeks away. I think we were both getting frustrated with our off-and-on relationship. I needed to do some thinking about that.

Dody settled into her new job beautifully. We met each Friday afternoon or Saturday morning to set the assignments for the following two weeks, confirming or adjusting our previous week's schedule decisions. It was working well, and I had received only two phone calls from the young woman when she encountered a difficult problem. I couldn't have been more pleased with my choice of associate.

I took her to Charlotte the second week of May. Actually, she met me in Charlotte. I had flown from St. Louis directly to the North Carolina city on Friday evening to stay with Sue. Dody came in Sunday evening and stayed at the hotel I once used. I had explained my relationship with Sue to the young woman and she understood. We spent only a few minutes when I picked her up at the airport discussing our plans, then agreed to meet for breakfast early Monday morning. Sue would go directly to the plant, dropping me off at the hotel on the way.

The introduction of Dody to Sue went well. Sue made her very welcome, and like John in Plano, gave her a comprehensive tour of the facility. I took the opportunity to check in with Byron and we had coffee and a pleasant conversation. He congratulated me on having grown so quickly that I could hire an assistant this soon. I assured him that I was as surprised as anyone, but I was very happy with the way the business was progressing.

Sue and I had spent the weekend together, and what time we were out of bed was taken up as she gave me a tour of her new city. She was on the verge of buying a home and wanted my opinion on it before she took the plunge. I liked the ranch-style house and the neighborhood it was in. I told her she had chosen well. I was hoping we might share this home some day, and that could have been in the back of her mind as well.

After I returned from Charlotte, my business consumed all my time over the next six months. I was still growing, and despite the rapid development of Dody as a fully competent field technician, I could see we were beginning to show signs of being overloaded once more. On top of that, I had only seen Sue once in August, and again that was only for a weekend and two week days. Sue didn't say anything to me about our long-distance romance, but I could sense that she wanted to. It was coming to decision time for both of us.

What changed my thinking were two conversations; the first with Dody and the second with my bank manager. 




Tipping Point Ch. 08



"Stan, there's something you need to know about," she began nervously. "I've got a boyfriend. His name is Curtis, and he's a mechanic ... an automotive mechanic. He's moving to Denver to be near his mom. She's sick, and his dad died some years ago. He feels like he needs to be there if anything happens.

"Anyway ... he asked me to go with him. I think he wants to ask me to marry him, but I haven't pushed him. I need to make up my mind about this job. It's too good to give up, so ... I was wondering ... uhhm ... if I could still work for you and live in Denver," she rushed out.

I didn't answer her right away. I thought it was interesting that she had a boyfriend and might get married in the near future. I hadn't considered that when I interviewed her. I guess I was assuming that since she wasn't a real beauty that I wouldn't have to worry about something like this. I kicked myself for being so narrow-minded. 

"Dody ... let me think about it for a bit. You're doing a fine job, and I'm fully confident in you, so my instinct is to think only about the travel and time issues. How about I give you an answer this weekend before you're off again? I won't let you wait too long, I promise."

"Thanks, Stan. I really hope we can make it work. Curtis and I worked together at Dad's shop and ... well ... I guess we fell in love along the way."

"I understand. I'll try and think of ways that we can make it work, I promise," I smiled.

With that we parted for the weekend, our plans for the next two weeks now loaded on our laptops. I went home to my apartment, opened a beer and sat at the kitchen table, thinking about Dody's request. It dawned on me that the answer to her need was the answer to my own. 

The only thing that bound us to Cincinnati was history. It's where I started and where I had been living for the last thirty years. We could live almost anywhere that had access to a major airport. If Dody was in Denver, and I was in ... say ... Charlotte, it would be easy to see how we could divide up the territory. 

The negative was that I would be moving away from Tommy and Jilly and my other friends and acquaintances. I decided to shelve my concerns about my own situation and concentrate on Dody's. What would be the plusses and minuses of her moving to Denver?

She was still young and inexperienced. She was progressing at a rapid rate, but there was still a lot for her to learn. Perhaps the best thing for her might be to finish out the year here and move in the new year. She would be better prepared then ... and for that matter, so would I. I didn't think asking her to wait four more months would be too big an obstacle for her. I was pretty sure she would agree.

Her maturity was never in question. She handled herself with the customers like a seasoned veteran. She was polite, a good listener, patient in difficult situations, both with clients and equipment, and most impressive, she was very dedicated in doing a quality job in a professional manner. For some one of her age, I thought that was remarkable. I had been very, very lucky to find her.

When I called her on Saturday afternoon and proposed the compromise, she was pleased and accepted the delay immediately. Problem one solved. Problem two ... what about Sue and me? 

My obstacles were a little more difficult to resolve. I had a son living in my apartment. Could he take over the lease? I could help financially now, so that problem could be handled. But what about my banking, accounting, and business stationery? All of that would have to change. Hell, Copely Services was less than a year old. What kind of confusion was I going to create? I thought I'd better get some advice.

I had a couple of open days the following week, and I made an appointment with my bank manager, Seth Fielder.

"The way your business is growing, I'd have thought you were running a dot-com enterprise in the nineties," Seth laughed. "The growth is remarkable, but I'm happy to say, not out of control. I guess that's one advantage of being a service industry. No inventory!"

"Yeah, although the airlines, hotel, and rental car outfits all get my money before the fact. So far, I don't have any bad receivables, so somewhere between thirty and sixty days, I'm getting paid. Now that I'm established, the cash flow is more consistent. My accountant is happy, anyway.

"The reason I wanted to see you today was about a personal issue, Seth. I'd rather this didn't go outside the office just yet. It's just the germ of an idea so far. I'm thinking of two things. First, I may move to Charlotte. I've got a lady friend, and it's getting fairly serious. She's a production manager in a big plant and she's just getting started. I couldn't ask her to move. I would hate to have to start all over again developing a relationship with a good bank, the way we have here. What do you suggest?"

Seth sat, clearly mulling over the options. After a few moments, he said, "I don't really see any need to change much at all. We have branches all over the U.S., and you can make your deposits in any one of them. As far as the other services we provide, we can still do those things by phone, e-mail, ATM, whatever. I would like to see you in person a couple of times a year. I like backing winners, so it would be good for my ego," he chuckled. "Other than that, it would be business as usual."

I was relieved. "I'm also having my only employee move to Denver in the new year. I assume the same services can be provided there?"

"Absolutely." Seth was looking very pleased with himself. "You said there were two things you wanted to discuss."

"Yeah. A friend of mine in the same business is thinking of retiring soon. He may want to sell his business, and I've asked for an opportunity to discuss buying it from him. Obviously, that would require a loan, so I wanted to talk to you about it before I got too carried away."

"What does he have in the way of assets? A building, vehicles, inventory, manpower?"

"No ... just himself and three contractors who work for him. Same situation that I'm in, except he's been in it a lot longer. I have no idea what a business like that would be worth. How would I go about figuring that out?"

Seth smiled, "Once again, your friendly, neighborhood banker can help you out. We have access to professional appraisers who do just that. You're right, you will need a loan, but first you need to find out just how much he wants or thinks the business is worth. If he over-values it, an appraiser can bring him down to earth fairly quickly. But you only call them in to arbitrate if the seller's expectations are unrealistic. Follow me?"

"Yeah. Got it. So for now, I'll just wait to see when he decides to put the business up, and I'll contact you then. Okay?"

We shook hands and I left feeling like I had a more secure vision about the immediate future. That left only one other problem to resolve. What to do about the workload.

Tommy and Jilly's twenty-first birthday party had come and gone. They were both born in July, only a few days apart, so the Foresters, Sylvia, and I got together to plan a nice party for them. The weather co-operated and we had a great lawn party that lasted well past ten. Sylvia was there alone, as was I, and we sat and talked for a while. I think I was well past the anger and frustration of her behavior now. We could co-exist in our son's life without conflict, and I was grateful for that.

In September, my accounting firm confirmed that my financial status would support another employee, and I set about looking for another Dody. I wasn't sure I'd ever find another gem like her, but I would try. I interviewed haphazardly as time would allow, but didn't find anyone I was confident could fill the role. The problem was resolved in a strange, if not tragic set of circumstances. 

Dody was looking quite miserable one Friday as she entered my apartment. "What's up, girl? You look pretty down."

She was near tears. "Curtis's mom died last night. He's gone to Denver for the funeral. I guess that means we don't have to move. He'd rather live here with me and his other friends, now that his mom is gone."

