Regaining My Senses - Chapter One

“Maggie, come with me. You’ll love Chicago, and you’ll certainly be able to pick up a decent job there. You’ll have no trouble renting out this apartment. Then you can hold onto the building as an investment.”

I hadn’t expected this. I was floored. Struggling to collect my thoughts, I flipped the cap off another bottle of beer, forgetting that I’d just opened one for myself.

I stammered, “I can’t leave right now Jim. I’m pushing for. . I mean the Consumer Line Management job is opening up, and I . . . Oh please don’t put me on the spot like this. I have enough on my mind as it is.”

We were having dinner at my place. Jim had brought Philly steak sandwiches, fries, and a six-pack of Killians. He’d been talking enthusiastically about his new job, and I loved seeing how happy it made him. I wasn’t prepared for this sudden turn of events.

Just a few days ago, Jim had proudly announced that he’d accepted an offer from a firm in Chicago. He was to be production manager for a plant that produced high-end bath accessories. He was very excited. It was just the sort of position he had been looking for over the past year. The company was solid and did a lot of international business. The salary offer had been impressive too, 50% more than what he was now earning at Basic Industries.

Jim had kept me posted on his job search, so this came as no big surprise to me. I was really happy for him. Of course, I realized that our relationship would be somewhat curtailed. Sure, we could plan to meet maybe every couple of weeks, depending upon our schedules, but I knew it would never be the same. I didn’t let myself think about Jim meeting new people. There are lots of lovely, exciting women in Chicago.

Then he said, “I know you’re going after the Line Manager job Maggie. I also think you’ll get it, and then there’s no way you’ll leave Basic for at least another couple of years. I had hoped I meant more to you than a job.”

Jim went on to tell me with great feeling how he would miss me and that he didn’t want to let me go. “It’s just hit me Maggie. We’ll be so far apart. I want you in my life. Look, why don’t we get married right now? You can turn in your notice and we’ll move to Chicago together. Look I know we thought things were all settled between us about your career. I know how much your work here at Basic means to you and how hard you’ve struggled to get there, but please, please, don’t throw away what we have together.”

His words touched me deeply, and much to my surprise, tears came to my eyes. At that moment, I truly felt I couldn’t live without his strong arms around me. What would I do when he went away and we could no longer have our special evenings together? Still, part of me was angry with him because although he was completely sincere, it never occurred to him that he had automatically put his career before mine. It never entered his head that maybe he should be the one to sacrifice a career move for my sake. I knew it would be useless to point this out to him. Jim’s mind didn’t work that way. Of course, I also knew it would be ruinous to his future if he turned down this opportunity. Yet I was amazed at how he simply assumed my career could just be brushed aside.

I’d only managed to eat half of my steak sandwich, and my fries were cold now. So I busied myself cleaning up the remains of our take-out supper. Jim’s appetite was unaffected and he’d eaten two Philly steaks and his share of the fries. I was glad for the extra beer I’d opened though because my throat felt awfully dry.
I was at a loss for words, and could only say, “Jim, you’ve taken me by surprise. I don’t know what to say right now. I need some time to think things over.”

The hurt and disappointment showed on his face. He’d expected me to be as enthusiastic as he was and to agree immediately. I felt awful. What could I say to take that look off his face?

“Well Jim, let me think about things. Maybe there’s some way to work things out.”

Now why did I say that? I had no idea how to make this work. Finally, we just held each other, and nothing more was said about jobs, careers, or moving to Chicago. Jim stayed the night. I couldn’t make myself let him go. I needed to hold him close to me. At last, we both slept.

I awoke to hear Jim in the shower. I blinked at the clock. It was only five AM. I hurried into the kitchen and started the coffee.

“Coffee, just what I need. Thanks Maggie.” Jim said briskly as he adjusted his tie.
He was all dressed, looking wide-awake and ready for the day. I, on the other hand, felt like shit.

“Got to get in by six this morning. I want to have all the lines running smoothly before I leave. Look, take a few days to think about things. Talk to you later.”

He poured a generous slug of black coffee into his travel mug, gave me a quick kiss and left. So much for last night’s emotional scene.

I met Jim when I was 28 and energetically trying to make a name for myself in Sales and Marketing. He was a young engineer who had come to Basic Industries right from college with his fresh, shiny degree. Jim was just 22 when we got to know each other. That made me six years older. I laugh to myself when I think how horrified I’d have been about the age difference just a few years before that. He didn’t seem like a kid though, and we hit it off right away.

