Chapter 37 — What He Could Promise

By the time Jill called, Focus Man had been at the office for nearly three hours and had already decided that the meeting would go well.

The prospective customer had brought two people with him, both carrying folders thick enough to suggest serious interest. Ellen had arranged coffee. Tom had checked the demonstration before anyone arrived. There were questions to settle, but they were questions about how to proceed, and Focus Man had spent enough years in business to recognize the difference.

His telephone rang while he was explaining the work that would need to be done before delivery. He glanced toward his office, where the sound carried through the open door, then continued speaking. Someone would take a message.

The customer listened, made a note, and asked whether they could have the system ready by the date he had written at the top of his page.

Focus Man looked at it. Beside him, Tom shifted in his chair.

“We’d have to move some other work,” Tom said.

The customer understood that. He also had people to train and a business that couldn't remain indefinitely between its old arrangements and the new ones. If they could meet the date, he was prepared to proceed.

Focus Man asked several questions. As the customer answered, he began dividing the work into pieces and fitting people to them. He knew where the difficulties would be. He could see which decisions would come back to him and which parts he would probably end up doing himself. The schedule took shape readily enough, including evenings nobody had yet agreed to work.

“We’ll review it together,” he said. “I’ll get back to you.”

The customer looked mildly surprised, then closed his folder. They agreed on a day for the answer. Focus Man walked the visitors to the door and returned to the conference room, where Ellen was gathering the cups.

“That sounded promising,” she said.

“It did.”

Tom remained seated, studying the date.

“We can probably do it.”

Focus Man looked at the figures in his notebook. “Probably.”

“We’ll need you involved.”

“I know.”

In his office, he found the message from Jill beside the telephone. His sister rarely called during the working day unless there was something to arrange. Since their mother had moved into the household she shared with Dave and their children, there had been more arrangements than Focus Man knew about. He called her before sitting down.

“How’s Mom?”

“Tired today. She’s resting.”

Jill needed someone to stay with their mother the following Tuesday afternoon. There was an appointment she couldn't move, and Dave would be at work. She explained the hours, then stopped.

“Would you be able to come?”

Focus Man pulled his calendar toward him. Tuesday was crowded, though one meeting could probably be moved. The other involved people coming from out of town. He looked at the space between them, calculating travel time.

“What time would you need me there?”

She told him again.

He turned back to the notes from the customer meeting. If they took the job, those days would become more difficult still.

“I don’t think I can get away that early.”

“All right.”

“Could I come later?”

“That wouldn’t cover it.”

He waited, hoping there might be another way to arrange the afternoon.

“I’ll ask around,” Jill said.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. I need to get it settled.”

She wasn't angry. She sounded occupied, as she often did when she called from home. He could hear a cupboard closing and someone asking where something had been put.

“If you can’t find anyone, call me back,” he said.

“I will.”

After they hung up, he left the calendar open. He considered calling one of the people involved in Tuesday’s meeting, then decided to wait until he knew whether Jill could find someone. He had offered to help if the other arrangements failed. For the moment, there was work in front of him that needed doing.

That afternoon, Tom began outlining the customer’s requirements on the conference-room whiteboard. Several people gathered with him. Focus Man joined them, answered a question, and soon had a marker in his hand.

They found a simpler way to handle one requirement and identified another that would need more attention. These were people whose judgment he trusted. He enjoyed hearing a suggestion develop as it passed from one person to another. When someone saw a difficulty he had missed, he felt the familiar satisfaction of having brought the right people together.

Then they began assigning the work.

His name appeared beside several items. None of the assignments surprised him. He knew those parts of the system, and explaining them to someone else would take time the schedule didn't allow. He stood looking at the board while Tom worked through the remaining tasks.

A few weeks earlier, they had laughed together over a lunch that had gone wrong. He had come home with stories about them, pleased by the afternoon and by how easily their old familiarity had returned. Now they were doing useful work, with a customer ready to pay for it. He had been hoping for something like this.

He picked up his notebook and copied the assignments.

Near the end of the day, he called Jill again.

“Did you find someone for Tuesday?”

“Dave’s taking the afternoon.”

“Will that work?”

“He’s arranged it.”

“Good.”

He heard how relieved he sounded and added, “Tell him I appreciate it.”

“I will.”

Jill gave him an update about their mother, including a small improvement he was glad to hear. He asked whether she wanted a visit that weekend. She said to call first, because some days were better than others.

On the drive home, he tried to work out why the customer’s offer had left him feeling so little of what he had expected. The work was within their ability. It might lead to more. They had spent months pursuing opportunities less substantial than this one.

At a red light, he opened his notebook on the passenger seat and looked at the assignments. His name appeared four times. He closed it when traffic began moving.

Claire was home before him. She had changed out of her work clothes and was standing at the counter, cutting vegetables. He told her about the customer while taking off his coat.

“They’re ready to go ahead,” he said.

“That’s good.”

“Yes.”

She looked up at him. “You don’t sound very pleased.”

“I am. It’s a good job.”