"I'm very sorry to hear that, Dody. I'm sure Curtis will be very sad to lose his mother. Does he have any grandparents still alive?"

"Yes. His dad's parents live in Columbus, and I think he said his mom's father lived in Arizona. So ... there's no one close by except ... me," she said quietly.

"Well, I think that's going to be pretty important to him ... that you're here for him."

She nodded. "Yeah. I'll look after him."

We talked about our schedule, as we always did and afterwards, shared a beer and some idle chit chat. I mentioned the trouble I was having finding another person of her quality, and that brightened her up considerably. She enjoyed being told she was appreciated. I wondered if it had been something missing in her young life. None of my business I suppose.

"You know, I might know of someone who you might want to talk to," she said after some more small talk.

"Are they as good as you?" I kidded.

"Of course not. I'm one of a kind," she laughed. "Seriously though, Curtis could do that job. I mean, he could learn it. He's really sharp, and I think he's a bit envious about my job. He keeps asking me about it. Would it be okay if I took him with me on a couple of calls so he could see what the job was all about? He'd pay his own way, of course."

I thought about it. A husband and wife team? Interesting concept. Except ... they weren't married yet. Hmmm. "Just let me know where you want to take him. That way I can warn you if there are any sensitivities with particular customers."

"Fine. I don't think it will be right away. He's on leave from the dealer right now, but this might just brighten him up. I have a feeling he'll jump at the chance if it's offered."

I had never met Curtis and I would have to rectify that. In the meantime, I could talk to Dody's father and get an opinion on the young man. A qualified automotive mechanic would have the necessary skills, but likely would have little experience dealing with the public or working on the type of equipment our clients featured. Still, it was a better lead than I'd had so far. I called Doug Whitmarsh and arranged to meet him after work.

"He's a nice young guy, Stan. I'm not just saying that because he's dating my daughter. He's a good mechanic, always on time, and works well with others. Whether he'd make a good service technician for you ... I don't know. But he's certainly worth a look."

"Well, Dody thinks he's up to it, and I trust her judgment, so I'll probably give him a chance, if that's what he wants to do. Dody never left me any doubt that she wanted that job in the worst way. I can only hope that Curtis is just as enthusiastic, and not just envious of her."

"I never thanked you properly for giving Dody that job. She's a changed girl ... woman. I gather she's good at it, too."

"She's outstanding at it. It's going to be almost impossible to find anyone who can measure up to her. I can see her owning a business like this some day," I grinned.

Doug was shaking his head. "I never would have guessed. I guess I didn't really pay much attention to her, even though I knew she was pretty handy with fixing things around the house. Shows you how you can overlook something right in your own home. I know her mother is very, very proud of her."

"She's a gem. I think she might like to hear it from you too. She's pretty proud of her father and mother as well, from what she's told me."

He smiled ruefully, "Yeah, that's something I need to do ... besides having someone kick my ass for not doing it sooner." 

"Well, I've never raised a daughter, so I can't say anything, but yours is one fine young lady. You should be proud."

"Thanks," he nodded as we touched glasses.

The issue with Dody potentially moving, and now the possibility of having Curtis join our group, helped clear my mind about my relationship with Sue. I wasn't scheduled to be in Charlotte until November, just before Thanksgiving, but I thought it couldn't wait any longer. I needed to resolve my ... our ... future. 

"Hi, Sue. Can you stand a house guest this weekend?" I asked hopefully.

"Of course, Stan. What brings you to Charlotte? I didn't think I'd see you until Thanksgiving ... not that I'm complaining," she chuckled. 

"Oh ... let's just call it a bonus weekend for us. Are you all right with that?"

"Hell, yes! When are you arriving?"

"Friday afternoon. I'll let you know what flight."

"Oh, Stan, that's great. I'll pick you up, as usual. It'll be great to see you again."

I made my flight reservation, happy that I could see her so quickly. I wasn't sure of just what I wanted to say or do, but I knew it was now or never if we were going to make a commitment to each other. I'd rather know now, even if it wasn't in my favor.

It was stupid of me to rush this meeting, I know, but I knew I wouldn't have a clearer head any time soon. I was certain of my love for Sue, but uncertain that she felt just the way that I did. There were positive signals, but was that enough? I had to suck it up and take my chance. It wasn't going to be easy, but I wasn't leaving Charlotte without an answer ... one way or the other.

Sue met me at the airport with her usual enthusiasm; a big, smacking kiss, her arms wrapped tightly around me, and her pelvis jammed tightly into my crotch. It was quite a public display, but nothing she hadn't done before.

"Hello, lover. How's my man? It's so good to see you again." Her words and actions gave me confidence. Maybe she was more certain than I thought. I hoped so. There was something else, though. Something different about her. It took me a moment to recognize it.

"Sue ... you've lost weight. Are you all right?" I asked, worried momentarily.

"Yeah ... I'm all right. And yes, I've lost weight. I'll tell you all about it, but not right now. It's nothing to worry about, though."

I breathed an inward sigh of relief. She looked even more beautiful to me than she did before. She hadn't lost her voluptuous shape. In fact, her slimmed down body had accentuated her breasts and hips. She was even sexier than before.

We chatted about nothing in particular on the drive to her house. We had been talking every week at least once in the past months, and we knew almost everything there was to know that was going on in our lives. It felt sometimes like we were already married, except for the separation. We were completely comfortable in each other's company.

We stopped at a pizzeria on the way and picked up one of our favorites; a medium Sicilian. A tossed salad and a glass of wine would be all the preparation we would need to make. Sue had one less slice than she normally would, and put the two remaining pieces in the fridge for a later snack. We took our wine glasses to the living room and sat together on the sofa.

"Okay, Stan. Tell me why you suddenly needed to be in Charlotte," she quizzed with a slight smile.

I let my breath out, if only to try and calm myself, and put my glass of wine on the coffee table. I was searching for a way to start, but in the end, I just plunged forward.

"I love you, Sue. I know that for sure ... and I want to marry you." There, it was out in the open. No going back now.

She sat there, looking at me, not reacting right away. I saw her blink a couple of times, and then ... silent tears. She was nodding, but not saying anything. What did that mean?"

She snorted back a sob, her hands going to her eyes, wiping away the tears that still fell. I wondered if she was ever going to say something. Anything! When she did, I hoped I was ready for it.

"I ... I love you too, Stan. I think I've loved you for years ... even when you were married and I ... I couldn't have you. You've always been the man I compared the others to. The ones who could never match up and meet the standard that I set for them. I never thought I'd see the day when you would be free. I used to dream of you asking me to marry you. It was my fantasy. And now ... now it's happened. I can't quite get my mind to accept it."

I breathed a deep sigh of relief. I think I had a "yes." I couldn't stop from smiling as I gazed at her, wiping her eyes and trying to smile as well.

"I'll bet you have a hundred questions, but for now ... if you're telling me you will, let's just leave it at that. I want to make love to you, and then we'll sleep on it. There'll be plenty of time to talk in the morning," I said softly.

She nodded, still trying to get hold of her emotions. I hadn't really understood just how deep her feelings for me ran. It wasn't something that I was expecting, but it was plain that she felt deeply about me. I stood, held out my hand to her, and she took it, now smiling genuinely, without any hesitation.

Sue seldom slept naked, but that night was an exception. I had a chance to admire her new "look," and I thought she looked even more beautiful than ever. I guessed that she had been exercising, because I could see some muscle definition that wasn't there before. It certainly didn't detract from her femininity, however. 

There was nothing frantic or celebratory about our joining. It was a calm and emotional moment as I gently took her, slowly bringing her with me on our wave of passion. We were silent except for the liquid sounds of my erection dipping rhythmically into her. I was lost in the moment, thinking this was something I had never known before; not with Sylvia, not with anyone. Sue's eyes were open, but only just. She wore a fixed slight smile as we made love. This was contentment for us both. It was our beginning. The past was gone, along with the bad memories.

I awoke just before 6am that Saturday morning. Sue was sound asleep, her arm draped across my side, lightly gripping my thigh. I lay there for a while, enjoying every second of this perfect new day. Her scent, her softness, her breasts pressed lightly into my back. I reached back and gently squeezed her bottom, slightly surprised at its firmness. 

When she didn't stir, I carefully got out of bed and slipped on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt from my travel bag. I closed the door behind me as I made my way silently toward the kitchen. A glass of orange juice and a banana was my normal start to the day, and Sue had them for me. I picked up the newspaper from the front porch and returned to the kitchen table. A while later, I rose again and made a pot of coffee. There had still been no sound from the bedroom.

