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 Copyright 2002 by DRD Pike

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   Fate's Cruel Jokes

   Chapter Two



   After a third round of screaming, Jim's alarm finally managed to
convince him to retreat from his bed to the relative quiet of the bathroom.
The face which greeted Jim in the mirror was one which had become all too
familiar in the past week.  Grizzled and drawn from the absence of a razor
and even more prominent absence of an appetite, eyes half bloodshot from a
lack of sleep and abundance of drink.  Looking into the shallow reflection
of his hollow eyes, for the first time in two weeks Jim felt something
other then numbness and depression.  He felt anger.  In a brilliant moment
of clarity he knew with absolute certainty that if Jeanette could
physically be with him now her hands would be firmly on his shoulders,
holding on for dear life as she tried desperately to shake his teeth out in
an attempt to get him to come to his senses.  He knew that it would kill
her to see him killing himself in his grief, but he knew not how to find
the strength to do otherwise.



   Half a pot of coffee and ninety minutes later Jim found himself firmly
installed in the leather chair behind his desk.  The drive in had been
easier then he expected, owing more to the routine of the thing then his
own mental state.  It was once he stepped out of his car that things had
become more trying.  Cynthia at reception had let him off with a genuine
condolence and slightly less genuine but nearly to be expected 'if you need
anything...'.  A simple solemn nod of the head and he was on his way, glad
at least to put the first encounter of the day behind him.  The halls
between Cynthia and Jim's office where mercifully quiet this early on a
Monday morning, something Jim had kept well in mind.  He had in fact
crossed paths with only two other people on his way in.  Sam had just
recently been hired, fresh out of high school.  Jim remembered he had a job
running odd errands or something of the sort.  By any means he was a quiet
kid and tended to stay out of people's way, something Jim could understand
and appreciate.  He hadn't escaped quite so unscathed from his second
encounter.



   "Hey, Mr.  Brewer," the voice called out from three doors down as Jim
prepared to enter his office.



   "For the third time in as many weeks Sara, my name is Jim.  Perhaps I
need to start addressing you as Mrs.  Wayland," Jim replied.



   "Well first off buddy, that's Miss Wayland to you, and forgive me for
showing a little respect to a senior vice president, I am after all little
more then a humble and lowly manager in this land of giants," came Sara's
response.



   Jim couldn't help but smile even as he let out an exaggerated sigh, "I
don't know what I'm going to do with you Sara.  A transfer to Antarctica
sounds like a good idea at the moment though."



   "Might I then call to your attention that we don't have any facilities
in Antarctica?"



   "Well damn, the best laid plans....  I guess I'll just have to put up
with you then."



   "I guess you will at that," She looked at him with a smile shining in
her eyes and hinting at her lips before continuing, "have a nice day Jim."



   "You too Sara, you too."



   As Jim sat going over memos and staring at the daunting pile of papers
marked 'IN' he couldn't help but be thankful that Sara was the one he ran
into this morning.  Even after having been at Tindell for ten years, Sara
was one of the few people who knew him well enough to realize that hollow
words of comfort would do him no good.  She was one of the handful of
people from the company who had attended Jeanette's funeral, and even then
had never vocalized her condolences.  He knew she would never speak of it,
the look in her tear filled eyes and the hug she had given him after the
service had been more then enough to convey her heartfelt sorrow.  While he
had been smiling thinly and nodding to people paying their respects all
day, feeling her tears for him on his cheek had touched him in a way words,
no matter how honest, never could.  He clung to her like a life raft that
day, and he was very glad she had been there first thing to help lighten
his load yet again.



   It wasn't long before Jim had immersed himself once again in his work,
almost forgetting about everything outside the walls of his office, almost.
At any rate, the morning quickly gave way to lunch time and Jim was less
then surprised to hear a knock on his office door.



   "Hey Jim, Dave and I are going out for lunch.  You're coming."



   "Yea, okay Ron, whatever you say."

   "What?  I'm the boss around here, or so they tell me, that's gotta be
good for something."



   "True, I guess if you can't warp your employees actions and will to
conform to your own there's no point in running a business."



   "Now you've got it.  We leave in ten minutes."



   Lunch was good, a casual affair.  Jim always had to chuckle at the idea
of millionaire business owners eating lunch three days a week in the same
sports bar they had frequented in their college days.  That's the kind of
men Ron and Dave were though, rich men who didn't flaunt it to anyone,
least of all themselves.  Jim did have to admit though that he saw the
appeal of the place, good food, lots of it, and waitresses dressed in
outfits scientifically proven to cause more heart attacks then all the high
cholesterol food on the menu put together.  In short, just the kind of
place Ron and Dave would be sure to love.



   "While the food and the view may be excellent," Dave began, "I'm
guessing you figured we hauled you along to do something other then
overload your taste buds and eye muscles."



   "The thought had occurred to me, yes," came Jim's response.



