Flash Flood (2 page)

At last she understood. Fred had no choice. Selling Flash was killing him as much as it tormented her. The realization caused her to choke back sobs.
I’m so selfish. All I’m thinking
about is my own problems
. “I apologize,” she whispered. “I’ve been wallowing in self-pity over the buyout and forgetting what this company really means to you.”

“Alina, I sincerely don’t know who will have a job and who won’t.”

“Of course.” She reached for the doorknob. “I’ll save the rest of my questions for Friday. I’m really sorry.” Without another word, she left the room and walked down the hall to her office.
Neon Interchange. I hope they’re not out to bleed the life out of everyone here. I’m scared, really scared
.

The people of Radisen had gotten along just fine without all the extras. Why start now? They were a small town with good country folk as customers. A rash of new indignation surged through her body. She wanted to tell every one of those citizens that their demands had forced a family-owned business into a buyout—and placed a wonderful man’s health at risk. Fred’s work schedule resembled the hours of two men half his age. He knew every facet of the business and had the customers’ files memorized. His tireless work in the community—from volunteering his time and money, making donations to worthwhile charities, and visiting shut-ins at the hospital on Sunday afternoon—was a part of Fred Lineman.

Alina wanted to fix it all. The thought of her friends losing their source of income made her ill. Maybe if they all supported Fred and demonstrated optimism, Neon might decide to keep them all. For starters, she’d send a mass e-mail to all the employees urging them to work together as a team.

She stopped at Deidre’s desk. “I’m springing for lunch today—for everyone in the office. Order out for pizza. I refuse to allow bad attitudes to spread in here like poison ivy.”

“Your discussion with Fred must have paid off.”

“Not exactly. I’ve been hit with a case of guilt for my insensitive response to Fred. He deserves better than my sarcasm—even if I don’t end up with a job.”

Monday, 6:00 p.m
.

Once Alina left work for the day, she drove to visit Anna in the picturesque facility for the mentally challenged. The drive to the home, nestled in southern Ohio, featured winding roads lined with oak and pine trees. She munched on a grilled chicken sandwich and fries while she enjoyed the passing scenery. The setting always relaxed her and took the spin off the day’s hectic pace, but this evening was especially hard. She tried to relax her hold on the steering wheel while envisioning spring wildflowers in the weeks ahead instead of the snow that was piling up at the sides of the road.
March—in like a lion, out like a lamb
, drifted across her mind.

She pressed the window button and let the cool air bathe her face.
Freeing
best described the sensation, as though all her troubles had vanished. No longer was she Alina Marlow, business executive, sometimes sharp and sometimes temperamental, the woman who worked overtime without pay and battled servicemen to fill work orders. Here, whizzing down the road with the wind blowing back her hair, she almost believed her world had been liberated from problems.

A sign indicating the turnoff for Homeward Hills prompted Alina to take a right. She reached for the stuffed rabbit on the seat beside her. Anna loved soft things. She’d cuddle them to her cheek and giggle. Sweet Anna … Her oblivion to reality seemed like a blessing. Anna had not progressed since the date of her accident when the girls were three years old. In many ways she’d digressed even younger, and childhood toys and treats pleased her the most.

A few moments later, Alina parked her car in the visitor area and snatched up Anna’s rabbit. A chill wrapped around her with the sun settling into the west, and she pulled her coat tighter. All of the day’s happenings suddenly washed over her like threatening storm clouds. Spring was supposed to be the season of hope and the anticipation of new life, but not this year, not with Neon taking over Flash Communications. For the moment, Alina felt reasonably secure in her job.
I’m practically indispensable
. She cringed at the thought. How futile.

At times like these, she envied those who lived inside the rustic-looking facility, without the bothersome worries plaguing the rest of the world. The lodge effect, with the abundance of trees, gave comfort to those who had loved ones dwelling there.

The elderly receptionist inside Homeward Hills greeted Alina by name. “Your sister is in the group room.”

“Thanks. I’ll find her.” At the entrance of the huge area designated for games and visitation, Alina stood in the doorway and watched a staff member feed her sister applesauce. In addition to her obvious mental challenges, Anna spent her waking hours in a wheelchair and was slowly going blind in her left eye.

Her dark-haired twin made laughing sounds. Anna’s speech lacked many words, but Alina had learned to distinguish what many of her sister’s vocalizations meant. At first, she didn’t want to disrupt her sister’s snack. Anna looked serene, almost radiant in her childlike mannerisms. The top and sides of her long, wavy hair, thick like Alina’s, had been brushed back and captured in a ponytail. Anna glanced up, and a wide smile spread across her face.

Alina strode across the room and embraced the joy of her existence. “Hey, pretty girl,” she said. “I’m so glad to see you.”

Anna giggled, then turned to the attendant and opened her mouth for another bite of applesauce.

“I’d like to feed her,” Alina said.

The attendant nodded and kissed the top of Anna’s head before relinquishing the plastic spoon to Alina. Her sister’s eyes widened, and she attempted to clap her hands. Alina pulled a chair next to her sister. “Oh, my sweet, sweet girl. I love you so much.”