I thought I would make breakfast for us on this "first day" of our new life. I was full of energy, wondering just what I could do to make Sue even happier than she already was. Before falling asleep last night, she told me just how happy she was that we would be together forever. I didn't doubt that she meant every word.

I was in the middle of mixing the eggs, peppers, chives, and cheese when I felt a pair of arms encircle my waist and pull me into a lush, warm body. Sue's head was tucked into my shoulder, and I could smell her hair ... a hint of shampoo mixed with that wonderful female scent she exuded. I put down the bowl and turned to her.

"Good morning, my love," I said softly.

"Hmmmm ... g'morning," she mumbled, her face now buried in my chest. It was a still-sleepy Sue that embraced me in that kitchen.

"Can I get you some coffee ... or some juice?" I asked.

"Hmmmm ... shower," she said, lifting her head to smile at me. "Breakfast can wait," she announced as she took my hand and led me back to the bedroom. 

Her new house had only one bathtub, and that was in the main bathroom. At some point, the previous owners had removed the tub from the ensuite and installed a five-foot shower stall, beautifully tiled. Sue shrugged her robe from her shoulders, unabashedly naked before me as she turned on the shower. It wasn't too difficult for me to remove my shorts and t-shirt, and in a matter moments, we were holding each other as the warm water cascaded down upon us.




Tipping Point Ch. 08



It was another new experience for me. It wasn't something Sylvia and I had ever tried. In fact, Sylvia was always a little hesitant to let me see her naked. There was no good reason why. She had a lovely, slim body that any woman would envy, but nonetheless, she was shy in revealing herself. Sue had no such reservations. In fact, she was becoming quite playful and we soaped each other, lingering over our erogenous zones. I loved her outgoing behavior when we were behind closed doors. In public, she was usually the proper lady. In private, I had the feeling I was about to discover that she could be quite uninhibited. Another something new for me to enjoy.

We knew we'd spent a long time in the shower when the hot water ran out. Sue yelped in surprise when it quickly turned cold. We held each other close as we toweled ourselves dry, kissing and fondling as we went. 

"I'm hungry," she finally admitted.

"I'm ready to look after that, m'lady," I bowed.

I was about to return to the kitchen when I decided to watch her dress. She knew I was watching her as I sat on the bed. It only took me a few seconds to slip on a pair of jeans over my shorts. I watched her slip on a pair of bikini panties, wiggling her ass at me as he looked over her shoulder. Next came a pair of very tight jeans. They looked new.

She liked to tease, and I'm sure that was the reason she pulled out a snug tank top, not bothering with a bra. She sauntered over to me, her full breasts swaying with her motion, a crafty smile on her face.

"Like what you see?"

I reached for her, but she danced quickly just out of reach. 

"Feed me first, lover. Then we can play," she said, turning and wiggling her ass once more as she sauntered out the door. 

I could take a hint. I jumped off the bed and followed her back to the kitchen.

My earlier preparation cut down the time it took for us to have a full breakfast of scrambled eggs, fried tomatoes, and whole wheat toast. Sue looked like she was savoring every morsel, but watching me and sending me smiles of satisfaction with my effort. When we finished, she leaned back in the chair and let out a long sigh.

"God, that was good. I'd better be careful, or I'll gain back all those pounds I worked so hard to lose," she said, still smiling.

"You look wonderful. I didn't think it was possible for you to look any more beautiful than you already were, but I was wrong."

She waggled her eyebrows at me, rose and walked to my chair, plopping down in my lap. "You say the nicest things, Stan." She was using her sultry voice now. I got a nice, long, sexy kiss, tasting remarkably like scrambled eggs. "Was I dreaming, or did you ask me to marry you last night?" 

"Susanna Maria Palotti, I ask you again, will you marry me?"

"Yes ... yes ... a thousand times yes!" she hissed, her eyes ablaze with an inner fire I seldom saw.

"Then today, I would like you to accompany me to look for an appropriate ring. I want it to be official, and I want everyone to know," I insisted.

"I want everyone to know too. By the way, how did you know my full name?"

"I peeked one day when you were in the bathroom. I saw your driver's license. It's a lovely name."

"It's going to change. I'm going to be Susanna Maria Copely. You're not going to make me wait too long for that, are you?"

"That and a hundred other things are what we have to talk about. You haven't asked about our living accommodations yet."

A look of concern crossed her face. I was right ... she hadn't thought of that or other big changes. It was time to ease her mind.

"Sue ... let me tell you what I've been preparing for. I'll tell you what I'm thinking and you can tell me if you agree or not. Don't you dare agree to something you don't really believe in. Hear me!"

She nodded, but looked anxious.

"I wasn't sure that you would say yes when I proposed, but ... I hoped you would. I've been working with my bank manager on a couple of things. First, I'm moving the business to Charlotte. I will operate out of here while Dody looks after things in the Cincinnati and west area. I'm also looking for another technician to pick up the new business we're encountering and maybe give a little more time here with you."

That got me a big, warm, wet kiss and a powerful hug. I could see the hint of a tear in her eyes, but I pressed on.

"I want you to continue with your career at Winston. My business is portable. I'll go where you go. If you're offered another promotion, and I'm betting you will be, I want you to be able to accept it without worrying about me. I can live anywhere as long as it's with you."

Now the tears started in earnest, but she remained silent.

"Finally, I'd like your permission to move in with you in this lovely new home. I like this house. I did when you first brought me here. I think we can be very happy in this home."

"When?" she sputtered.

"How about now?" I grinned.

She wrapped her arms even tighter about me and squeezed me as hard as she could. I didn't need a verbal answer. I knew what it would be.



My thanks to ErikThread and DaveT for their editing and technical skills. Any errors are mine.



Tipping Point Ch. 09



Chapter 9: Everything I Could Want

We found a ring quite easily in the first jewelry store we visited. I liked it, but more importantly, it was the one that Sue really wanted. They promised to have it sized later that week, but since there was little change required, Sue wanted to wear it, agreeing to bring it back Monday. She nearly floated out of the store when we left.

We phoned Tommy and Jilly to let them know about our official engagement. I had informed my son of my intentions, but I wasn't positive that I would succeed. He was happy for me, as was Jilly. We talked about when we could meet so that I could introduce my fiancée. In the end, Jilly convinced me that Thanksgiving at the Foresters would be perfect. That girl is going to make a great wife.

Sue let me know we had been invited to Byron and Diane's for supper on Sunday, and I was sure Sue would be proudly flashing her new ring. I was right. We were barely in the door when Sue held up her left hand in front of Diane. The squeal of surprise from her friend was followed by a big hug for Sue and another for me. 

I took a look at Byron and I could read him like an open book. "Oh no ... I'm going to lose my new production manager." 

"Take it easy, Byron. I'm moving here, and Sue isn't going anywhere."

There was an audible sigh of relief from him. He shook my hand and embraced and kissed Sue in congratulation. They were genuinely happy for both of us. 

We had a very nice evening with the Mulliners, ending it before ten, since the next day was a work day for all of us except Diane. Sue was in a giggly mood, tantalizing me with suggestive touches and comments as we drove back to the house. It seemed as if the idea of our being engaged was just now beginning to set in. If she hadn't quite believed it before, she did now. 

She was all over me when we closed the door behind us. I got the distinct impression she was going to make tonight a very different night from both Friday and Saturday. I was right. She decided to entertain me with a strip tease, and she had all the moves down pat. As I sat on the edge of the bed and watched, she taunted me with her swaying hips, teasing me as she revealed her breasts, dancing to some unheard music, first close to me, then moving away. I watched fascinated. It was a Sue that I hadn't seen before.

As I watched, I was gradually undressing myself, conscious of my now full erection. My future bride was putting on a performance that would give a dead man a hard-on. She was reminding me just how much I loved to watch her butt, and she took every opportunity to wiggle and jiggle it in front of me. I reached for it to give it a playful slap, but she was too clever to get close enough for me to catch her.

Finally, she climbed up on the bed, straddling me, her eyes barely more than slits, and the scent of arousal on her. I lost my self-control at that point and pushed her onto her back, attacking her breasts with my mouth, then moving down to her sex. She opened herself completely to me, her hands on the back of my head as I ravished her pussy. Within seconds she was bucking and groaning under me. 