   "Here's the thing," Ron took over, "and understand this has nothing to
do with Jeanette.  You've been with us since the beginning, you've worked
just as hard to make Tindell work as either of us have, and while you may
not have been blessed with the same exemplary genes and corresponding last
name as us, we both feel we can't exactly hold that against you."



   "What my smart ass brother here is trying to get at, is that for the
past ten years you've been a partner to us in all but title and benefits.
We invited you here to inform you in this most official of settings that
we're here by remedying that oversight."



   "If you want that in English," Ron translated for his brother, "we're
bringing you on as an official owner.  Well, part owner anyhow...  It's a
little complicated with a publicly held company, but you basically end up
owning something like a quarter of the thing.  Lawyer has all the papers
with the specifics, and while it's long overdue we figured on making it
official at the Labor Day picnic in a few months if that's all right with
you.  Give everyone something special to celebrate, especially with now
being a delicate time and all."



   "Yea," Jim responded, "Labor Day sounds fine.  I mean, wow.  I can't say
this is quite what I expected to hear today, but I'm definitely grateful. I
just wish Jeanette had been here to see it, I know she would have been so
happy."



   Ron and Dave shared a look before Ron started, "About that.  I told you
that this had nothing to do with what happened, and it doesn't, but the way
we're telling you now does have something to do with it."



   "I know you figured the dinner we were supposed to have at Sergio's that
Friday night was for Ron's birthday, and it was.  It was also supposed to
be the night we told you about your new stake in the company.  Well, you
know how the old wives network runs, and when Lynn called Jeanette to tell
her about the dinner and to make plans and to plot the domination of the
world or whatever it is women talk about in the bathroom, she couldn't pass
up the chance to tell Jeanette about both the reasons for the dinner.  "



   "She knew, man," Ron paused.  "From what Lynn told me, Jeanette wouldn't
shut up for ten minutes after she found out, screaming and ranting and
carrying on.  She was thrilled for you, she really was.  I'm sorry you
couldn't have found out about this in happier times, and I'm sorry she
couldn't have been here to see the look on your face."



   Jim could barely speak as he nodded and muttered, "So am I, so am I. 
What I can't seem to wrap my mind around is why now?"



   "Well," Ron replied, "it's for a number of reasons.  You already know
it's long overdue, and it's not the only thing.  With all the work building
up the company it's been almost seven years since Dave and I managed to
take the families on an honest to God vacation.  Lynn has always dreamed
about touring Europe, and Stacy was never one to scoff at the idea either.
So, and understand this doesn't leave this table, we decided that come
Christmas the kids will move across town to stay with their respective
grandparents and we're going to go on a little two month tour."



   "Being that both the girls work at the office," Dave picked up, "getting
time off from the boss shouldn't be a problem, but we figured it would be a
bad idea to leave the place in the hands of the peons for so long.  It's
not that we don't trust everyone, you know we're all as good as family. 
Still, with all the blood sweat and tears we've all poured into the place
we'd feel better if there was an owner around to mind the shop.  Not to
mention the fact that it greatly simplifies any contract issues and things
which might arise, heaven forbid."



   "And the fact of the matter is," Ron sighed before continuing, "it was
meant to be a wedding present."



   "It really seemed," Dave said, "like the best solution to a handful of
problems."



   "Yea," Jim replied, "I can see how it would.  I really do appreciate it,
and I'd be proud to accept." He paused to look at his watch before
continuing, "It's getting kind of late though and we should pry be getting
back.  Have Mike let me know about those papers whenever is convenient."



   Distractions abounded and the rest of the day passed quickly enough for
Jim.  Six Thirty saw him out the door with a minimum of fuss and heading
towards home.  As Jim closed the front door behind him his eyes were drawn
to the plaque above the foyer archway reading 'Welcome to our home.' That
hollow feeling returned and he knew it was going to be a long night.  He
had little time for pure despair though as his attention was beckoned to
the hall table and the blinking red light of his answering machine. 
Bracing himself against what he was sure was an all but imminent flow of
pity, he pressed the button.



   "Mr.  Brewer, this is Steve Malack at the DA's office.  I know this is a
hard time for you, but I just wanted to let you know that we tracked down
the guy in the blue Escort that saw your fiance's accident.  He was on some
fishing trip or something.  I know that's of little consolation to you, but
this might be.  Between his testimony and the blood tests the police
performed we've as good as got this guy nailed to the wall.  I know coming
to see the trial would be difficult for you, especially since you won't be
coming anywhere near the stand, but I have to ask that you at least come to
the sentencing.  Victim impact statements have been known to have a pretty
large bearing on the sentencing process.  If you want to come to the trial
it's scheduled to begin in three weeks, nine a.m.  on the morning of the
twenty third.  I'll let you know about the sentencing date as soon as I
find out.  Feel free to call with any questions, you've got our number. 
Have a nice day."



   Jim let out a deep sigh as his head fell back to rest against the
hallway wall.  'Well, that's one less thing to worry about,' he
thought,'now on to the rest of them.'