Tuesday, 7:45 a.m
.

Every Tuesday morning at Flash began with a Bible study before work. Alina had never known Fred to miss one, until today. Once again the boardroom filled with employees, but the normal hum and laughter had vanished since yesterday’s session. Donuts sat untouched on the table. Perhaps these were left over from yesterday.

“I think I’ll pass on Bible study.” James reached for the coffee. “Not into it today.”

Alina searched for words to encourage and persuade the man. “I’m not in the mood either. I don’t think any of us are, except now is the time when we do need to delve into God’s Word.”

James crossed his arms over his thick chest. “Who’s leading it? You?”

Before Alina could answer, Deidre cleared her throat. “Fred phoned me last night and asked me to take over this morning,” she said. “And since I didn’t have time to prepare, I thought we’d read Psalm 139 and do prayer requests.”

“They’d all be the same request,” James said.

“Maybe so.” Deidre poured a cup of coffee and opened the donut box. “And if that’s the case, we can all pray for each other.”

Most of the group stayed, except James and a woman from accounting.

“I understand how they feel,” Alina said a few moments later, “because I’m angry, too. The idea of praying for the Neon executive with Fred makes me physically ill. He’s charting our future, and we’re nothing more than names and numbers.” She took a deep breath. “But I will do what pleases God—and pray my attitude improves.”

“I caught a glimpse of him in Fred’s office,” Deidre said. “He didn’t look like the enemy.”

“Satan never does.”

Friday, 8:00 a.m
.

Alina thought she’d burst before Friday’s meeting with the executive from Neon Interchange. Fred and Mr. In-Charge had met somewhere away from Flash for the past three days, which thoroughly infuriated her. She wanted to size up this fellow and make her own observations before the meeting. In truth, she wanted an opportunity to corner him about a few pertinent matters—like job stability for herself and the others.

“Thirty minutes until the meeting.” Deidre plopped down a cream-filled buttermilk donut and black coffee on Alina’s cluttered desk.

“You’re a doll.” Alina watched the steam rise from the granite blue cup with Flash Communications’ logo stamped on the side. Oh, how she needed the extra caffeine this morning. “You know I can’t resist coffee and a good donut.”

Deidre grinned. “I thought about bringing you stroganoff from last night’s dinner, but Clay ate it all before going to bed.”

“My kind of guy.” Alina licked a dollop of chocolate cream filling from the corner of her mouth. Guilt suddenly assailed her, and she laid the donut on a napkin. “Listen, Deidre, I’ve been a real bear this week.”

“Understandably so,” her friend replied. “This has been rough on all of us.”

“No excuse. I apologize for every time I’ve been short and totally out of line. Please forgive me. That’s not the way friends treat each other, and I claim to be a Christian.”

“It’s okay, really.” Deidre smiled. “Besides, it made for interesting conversation around the dinner table. Clay couldn’t wait to hear the next episode with all the juicy details.”

Alina nearly rose from her chair. “You what?”

“I’m teasing.” Deidre laughed and pushed back her shoulder-length black hair. “But I had you going.”

“Only for a minute.” Alina shook her head. “I was beginning to detest myself. Unfortunately, my resolve to improve my attitude hasn’t been successful.”

“A few more minutes and you’ll have some answers.”

Alina gripped the coffee cup. “Not so sure I want to hear Neon’s plans, but since my job is on the line, I’ll be firing questions and comments left and right.”

“Nothing new there.” Deidre glanced through the window to the outer office area. “There’s Fred, and I recognize the man from Tuesday morning. Come see for yourself. Both are smiling. Good sign.”

Alina moved to the doorway to catch a glimpse of the two men. She shivered, and a moan escaped her lips.
No. This can’t be happening
. “There must be a mistake.”
Ryan Erikson
.

Ryan knew he’d have to face Alina sooner or later. He preferred later. When he learned she worked for Flash Communications and was the key person to assist him through the transition, he wanted to resign and take the first flight out to some desolate place in northern Russia. At the sight of her, the past six years vanished and the old tug at his heart pounded out his longing. Her dark hair, tucked professionally behind her ears, and her glowing complexion were reminders of her love for the outdoors. Instantly he found himself propelled back to another time, and his emotions surfaced. Striking as ever. She lifted her chin. Challenging as ever. He caught her attention, and even from a distance, he felt the coldness. The idea of battling her bitterness over this takeover left a vile taste in his mouth. He remembered her stubbornness and the pent-up little girl inside. He also remembered the good times between them. Someday he’d confront her as to why she broke off their relationship. But not today.

Today he’d present Neon’s business arrangement to the employees of Flash Communications and hope none of them followed him back to his hotel. Their jobs were in jeopardy, their lives about to be altered. All of the training Neon Interchange had provided still didn’t prevent the sinking feeling he experienced when he had to break unpleasant news—and do so with professionalism. He didn’t dare let them see how he ached for those who would lose their jobs. How many times had a wife or husband phoned and begged him to reconsider? He could do little but pray for those affected by job loss.