Sue's orgasms were never explosive, but they were evident by her vocalizations and her surging hips. They built to a peak, then slowly descended. I was never left to wonder if she was satisfied. We made love that night in reckless, abandoned excitement, celebrating our announcement to the world. When we finally lay together, almost in exhaustion, it occurred to me that I had never felt this way about anyone before. Perhaps, for the first time, I had discovered what being in love was really all about.

I awoke at the sound of the clock radio coming on at 6am. I was holding a naked woman in my arms, and she was holding me. It was a wonderful sensation, and one I hoped to repeat many times over. Sue stirred, and opened her eyes.

"G'mornin' lover," she croaked. The smile was soft and wrinkled.

"Hi. Remember me?"

"Oh yeah. You're my husband-to-be."

"Excellent. I was wondering if you'd remember. Shall we share a shower?"

"Not 'till I pee," she giggled, climbing out of the bed after untangling herself from me.

I lay back on the bed and waited until she invited me to join her. It had been an amazing weekend. Not just the sex, but the feeling that had developed in me. I had made a huge decision, but didn't doubt that it was the right one for even a second. I'd never felt so sure of myself in my entire life.

Sue gave me the ring to take to the jewelers just before we left for work. There was no point in taking it to the plant, since no rings, jewelry, or wrist watches were allowed to be worn on the shop floor. It was a safety issue. I drove her to the plant, then headed into town to do some errands before the jewelry store opened. 

It was just after nine that morning when I finished my errands. I was trying to decide what to do next when my cell phone went off. Caller ID told me it was Tommy.

"Dad, Mom's been hurt. She's been in some kind of accident. She's in the hospital."

"Okay, Tommy. Calm down. What kind of accident?"

"I don't know. She wasn't in her car. I don't know what happened. The police are at the house. They wouldn't tell me anything. I don't know what to do."

"All right, son. I've got to make a couple of phone calls, but I'll be there as soon as I can. I'll let you know when."

I called Sue at the plant and let her know I had to get back to Cincinnati right away. She understood as I knew she would. Then I called my two customers that I had planned to visit mid-week, explaining a family emergency and that I would be at their plants as soon as possible. Again, they understood.

I caught a noon flight and was met by Tommy early that afternoon. 

"So, what's the story, Tommy? What happened to your mother?"

He looked haggard and deeply distressed. "Dad, I think ... I think Mom might have tried to kill herself," he said, breaking into tears.

It was like being hit by a linebacker. I was stunned. "No! I can't believe it. She would never ...." It was as far as I got with my thoughts. What would possess Sylvia to even contemplate such a thing? 

"What makes you think so, son?"

"The police said something about pills and ... I don't know what else it could be."

"Let's not jump to conclusions. Where is she now?"

"She's at Christ Hospital ... downtown."

"Okay, let's go there as see how she is."

I almost didn't recognize her when we found the room. She was alone, propped up in her bed, looking far older than her forty-three years. Her eyes were closed, and her head was turned away. Tommy and I stood in the doorway for a moment before we entered. She must have heard the chair scraping on the floor as I pulled it toward the bed.

"Tommy? Stan? Stan, what are you doing here?" she asked in a weak voice.

"I was going to ask you the same thing," I said, trying to smile.

Tommy was standing and had approached the side of the bed, leaning forward to kiss his mother. I stayed at a distance, not sure that was what I wanted to do just yet.

"I got careless. Stupid me ... I've been taking anti-depressants ... and ... I decided to have a glass of wine. I found out they don't mix ... at least ... not for me. I got dizzy and was feeling sick and I fell. I guess I hit my head on something. I don't remember anything else until I woke up here with a horrible headache."

"So it was an accident, then?" I suggested.

"Yes ... yes ... what did you think?" A look of shock came over her face. "You didn't think ...? You did, didn't you? You thought I'd tried to ... you know," she tailed off, her head falling back on the pillow. 

"I didn't know what to think. Tommy and I didn't have very much information, but when they mentioned pills ... I guess we jumped to the wrong conclusion," I admitted.

She was silent for a while, her head turned toward the window. She turned back to us. 

"I had thought of it ... once or twice. But ... I would never have the nerve to go through with it." 

I saw a look of sorrow that I had only seen once or twice before in the past twenty years. Was she sorry that we had thought she might do away with herself, or that she had put Tommy ... and perhaps even me ... through the anguish of what might have happened? Or was it the divorce, the thought of being alone, and the realization that she had that she had brought it all on herself?

"I'm just glad we were wrong," I said softly. It was true, I was relieved. Was I more worried about what I might have driven her to?

"I've been seeing a therapist for the past few months. I needed something to get past the last two or three years ... what I've done to you ... my family ... my selfishness. She prescribed the pills, but warned me how they could be dangerous. I guess I got careless and forgot her warning. I'm sorry if I frightened you."

"Is the therapy helping?" I asked.

"Yes ... I think so. I think I know who I'm looking at in the mirror now. It isn't a pretty picture, but it's real ... it's me."

"You can change that, Mom. You can go back to who you were ... before," Tommy said reassuringly. 

"I hope so, Tommy. That's what I want ... more than anything. I've already made some decisions about that. I've decided to quit my job when the therapy sessions are over. I'll go somewhere else and start over. I've got skills, so I'm not worried about it. At least I won't be prostituting myself to get ahead," she said with a tone of regret.

Tommy looked shocked, probably unaware of his mother's reasons for her liaison with Peter Ambleton. I would try and find the words to explain it to him later, but Sylvia took the matter out of my hands.

"Don't look so surprised, Tommy. Your mother let her ambition get the better of her. I used sex to get my promotions. I'm not proud of it, but ... that's what I did."

Tommy remained silent, still trying to digest what his mother was confessing to, I suppose.

"It's done, Sylvia. If you've decided to make a break from Empire, then you're already sure you're not going to do that again," I said, more for Tommy's benefit than hers.

We remained quiet for a minute or so, Tommy and I sitting in the chairs while Sylvia stared at the ceiling.

"Tommy tells me you've found someone, Stan," she said at last.

I caught me a bit off-guard. I wondered just what she knew and what I should say. With a sigh, I decided the truth was the best option.

"Yes. Her name is Sue Palotti, and I've asked her to marry me." I saw Sylvia nod and show the hint of a smile. I decided to press on. "She was one of my customers ... in Kansas City. Recently, she moved to Charlotte, so I'm moving there too. My business is fairly portable, but I'm still traveling, so it doesn't mean I won't be back here fairly often."

"Do you love her?" she asked, looked directly into my eyes.

"Yes ... yes I do. Very much."

"Good ... I'm glad. You deserve to be happy. Someday I'd like to meet her. I'm sure I'd like her." 

The comments surprised me, but at the same time, it was a great relief that there were no tears or recriminations about our past. She sounded genuine in her feelings.

We stayed until the nurse shooed us out before the evening meal was served. Our conversation was pleasant and Sylvia seemed content in her space as we talked. We learned that she had a concussion and wouldn't be let out for a couple of days yet to insure she was not suffering any serious after-effects. Tommy would be waiting for her when she was released.

I let my breath out as we walked away from the room. It had been tense, although nothing like it might have been. I was relieved that it hadn't been the serious situation that Tommy had feared when he met me at the airport. On the other hand, Sylvia's surprise at my being there had a calming effect on her. I felt the conversation during that past hour had mainly been between her and me, with Tommy as a bystander.

"Tommy, I'm sorry if it seemed like we were ignoring you in there. It wasn't intentional."

"Yeah ... I know, Dad. I think you two had to clean up some things between you. I told her about Sue, but I think she wanted you to tell her. She's not upset about it, as you can tell. I think she knew it was inevitable. Maybe now, you two can be friends."

"I think that's a good possibility. I'm really glad she's in therapy. I'm also glad she's getting away from Empire. That was a bad situation for her. She wouldn't get better staying there."

The next morning I said goodbye to Tommy, reminding him that both Sue and I would be back for Thanksgiving. I decided to drive my car back to Charlotte. It was nearly five hundred miles, so I split the trip into two days, stopping in Beckley, West Virginia, at the junction of I-64. I had a long talk with Sue that night on the phone. I told her what had happened to Sylvia and the talk we had in her hospital room. 

I felt it had finally put an end to whatever might have been left between us. Sylvia had let go, and I was relieved. I didn't really recognize that I hadn't been free until that happened. Sue understood immediately how important that was to both of us. There would be no ghosts in our background. We were liberated, and it felt wonderful. 