“What would it mean for you?”

“A lot of time at the office.”

“For how long?”

He described the delivery date, then the work that would follow it. There would be installation, training, changes they hadn't anticipated. Once the customer was settled, he should be able to ease back.

Claire put down the knife.

“How long have we been saying that?”

He leaned against the counter. “A while.”

She returned to the vegetables, but more slowly now. He told her about Jill’s call and Tuesday afternoon.

“Could you have moved something?” she asked.

“Possibly. Dave’s handling it.”

Claire nodded. She knew little about the daily arrangements at Jill and Dave’s house beyond what he told her. She had met his mother, and she asked about her, but she hadn't been present for most of the illness. He had been relieved to keep the visits and conversations manageable for everyone, including himself.

“They’ve been very good,” he said.

“Yes.”

He waited for her to say more. Instead she gathered the vegetables into a bowl.

“I don’t want us to keep postponing the conversation about where we want to live.”

“The mountains?”

“That’s part of it.”

He looked toward the window. The Bay was still visible beyond the reflections of the kitchen.

“We’ve talked about it.”

“We’ve talked about going back for another week.”

There was no accusation in her voice, but he felt himself preparing an answer. They had good jobs. They had a home they liked, friends they would miss, and no work waiting for them in the mountains. Every objection was true. He had used them often enough that Claire could probably have supplied the list herself.

“What are you thinking?” he asked.

“I’m thinking I’d like to know whether we mean it.”

He stayed against the counter while she carried the bowl to the stove.

“I don’t want to quit and then discover we liked it because we were on vacation.”

“Neither do I.”

“We’d both be giving up a great deal.”

“I know what my job is.”

He looked at her. She had worked hard to reach her position, and when she spoke about leaving, he tended to remind her of things she knew better than he did.

“Do you still like it?”

“Sometimes very much.”

He nodded.

“But I’m tired of getting home with whatever is left,” she said. “I’d like us to look at another life while we still have enough energy to want one.”

He thought of the drive home, the notebook beside him, his name written four times. There had been years when those assignments would have reassured him. He was needed. There was work ahead. He would have begun before anyone asked whether he could.

“Mom’s another consideration,” he said.

Claire turned down the heat beneath the pan.

“Yes.”

“I’d be farther away.”

“What are you able to do for her now?”

He didn't answer immediately. She waited, then moved past him to get the plates. He took them from her and carried them to the table.

They ate without settling anything. Claire told him about a conversation at her own office, and he listened. Later they returned to the mountains, speaking about ordinary days there: groceries, winter roads, how they would earn money, what each of them would do when the other was busy. They had no answers to several of the questions. For once, he let those remain open.

After dinner, he called his mother. Jill brought her to the telephone, and he heard the receiver change hands.

“How are you?”

“Better tonight.”

They talked about her day. She asked about work, and he told her a customer might be coming in. She was pleased for him. He began to explain the job, then shortened the account and asked whether she had been able to sit outside.

“For a little while. Jill brought my chair out.”

“That’s good.”

He could hear something happening elsewhere in the house. His mother paused to listen, then told him one of the children was looking for a schoolbook.

“I’ll let you go,” he said.

She wished him a good night. Jill came back on the line long enough to say goodbye, and he nearly asked again about Tuesday. The arrangement was already made. He thanked her instead.

The next morning, Focus Man arrived before the others involved in the proposal. He sat with the plan and read it through. It was good work. He could still see how they might accomplish it, and he could imagine being satisfied with the result.

When Tom and Ellen arrived, he asked them to sit down.

“I need to tell you something before we answer the customer.”

Tom put his coffee on the table.

“I can’t commit to the hours we’ve put against my name.”

Ellen glanced at the papers. “Is it the schedule?”

“Partly.”

“We can look at the date again.”

“It’s more than the date.”

He explained that he and Claire were considering leaving the Bay Area. Saying it in the conference room felt different from saying it at home. Tom looked down at the plan, then back at him.

“Have you decided?”

“No.”

“How soon will you know?”

“I can’t tell you that yet.”

Tom leaned back. Focus Man could see him reviewing the conversation from the day before, the assignments, the work they had assumed he would take.

“You helped make this plan.”

“I did.”

“We needed to know.”

“Yes.”

He let the answer stand. Ellen drew the proposal toward her and began asking which commitments they could make with certainty. The discussion was careful and, at moments, uncomfortable. Focus Man stayed for all of it.

Later, alone in his office, he opened the following Tuesday in his calendar. Both meetings were still there. He picked up the telephone and called Jill.

“I can come Tuesday evening,” he said. “Would that give you and Dave a chance to go out?”

She considered it.

“We’d probably stay home. There’s plenty to do here.”

“All right.”

“What time?”

He looked at the end of his working day and allowed for the drive.

“Six.”

Jill asked him to bring his own dinner if he wanted to eat; she couldn't be sure what their mother would feel like having. He wrote that beside the appointment while she told him where they would leave the instructions. After they hung up, he went back to the customer’s proposal. The calendar remained open beside it.