Chris was already underpaid compared to his peers and now PW instituted a salary freeze for at least half the year. He was still young in his career, though, and so he wasn’t used to moving from job to job on speculation that things were better elsewhere. He had spent five years at Ernst and Young; probably two years too many of the sixty-hour workweeks. He said it was experience that kept him there, but in fact it was fear. Now he had come to the same spot. He was leaving PW. Chris had a couple of second interviews lined up so it was all, but done, though he’d been quiet with his co-workers.
The crisp energy of springtime in New England would have permeated to PW if the staff had windows out of which to look - management offices rimmed around the outside of the building. A heap of cubicles caught the remainder of the staff in the middle of the floor. Rows of cubes all set up the same way like a phalanx that can bring the people closer together or destroy them all with equal speed and efficiency. With the first quarter close completed, the finance team was just trying to clean up like London after the Blitz. Papers with notes scribbled in the corners in multiple sets of handwriting, binders left open to chapter and verse, boxes brimming with old reconciliations, and post-it notes artistically stuck to plastic, but already withering.
Chris was fairly organized so his cleanup had been quick; Lisa less so. They were opposites, which made them work well as an accounting team. He was more serious and reserved. While Chris had come to care for these people and listened to their daily thoughts about work and family, he preferred to keep a level of anonymity. They had met Donna at the summer outing of the previous year and it took them about a month of badgering to finally get Chris to bring her picture into work. It sat guarded in his cube by the square, plastic, pencil holder. Conversely Lisa was an open book for whom, if she had been hiding anything, it couldn’t possibly have been legal or ethical. She, like Chris, grew up in public accounting where succeeding as a woman required certain allowances for boys’ club activities. As years pass it has become more equal, but maybe she was just born a little bit brash. Lisa was about ten years older than Chris, and, given her stories of growing up in ratty Dorchester in the 1970s and 1980s he couldn’t figure out how two people with such divergent paths could both wind up in the same spot.
It’s hard to unwind after the late nights of a quarter end. People who have spent years doing taxes during the busy season have restless minds, especially during the spring. When deadlines end there is suddenly less work and the days drag. PW management didn’t allow music in the office so Chris and others had taken to using their iPods. At times one would think they were walking through the basement storage of a library with file cabinets and cubes, staring at each other silently. Every few minutes a beep would sound from someone swiping their security badge to enter the office met with the metal tap of the door closing again, but it would all just fade into the office ether. Occasionally a completely discordant noise would shake everything out of its torpor. Ears would perk up when it was obvious You-Tube was involved, proven by the raucous laughter. Soon management would be on the scene because they want to be part of the team and laugh as well, but they can’t. It’s not in their job description.
Eventually the afternoon finally ends. For some the whistle blows at exactly 5:00 when the four-note tone of Microsoft computers shutting down ripples throughout the office. Others, like accounting, who have been trained to be most efficient, hang on until they find the proper breaking point. For Chris on a nothing Wednesday that time was 5:20. He said goodbye to Lisa which, as usual, turned into an unnecessary conversation about how busy she was or about how much they were getting done. When he finally got down to the lobby and saw that it was still light out, his mind relaxed. After pushing through the revolving doors he could feel that it was colder out than it looked even with the fading sun shining. Chris sent a quick text to Donna to let her know he was on the way. He always noticed the same cars parked in Lot E each day. At least somebody else saw the value in keeping to habit.
Chris Mackey and Donna Catcher moved in together in November. She had been living in Tewksbury in an apartment by herself. Break-ins had increased a bit with the economy in a tailspin and her landlord was generally sleazy so it was an easy solution for them to come together. Plus the relationship simply demanded this next step. He enjoyed that the house actually looked somewhat fresh given that he had a partner now to help keep it clean. The paint on the outside was a faded, peeling crimson red and the cornices had chipped a bit after some tough winters, but it was a good location with a garage and room enough for two. Now there were flowers on the sills where dust used to advertise space. Both Chris and Donna were pleased with the situation and seemed to get along in this new phase of the relationship.
When he got home that evening she was sitting on the couch. Her long brown hair in its tired repose was beginning to reach for the arm of the couch. As he put his bag down she was startled a little bit, but played it cool by transforming the jump in her shoulders into a full stretch towards the ceiling with her fingers before a slow leaning flop back onto the seat of the couch.
“Man, I’m tired,” she said, muffled by the cushions.
“I hear ya,” he said because that’s what you’re supposed to say.
“Whaddya thinking for dinner?” he said while placing his jacket on the kitchen chair.
“Ice cream?” she exclaimed with glory in her eyes.
“Nah, I gotta eat something somewhat healthy. How about a salad? I’ll put cheese on it. It will be wonderful.”
As Chris looked in the refrigerator he heard her slide along the tiles to put away his jacket. It made him smirk a little bit. He reached down for the lettuce and turned it. Chris wasn’t sure a new job would freshen up his produce, but everything gets stale if it sits around long enough. Staring at the brown spots, he asked, “So, how about some ice cream?”
Chapter 2
-Let’s not spin our wheels-
Thursday, April 9, 2009
Come Thursday morning all of the important managers were in a mess of meetings. With corporate simplification in full development mode, it had become a running joke that the Chief Financial Officer wouldn’t notice if someone stole the muffin that seemed to sit on his desk until lunchtime most days. Similar to SoundTech, PW had made a few strategic acquisitions over the years in the US. The simplification plan, ‘The Squeeze,’ as the employees called it, would require a shut-down of the corporate offices of the sister companies in Sacramento, Houston, and Nashville. Offers had already been made to the people whom they wanted to bring to Massachusetts. The remainder were given severance packages and laid to rest. At least their career was killed near their home and they were not relocated to be executed.
Few accepted the transition. These new positions were to start by May 1st. While there was tempered excitement about getting some fresh blood in the office, with the managers especially ringing this news far and wide, there was also some trepidation from the old SoundTech crew who legitimately believed that their identity would be polished away.
“This PW Peter kind of looks like a child molester,” explained Lisa.
“Ugh, what!!??” Chris chimed in, not actually surprised.
“You know, PW Peter from this crap that corporate HR sends around or corporate somebody talking about our great plans for the next quarter. Nothing says corporate like corny cartoon characters.”
She started into a quasi-Cockney accent.
“A-low, moi name is Peda, Peda File, and oi luv PW products. Oi also luv children.”
“Oh man,” Chris replied. “You ripped that off ‘IT Crowd’, didn’t you?”
“Yes, but I’ve been given full authority by the president of this company to make you laugh by any means possible, copyrights be damned.”
“We’re meeting at the Nines tonight. ESO! Are you going