I was up, showered, shaved, and on the road before dawn the next morning. I stopped at a gas station to fill the tank and get a coffee and a muffin before rejoining I-77 south to Charlotte. I expected to be at our house before eleven, giving me plenty of time to repack, pick up my gear, and head to the airport. Thanks to the internet, I had made my flight arrangements for that afternoon and would be on my way to St. Louis and my Thursday appointment. Friday would find me in Jefferson City, and with any luck, home in the early evening that same day. I was squeezing in my calls, but the unscheduled visit to Cincinnati was important. More important than I originally thought. 

When I drove into our garage just before eight Friday evening, I was tired but pleased. I had pushed hard to complete my work at both my calls, and I was satisfied that I had met my customer's expectations. Sue met me in the kitchen, and I received a very nice welcome home. It was "home" now; hers and mine. We sat on the sofa together and talked about the past week and what had been going on in her life. 

I hadn't seen her since I had kissed her goodbye as she left for work on Monday morning, and I had missed waking up with her in our bed that week. She showed me the re-sized ring and I noticed that she couldn't stop looking at it every so often. It took me a while to understand that this was the first time in her life that someone had made this kind of commitment, and I think she was still surprised by it.

We decided to fly to Cincinnati for Thanksgiving, since ice storms were not unusual along the interstates at that time of year. I made the reservations and Tommy promised to pick us up at the airport. I was looking forward to showing Sue off to my son and future daughter, as well as to the Foresters.

I think it might have been the best Thanksgiving I had ever experienced. Sue, Maureen, and Jilly had connected immediately. Dick was all smiles as he congratulated me on my engagement. Tommy said he liked Sue right away, and it showed. She had that effect on people. You just naturally liked her bubbly personality and positive outlook.

We had planned to stay over at my old apartment, and spend the weekend with Tommy and Jilly, letting Sue get to know my son and futures. On the spur of the moment, I called Sylvia and asked her if she would like to meet Sue. It was a bit of a gamble, but I thought ... better sooner than later. She agreed, and we suggested we all have dinner together on Saturday night: Tommy, Jilly, Sue, Sylvia, and me. 

It turned out well. I couldn't detect any jealousy between my ex-wife and Sue. They seemed to get along quite well. Again, I think Sue's outgoing personality helped a great deal. She wasn't clingy or overly affectionate toward me, and I think that was the secret to putting Sylvia at ease. It was a pleasant evening and I felt good that I had made the decision to include her.

"I like Sylvia," Sue said later in bed. "She's not the way I pictured her ... I mean, her personality."

I thought about it for a moment. "She's changed. She's more balanced ... more calm and controlled. I think the therapy must have helped a great deal. It really takes a lot of pressure off me ... off us. We can co-exist without a lot of stress or discomfort." 

"You were on edge for a bit tonight, sweetheart. I was watching you. You weren't certain what might happen, were you?"

"You're right. I wasn't. It was a risk, but I thought it might be worth it to know. You know ... better now than later. We're going to be thrown together on occasion, so we might as well know what to expect. It looks like it's going to be fine," I sighed. Sue was right. It was stressful at first; not knowing what to expect.

Sue rolled over to me and draped her arm over my chest. "I'm so lucky to have you, lover. So lucky." She snuggled into me and the next conscious moment I had was sunrise on Sunday morning. 

We flew back to Charlotte, arriving in the late afternoon, Monday. It would be back to work for both of us the next day. During our extra-long weekend, we had talked about our wedding plans. When, where, whom to invite, the honeymoon, and all the things that needed to be arranged. Sue appeared to know what she wanted and was willing to make many, if not most of the arrangements. I couldn't think of anything we disagreed on, so I gave her carte blanche to go ahead.

Financially, we were in "tall cotton," as our new southern friends would say. My business was continuing to grow and produce better than expected income. Dody was well along the way in getting her now fiancé, Curtis, fully qualified to handle a territory on his own. Yes, that's right, Dody was doing the training. That girl was unbelievable! My only worry was whether I could keep her. She would soon be good enough to branch out on her own. I was hoping that wouldn't happen too soon.

Just before Christmas, Carmen called to let me know our statement of claim against Faraday and Crosse had been settled. They had agreed to pay me $80,000, in exchange for a non-disclosure agreement and the stipulation that there would be no further claims. On Carmen's advice, I agreed to the settlement. It was a nice early Christmas present, and would look after the wedding and honeymoon, with quite a bit left over.

We finally agreed that we would marry in May, and Sue found a church in Charlotte with an available date. She was going to wear white, since she had never been married. The idea of her not being a virgin was never mentioned. 

We would also send airline tickets to Tommy and Jilly, Sue's parents, my mother, and my sister and brother to aid in their travel. We would be inviting the Foresters, Dody and Curtis, Byron and Diane, and a number of other friends. I wondered about inviting Sylvia, but Sue persuaded me to include her. She could always decline if she wasn't comfortable. That's what happened, in fact.

In early February, Dave Thomas called from Florida and asked me if I was interested in buying his business. I talked it over with Sue, as she thought that if it was manageable, both financially and practically, we should make an attempt. I called Seth Fielder at the bank and asked him to get the groundwork in place while I met with Dave to sound out what kind of money he was thinking of.

With some back and forth between Dave, Seth, and me, we came to an agreement that Seth was confident that I could live with. I would inherit the three agents now working for Dave, with no guarantees that I would keep them. That would be an assessment I would be allowed to make. 




Tipping Point Ch. 09



I was about to double the size of my business, and the projected income was enough to stagger me. I was having trouble accepting that this had all happened in such a short period of time. Perhaps Seth's analogy of it being like an '80's dot-com business wasn't so far out. I just had to hope that it wouldn't burn out like the dot-com's did. It think Seth and Sue had more confidence in me than I did. It only took me twenty-five years to become an overnight success.

In the meantime, we had taken on some additional staff. I now had a full-time accountant, and a young intern who was responsible for scheduling our service calls. It took a lot of the time-consuming work off the field techs' hands, and they were grateful for it. The techs still had the say about when and where, but the details were handled by our assistant in Charlotte. Once we had ironed out the bugs, it worked very well. My lessons learned from the F & C fiasco had made sure of that.

Speaking of Faraday and Crosse, there was a rumor going around that they were for sale. No surprise, really. They had continued to be in decline over the past two years, and I wondered if anyone would be interested in buying them. So imagine my surprise when I got a call from Jonas Faraday himself. 

"Hello, Stanley," came the friendly, clear voice. The old man had always called me Stanley. Amazingly, his voice was strong, never giving a hint of his ninety-plus years.

"Mr. Faraday. Good to hear from you, sir."

"You don't need to call me sir, Stanley. We've know each other too long, and to you I'm Jonas."

"Thank you, Jonas. That's a great honor. How are you keeping?"

"Amazingly well, considering," he chuckled. "Well enough that I can follow the exploits of my former star employee."

"Oh ... well ... I don't know about star," I mumbled.

"Nonsense! You were the glue that kept what was left of Faraday and Crosse in business. That's why I called. I've been keeping an eye on you since you left and went on your own. I have a proposition that I want to discuss with you," he said firmly.

"Uh ... what kind of proposition?"

"I'm sure you've heard the rumors about F & C being for sale. Well ... they're not true. I am looking for a responsible investor that can bring the business back to life. I've found one likely candidate, and I'm hoping you can be another. Does that interest you?"

"Uh ... well ... I don't know. I've just bought out Dave Thomas, so I'm not sure what I'd be able to contribute ... financially."

"Don't worry about financing. That's the easy part. The real question is ... do you think you can restore F & C to something resembling its former place in the market?"

"Whew ... that's a tall order. I really don't know. I suppose it's possible, but ... there are a lot of questions to be asked first."

"Of course ... of course. I expect that. Could you make yourself available to meet with me next week in Cincinnati to discuss the possibility in more detail? You'd need a full day."

"I suppose so. I think I could clear Wednesday, if that's okay? But, I'd like to talk about it with my fiancée. It will affect her too."

"That will be fine, Stanley. I'm looking forward to seeing you again. I'm sure you'll find your time well spent."

We signed off, and I sat back in my office chair, my head spinning from the old man's suggestion. Me? An owner of Faraday and Crosse? It was crazy on the surface of it ... but ... what was the harm in listening? I picked up the phone and called Sue.

"Hi ... what brings you to call me at the office," she answered cheerily.

"I just had the strangest phone call. You won't believe who it was, or what it was about."

"Try me," she giggled.

"Well, how's this for weird? It was Jonas Faraday, and he wants to talk to me about taking over F & C with an ownership position."

"Yeah ... so what's strange about that?" Her voice was laced with mirth. She knew! How the hell did she know?

"This isn't a big surprise, is it?" I said in a somewhat accusatory tone.

"Don't get all upset, dear. You kept a secret from me about my promotion. I was asked to do the same," she explained.

"Oh ... so ... Byron's involved?"

"Yes. Up to his eyeballs. Faraday called him for a reference. He'd heard about what you did with the Helmvac. Apparently, that's all over the industry. You're famous, Stan. And, I guess Byron praised you to the sky, so I suppose it's no surprise the old man called you."

"And, you're not upset about it?"

"Hell no! I knew you wouldn't do anything without talking to me about it. This is something special, Stan. It's a once-in-a-lifetime thing. You want to listen very carefully to this. Promise me you will?" She was deadly serious now. Better yet, she was encouraging me to explore the opportunity. We could deal with the implications later.

"Yeah ... sure. He wants to meet me next Wednesday in Cincinnati. I guess I'll call him back and tell him I'll be there."

"You do that, sweetheart. We'll talk about it tonight when I'm home. I'm excited for you, Stan. I'll see you later," she said. 

I was surprised, if not amazed. She was really encouraging me to look at this as a big opportunity. I needed to sit back and think about what it would take to get F & C back on the rails. It wasn't just about the product, it was going to be about the people. I could quickly think of who didn't fit with what I wanted to do with the business. Most of them were in the management team.

But the real question was what would become of Copely Services? If F & C was restored as a manufacturer, how could I maintain a business that serviced competitive machines? That wouldn't work. On top of that, F & C had fallen behind in technology. It would take quite a big investment to bring them back up to competitive status. How much, I had no idea. There was a lot to think about.

When Sue got home late that afternoon, I was greeted with one of her patented kisses. "How's my superstar lover?" she asked.

"Oh ... I've graduated to superstar status, have I?" She sure knew how to make me feel special.

"Always were, always will be," she cooed. "Now, there are some other people who think you're a superstar too."

"I hope they realize I'm just a beginner at this business thing. I feel like this is too much, too soon. It makes me nervous."

"I know, sweetheart, but you don't have to do anything but listen. You know you can count on Seth and Carmen for advice. Byron too, for that matter. I know you well enough that you won't jump unless you're convinced it makes sense."

"Damn, woman, you've got a lot of confidence in me." 

"Yes I have. It's what makes you special, lover. I knew it the first time I met you. When you walked out on that floor to my machine, I knew inside a minute that you could get it fixed. Better than that, you showed me what was wrong, and how to fix it myself. I've never forgotten that."

"No ... I guess you haven't," I smiled. 

"Are you excited about this opportunity?"

"I'm trying not to be. I'm trying to keep a clear head so that I don't make a mistake. It's hard. To own my own business has been a big shot in the arm these last two years. I'm really enjoying the challenge. And ... I've been lucky. I've found Dody and Curtis, and they're great. Everything keeps turning up aces. Best of all ... I found you, the Ace of Hearts."

We held each other, kissing now and then, reminding ourselves of just how fortunate we were. My life ... our life ... was so completely different than it had been. It wasn't any wonder that I slept well ... so peacefully at night.

My thanks to ErikThread and DaveT for their editing and technical expertise. Any errors are mine alone.



Tipping Point Ch. 10



Chapter: 10 – The New Man



The meeting with Jonas Faraday was fascinating. I had tipped my banker, Seth Fielder, to what was going on, and I wanted him to be included if it got to the point where we could seriously look at some type of ownership position. Seth was excited that this had come about so quickly, and was grateful that I had thought to include him in the early stages. He promised he would make himself available to me at a moment's notice. Then he dropped the bomb. He was also Jonas Faraday's banker. He said we would work out the conflict of interest issues when the time came.

I was ushered into the old man's office-den by his housekeeper. Jonas was lean and tall, and surprisingly erect for a man of his age. His eyes were bright, and he still had most of his silver hair, combed neatly back. He was a stately figure of a man, and I found myself hoping I would look this good at anywhere near his age.

When we entered the large room, another man stood and stepped toward me. Jonas immediately introduced him.

"Stanley, this is my son, Gabriel. Gabriel, meet Stanley Copely."

We shook hands, and I was directed to a large, leather wing chair at a conference table.

The housekeeper entered and served coffee and a selection of cookies. With the introductions and some small talk out of the way, Jonas decided to get to the reason for the meeting.

"Stanley, for the past three years, I have been selling off some development property I own in order to raise the cash to quietly buy back some of the F & C stock I surrendered nearly ten years ago. It was a bad decision on my part, and I regret it to this day. However, I have now recaptured a sizeable amount, and with my son's shares, we are almost in majority ownership. With a couple of votes from some of the minority shareholders, we would be in complete control of Faraday and Crosse once more.

"Should we accomplish that, it would allow me to set the company back on a course toward rebuilding its reputation, as well as its profitability. The business is losing money as you might have suspected, but not so much that it can't be salvaged with some astute moves. That's where Gabriel comes into the picture," he finished, nodding to his son.

"I've been in the venture capital business for some years now," the younger Faraday began. "By and large, my partners and I have been very successful at finding weak businesses and restoring them. In almost every case, the key ingredient has been to find the right people to run them. 

"Dad has been trying to get me to step in at F & C, but that wasn't going to happen unless we could secure the majority vote on the board. We've been doing a bit of behind the scenes lobbying, and we are confident we have the required votes to take back control of the company. That's the easy part. What we need is someone who can lead the business back into the black and make it sustainable. That's the hard part," he grinned.

"I've done some poking around and asking some knowledgeable people about the situation and I wanted to bounce some ideas off you. I think you're close enough to the workings still to know what might work and what won't." He paused for a moment to sip his coffee before continuing.

"I don't think the future of F & C is in the manufacture of packaging machinery. It has slipped too far behind the pack of competitors -- many foreign -- to recover without a massive investment in manufacturing machinery, and even then, there's no guarantee we could be competitive. So we decided to look at it from a different angle."

Gabriel paused again, taking another sip of the coffee as he collected his thoughts. I was fascinated at where this conversation was going. 

"I think what might work is a distributorship with assembly and service capability. In other words, we would approach a number of machinery manufacturers to act as their distribution and service arms throughout the U.S. In addition, we would set up a separate business to assemble components into finished machines for these companies. It would be to their benefit as well as ours. It would mitigate import duties, and give them 'American' content. Finally, we would also set up a separate service department that would do what you are doing today. Taking on all comers," he smiled.

I didn't say anything right away, trying to digest just what Gabriel had proposed. My thinking wasn't interrupted as they waited for my response.

"I like parts of it, for sure. I agree, it's probably too late to catch up on our ... your ... own. The question is, how divorced from the distributorship is the service division? Are we ... you ... going to have problems with the manufacturers when we service competitors' equipment?" I was having trouble not thinking of myself as part of this company, and I could see Gabriel and Jonas smiling at my awkwardness.

"Everything has to be above board, but then, I really don't see a big problem," Gabriel noted. "It's in their best interests to have the top service available. They aren't able to provide it, especially from a foreign country that can be thousands of miles from here. Their interest is in selling machines, and that's something that F & C still knows how to do. It's the other parts of the business that are weak; particularly the service end."

Jonas then added his voice for the first time. "That's where you come in, Stanley. I can't think of anyone who is better able to understand the service requirements than you. That includes training, both in-house, and at the customer level. What it will take is leadership. The kind of leadership you showed at Winston Candy on the Helmvac installation."

"I gather you've been talking to Byron Mulliner," I smiled.

"Yes indeed. He gave me chapter and verse about what you accomplished and just how quickly it was done. I saw the machine, and it was pretty damned impressive, considering you had never seen one before."

"Yeah ... well ... I had a bit of luck, along with some good people."

"Mr. Mulliner and his staff think otherwise. But nonetheless, you led by example and got them out of a big jam. That's the kind of leadership that fixing F & C is going to need." He sat back, looking quite satisfied with himself.

"Maybe you'd better spell out what you have in mind. Anything along the lines of investment by me is going to require the advice of my banker. I understand you know him, Jonas – Seth Fielder." 

Both men chuckled. "He's my banker, all right, but he's also a friend. Very progressive young man is Seth. Something like you, I think. That's probably why he has such a high opinion of you, Stanley."

"Yeah. We work well together," I agreed. "So, tell me what you have in mind, please."

"The service business would be owned and operated by you, just as Copely Services is today. In fact, it might be wise to let it remain Copely Services and just continue to expand it the way you have," Gabriel suggested. "You would receive twenty percent of the outstanding F & C shares to complement your investment, and as payment for your company's good will. We stand to gain a lot with your name as president."

I nodded. It didn't sound too adventuresome yet. 

"The component assembly operation would be under your supervision. Our belief is that you can implement the kinds of quality control that will be essential to restore our good name. In return, you would receive a further twenty percent of our F & C shares. Keep in mind that the outstanding shares are about forty-seven percent, so roughly half the total number of shares. The two offerings would then amount to about nineteen percent of the total shares of F & C," Gabriel explained.

"In addition, the success of the company will permit us to offer you further share options as performance bonuses for each of the divisions. Until we know what our valuation of the shares is, I can't tell you specifically what the worth would be, but I can tell you that even at this low ebb in the company's affairs, it is a very handsome amount. Naturally, you would want that substantiated by an independent source to satisfy yourself that it is as represented."

My head was spinning. It was too much, too quickly, but if I understood the gist of it, I hadn't heard where I had to put up my money to get into this plan.

"So ... what do I have to invest to become part of the Faraday and Crosse group?"

"We would want a one hundred thousand dollar bond, to be held in trust for two years. After that, you would have either exited the partnership, or become a fully vested member. You see, we need you more than you need us. Yes, we have to protect ourselves, but we are very confident that you can help us bring our family's company back to life. To make the Faraday and Crosse name mean something again."

"So, really, I'm borrowing a hundred thousand for two years to get almost twenty percent of the company, is that about it?"

Both men smiled. "That's about it, Stan," Gabriel grinned.

I nodded. "I'll have to talk to Seth, of course. He's my money man."

Jonas leaned forward in his chair. "I don't mean to meddle in your affairs, Stanley, but ... Seth and I have already discussed such a transaction in the abstract ... without mentioning names. He's pretty confident that he'd be agreeable if it was the right person." He gave me that satisfied smile once more. I'd been set up, but then again, no harm had been done.

"There are some other considerations that I haven't even thought about. I'm engaged to the production manager at Winston Candy in Charlotte. She has a great job and she's really just getting established there. That's going to influence any decision I make."

"I think I can put your mind at rest on that, Stan," Gabriel said. We intend to sell off all the equipment currently in this plant. This land is very valuable, but taxes are high. There are some attractive options to moving the new F & C to North Carolina. Little of what's on our current shop floor would be needed for a new plant. In other words, the company would relocate to ... oh say ... the Charlotte area," he smiled. He had inherited his father's smile.

"That would make my decision a lot easier," I admitted.

Jonas opened a file folder, took out several pages, and handed them to me. "Here's our proposal in writing. Have a lawyer and Seth look them over. I don't want any misunderstandings, so make sure you know what we are offering and what your risks are before we agree on anything. Just the same, I'm pretty sure you're going to find the terms very advantageous to you. We're interested in having you as a main pillar in the re-birth of Faraday and Crosse. I hope you'll agree."

"Thanks, Jonas ... Gabriel. This is completely unexpected, but exciting at the same time. I do have some questions, though. Do you have time to talk about them?"

"Yes ... but why don't we adjourn to my club for lunch. We can talk there in comfort," Gabriel suggested.

I rode in the back seat with Jonas while Gabriel drove us to a very exclusive businessman's club in the city. It gave me a chance to ask him what he had been doing while the new owners were running the business.

"Gnashing my teeth in frustration. I made a stupid error in judgment about the group that got control of the shares. I thought they would invest in making the company better, but just the opposite was true. F & C was a cash cow, and they were milking it for all it was worth. That's what has put it in the position it now finds itself. They probably would run out the game to the last dime, then declare Chapter 11. I'm determined not to let that happen."

That explained a lot. While a handful of upper management was pulling all kinds of cash out of the business, the rest of the worker-bees were pushed to keep the business going as long as possible. The "belt-tightening" wasn't happening in management, only with the staff and hourly people. I could feel the anger building as Jonas told the story.

"There was a time when I thought it might be best to let it slip into Chapter 11, but I guess my ego got in the way. Our name always represented something solid and secure. If we did declare bankruptcy, it would damage that reputation severely, and make it that much more difficult to recover. I've chosen to try and save the company instead," Jonas explained.

As I sat there beside him, I remember why I liked and admired this old man. He was class, through and through. His son seemed to be cut from the same cloth. These were people you could trust and work with. I had a more confident feeling about this proposal, but I would heed their advice and get some expert opinion.

"What about the people still working at the plant? Have you given any thought to that?" I was enjoying an after-lunch ice tea as we picked up our discussion once more.

Gabriel chose to answer. "Yes. Subject to your approval, we would offer relocation to anyone who wished to remain with the company and move to North Carolina. I think you and some of the people you trust could pick out any who might not be appropriate. Those who didn't wish to move would be offered a severance based on years of service. We don't have any idea what percentage of the current employee base that might be." 

"What about the management?" I asked, knowing what I would like to do.

"Well, if I had my way, I'd fire the whole damn lot of them," Jonas spoke up.

Gabriel and I laughed. That was no surprise. 

"They're not all deadwood, Father. Besides, someone has to run the place, and we can't replace them all in a day. We'll have to take it one at a time, wouldn't you say, Stan?"

"Yeah. One at a time. Do you know where we can rent a set of public stocks?"

That brought a round of laughter and broke some of the tension. I was now immersing myself into this company, and I hadn't signed anything yet. I was feeling like I wanted this to work; not just for me, but for the Faradays, and the employees. Once more, I was at a crossroads, and I had some decisions to make.

We parted company just after two that afternoon, and I called Seth to see if I could meet with him. He must have anticipated my call, because he said to come right over. When I finished his call, I called Carmen. Teresa answered and I asked her for an appointment with Carmen ASAP, explaining what was happening. She said she'd call me back as soon as Carmen was back in the office.

Seth had a mile-wide smile on his face when he ushered me into his office.

"Well, what do you think?" he asked, already sensing my enthusiasm.

"I think you should look at these papers and tell me what you think," I shot back at him with a grin.

"Yeah ... sure ... but what I was really asking ... how do you feel about the proposal in general?"

"It sounds almost too good to be true. A bond in return for almost twenty percent of the company? There doesn't seem to be much at risk for me, Seth."

"Keep in mind, they need your reputation. When you left F & C, it was the only equity you had, but it was huge. Look how quickly your business took off when you went out on your own. Your customers knew who did the work and who they could depend on. All you've done since then is prove that you're everything your reputation says you are. That's the asset that Jonas wants and needs to make his plan work."

"What do you know about Gabriel?"

"A chip off the old block, to quote a stale saying. He's very sharp, but honest and hard-working. He'll be the big player at F & C, but he'll leave it to you and the other management staff to run the show. He's going to be the next Jonas."

"Am I going to have to worry about him looking over my shoulder all the time?"

"Nope. That's not how he operates. In fact, you're going to have to call him in when you need him. He really believes in letting the people he hires to run the place ... run the place," Seth smiled.

"Okay ... I guess that's all good. So, I take it you're in support of this proposal?"

"Not until I read the proposal in detail, but yes, on the surface of it, you can make this into whatever you want, Stan. It's one of those unique offers that you don't want to look back on ten or so years from now and say 'I wish I had grabbed it.'"

"I'm giving a copy of it to my lawyer, Seth. I'll have her go over it for anything she sees that she doesn't understand or agree to. Might was well dot the i's and cross the t's."

He nodded his agreement. We talked about my move to Charlotte and the upcoming wedding. He'd received his invitation and was planning on being there with Jerry, his wife. From there, they were headed to a golf resort south of Myrtle Beach for a week's vacation. Both of them were avid golfers.

When I left the office, I checked my cell for messages and there was one from Teresa. Carmen could see me at four-thirty that afternoon if I could make it, otherwise, tomorrow at one-thirty. I checked my watch and saw that I could just make it this afternoon if I hustled. I called Teresa and confirmed the four-thirty appointment.

Teresa joined Carmen in her office as I laid out the offer that Jonas and Gabriel Faraday had presented. They were surprised and congratulated me on the opportunity. Carmen promised to review it this week and would be back to me by Friday afternoon with a written summary and comments. Teresa was all smiles as she remembered my decision all those months ago to start my own business and how uncertain I was. It had all changed, and changed very quickly. 

I called Sue and let her know what had transpired, and that I was going to make a couple of stops before I headed back to Charlotte on Friday evening. It was nearing Christmas and my bookings were predictably dropping off, allowing me some valuable time to shop and to spend with my lady. I got no objection from Sue, although we both wished we would be together to celebrate this new surprise.

I called Carmen from Minneapolis, and essentially she told me she didn't see anything about the proposed agreement that looked risky or unusual. In fact, she said the language was very straightforward and certainly couldn't have been written by a lawyer. That brought a laugh from both of us. I thanked her and told her I would be signing the agreement and forwarding it back to Jonas Faraday early next week.

I arrived back at our home just before eight on Friday evening. I was tired, not so much from the work and travel, but from the tension and excitement of this latest development in my strange new life. It seemed so unreal that I could be in this situation when not that long ago, I was in despair and angry with my circumstances. How quickly things can change.

Sue greeted me at the door and I got the welcome home I so looked forward to. I relaxed on the sofa, a glass of wine in one hand, and my arm around my lady. My sock feet were up on the coffee table while I let a sigh of contentment escape. It was wonderful to be able to relax and enjoy each others' company. I felt completely at peace with Sue by my side. 

"Well, are you going to tell me what Carmen said?" Sue needled.

"Sure. She said don't touch it with a barge pole." I tried to sneak a look at Sue's expression, but got caught. My reward was a punch in the arm, fortunately not the one attached to the hand holding the wine glass.

"Come on. Give!" I think she already knew what the answer was just from my trying to kid her.

"She fine with it. Now, the rest is up to us."

"Us? It's your future, Stan. It should be your decision." She seemed to be serious, which I found a bit strange, considering.

"I wouldn't think of agreeing to something this important without your okay. We're a team, Sue. We do things together ... especially big things like this. We both have to agree that this is right for both of us."

She wore a deadly serious gaze as she absorbed my last statement. Then, I saw her face relax, followed by the beginning of a smile. She buried her face in my chest, and I could feel the warmth seep through my shirt. I was sure I hadn't hurt her feelings.




Tipping Point Ch. 10



"I love you, Stan. I love you so much. You make me so happy that you love me too. I only want you to be happy. Whatever you decide, I'm okay with it, as long as you're happy," she mumbled into my chest.

"Right now, Sue, everything in my little world is going right. I don't exactly know why, but it seems that everything is coming up in my favor. Best of all, I have you as my partner. It wouldn't mean much if it was just me. It means everything that you're here to share it with."

I felt her head nodding, but she didn't reply. After a while, she lifted her head and looked into my eyes. She smiled and reached up to pull my head down and kiss me. A deeply passionate, loving, kiss. "I'm so lucky. I waited such a long time for just the right man, and now he's here. I'm so lucky," she repeated, kissing me again.

I never did finish the wine. It was there on the coffee table the next morning. We made our way to the bedroom and I slowly undressed her, then joined her in our bed and made love to her. It was slow and passionate and complete. We fell asleep in each other's arms and awoke in the same embrace. I couldn't think of a more perfect way to end the week.

The wedding was a wonderful affair. Sue had chosen a small chapel on the south side of Charlotte. The pastor was young and enthusiastic, with a modern non-traditional service in mind. When Sue and I read it, we were both in favor. It said all the important things that we wanted to say to each other. 

Sue's daughter, Elizabeth, was home from Europe and I met her for the first time. She was a delightful young lady, excited that her mother had found someone at last. She had heard a lot about me, but when we met, I was pleased that she was so easy to like. She was to be Sue's maid of honor.

Sue was stunning in her white wedding dress and Tommy, my best man, gasped when he saw her walk slowly down the aisle on her father's arm. I was almost overcome with emotion as she stopped by my side and looked lovingly at me. I know I heard the service and answered the questions, but for the life of me, I can't remember it happening. I must have been in a trance. Luckily, somehow it all came together, and when I kissed her at the end of the ceremony, I had what I had desired ... my bride, Susanna Maria Copely.

The reception was in the church hall, next door to the chapel. Almost everyone we invited had come; some from many miles away. The wonderful food and drink supplied through the church was the catalyst to get everyone socializing. When the dancing began early that evening, I took Sue out onto the floor, praying I didn't embarrass myself with my almost non-existent skills. Apparently, I passed the test. I didn't step on my new bride's toes even once. 

Our honeymoon was a week on Cape Cod. Jonas had a time-share condominium in Falmouth that he given us as a wedding gift. We were overwhelmed with his generosity, and I wonder just how I could properly thank him for everything he had done for us. His simple reply was that he would be more than amply rewarded if I restored his family business just as we had discussed. It was a strong incentive, and I was highly motivated to repay his confidence.

Sue and I were absorbed in our careers, of course. We were working hard, but had made a pact early on that we would find time for ourselves, and not let the business run us. We were taking our vacations one or two days at a time. During the summer, we spend a long weekend at Kitty Hawk, another in Washington, D.C., and in the fall, a trip to Charleston, South Carolina. They were small breaks, but important ones for both of us.

The resurrection of Faraday and Crosse was a challenge, to say the least. As Jonas predicted, he had enough shares to regain control of the company, but the existing management didn't go down without a fight. One by one they were eliminated as we found new people to take their places, or reorganized to merge jobs together. When the blood-letting was done, only three of the original eight management team were left, and they were in all new positions.

Gabriel, or Gabe, as I had been asked to call him, was the C.E.O., and as Seth had predicted, he was a pleasure to work for. We both understood our roles and I found him easy to talk to when I needed advice. I had been appointed Chief Operating Officer, with responsibilities for Copely Services Division and the newly created Copely Assembly Division. There were times when I felt I was in over my head, but with the help of an outstanding controller and Gabe, I muddled through, learning as I went.

It took over eight months to convince six machinery manufacturers to put their product in our hands. In addition, they were reluctant to have us assemble their machines in our plant, but when we put on a demonstration of our process and the quality checks we implemented, one by one they decided to at least allow us to assemble some test machines. 

What turned the tide was the customer feedback. We were selling their machines and installing them fault-free. They had been tested in our plant before shipping, setting them up with the actual packaging materials they would be using in their plants. We were able to substantially reduce installation time and crew training on the shop floor. It was money in the bank to our customers, and for our suppliers.

The Copely Services side now had seven full-time service technicians, including two in the far west. The new general manager was Dody Whitmarsh. I had offered her some of my shares to give her a sense of ownership in the business. It was a big thing to her, and with her new husband Curtis' support, I felt she would be a long-term employee.

I was no longer on the road unless I was needed for a special installation, or problem solving. I spent most of my time developing training for our customers and enjoyed that part of it a great deal. The real benefit, however, was that I was home with Sue most nights. I couldn't remember how many years it had been since I could say that. 

Sue continued to grow and shine as production manager in the Winston Candy operation. There was talk of a promotion to plant manager, but Sue was reluctant for two reasons: it would probably mean a move, and she was happy in the job she was doing. She'd been there less than three years, and felt she was still learning. I was immensely proud of her, but told her that her career was her decision. Whatever she decided in the future, I could adapt.

The bond had been repaid, and I had received some additional shares for the performance of Copely Services. Copely Assembly had yet to really get going, but I felt we were on the right track, and it would be a case of word getting around that we were good at what we did, and could be trusted with almost any type of equipment. It was really just a matter of time.

Tommy and Jilly married the next Spring, just as we always knew they would. Tommy had received his diploma from South Ohio Tech, and was working with a group of "nerds and geeks" as he called them. They were developing a new security system for the state government, thanks to a contact one of their group had. It wasn't producing any money yet, but the promise of a long-term contract and the status with other state government offices would be very valuable in the future.

Jilly was the main breadwinner, working for a large paint company in their marketing and advertising department. She loved the job and was doing well. She was actively encouraging Tommy with his project, knowing that it would be a while before it would return any rewards, but she had faith in her young husband, and they were happy together. That's all any parent could wish for.

I see Sylvia now and then, usually when we are at something related to Tommy. It might be a birthday, or Thanksgiving, or just a summer barbeque. I try and get to Cincinnati at least once a quarter so I don't lose touch with my son and daughter. 

Sylvia has finished her therapy, and is apparently dating someone. She seems so much more composed and happy than before. I feel sad on occasion that what we had disappeared, but I wouldn't give up my new life with Sue for anything. I would never say this to Sylvia, but Sue taught me what real love is. As a wise man once said; "You don't know what you don't know." Now, I do. 

END



My thanks to ErikThread and DaveT for their editing and technical expertise. Any errors are mine.