I had gone out to the plant to confer with the Production Manager about a big order that had to be moved up for one of our major west-coast distributors.
“There’s just no way I can change my production schedule to accommodate a big run like that. You know I’d like to help you out Maggie, but what can I do?” Ken Morgan had no intention of trying to do anything for me that would involve extra effort on his part and gave me the old sob story.

“Look Ken, can’t you at least look over the schedule and see if there are any smaller jobs we can defer for a week or two? I’ll be glad to call those customers myself and try to work something out.” I was getting pretty close to begging.

Then this tall, dark, and handsome guy walked over to us. I guess I must have stared at him because he smiled self-consciously and introduced himself. “I’m Jim Hodges. Just started with Basic last month.”

He offered his hand. It felt rough and warm. Now I was the self-conscious one. What was wrong with me? I lost my train of thought for a moment. I cleared my throat, but before I could speak, Jim said simply, “I looked over the schedule while you and Ken were talking. We can rearrange and juggle some of the smaller orders so that the run of large industrial waste drums can be finished 30 days ahead of the original contract date.”

Ken nodded at Jim, looked at me with a satisfied smile, and said as he walked away, “See Maggie, the crisis is over.”

I found my voice. “Thanks Jim. Let me have the names of those customers whose jobs are getting moved. I’ll call them right away.”

“I’ll do it Maggie if you don’t mind. I want to establish personal contact with our accounts whenever I can. Besides, this is a Production Department call.”

“Sure Jim. How soon will the revised schedule be posted?” I was trying to recover my professional attitude. That was difficult because Jim kept looking straight into my eyes as he spoke.

Another smile. His teeth were very white. “Give me 15 minutes.”

I walked away but couldn’t stop myself from turning around to look at him before I went through the door. He was watching me. This time he looked thoughtful.

In the next couple of weeks I casually asked about the new guy, Jim Hodges. The consensus was that he had a very refreshing attitude for a new engineer. He didn’t hesitate to ask questions of everyone. A lot of new people are afraid to ask, thinking they’re expected to know everything because they have a degree. He fit in well with the plant workers too. He never acted like he was above them, never gave orders, just quietly asked for help and cooperation. Jim didn’t take any crap though, and could tell when somebody tried to brush him off with some stupid excuse.

I heard the story about the plant foreman who thought he’d give Jim a real workout about fixing the conveyor belt over the small bin line. The work involved climbing a ladder to a height of about 12 feet to make some adjustments to the machinery.
Well, the older guy said something like, “It’s too risky to climb up there. What if I fall, and anyway, there’s no time to fix the belt today. Don’t I need an official work order?”

Jim sensed that he was being set up to go running to the plant manager to deal with what was a simple, routine piece of maintenance work, so he said, “Don’t worry Bill. I’ll steady the ladder for you and the guys on your work team will stand around holding a tarp to catch you just in case you lose your balance.”

By that time, most of the guys were laughing, so Bill mounted the ladder and got the job done in ten minutes. After the shift was over, Jim took Bill out for a beer to thank him and the two got along pretty well after that. That’s how Jim was.
You couldn’t help but like him. For some reason, I found him extremely sexy and attractive. I don’t usually have this reaction to men – at least not until I’ve gotten to know them a lot better. That he was six feet of prime male with wavy dark brown hair and darker brown eyes set in a ruggedly handsome face may have had something to do with it.

Well, one thing led to another as they say, and I got to know Jim a whole lot better. However, we’ve always had divergent ideas about where we want to be ten years from now. The understanding was unspoken between Jim and me. Our relationship was for companionship, healthy enjoyment of great sex, and interesting conversation with the certainty of confidentiality. It was what we both needed and wanted at the time. We were both clear on this, and Jim had always planned to leave the area once his respectable five years at Basic was up. Of course, our “clear understanding” went up in smoke somewhere along the line, and now we find ourselves muddling through the heartaches of conflicting careers and different ideas about the roles of men and women.

But let me introduce myself. I’m Margaret Mary McCauley, but for as long as I can remember everyone has always called me Maggie. I’m 33, a five foot nine Clairol blonde with hazel eyes. I used to hate being that height though. Depending upon whom I was standing next to, I used to sort of lean over, trying to seem shorter than I really was. As though it would be my fault if some guy’s ego were crushed just because I was taller. I got over that, thank God, and now regard my height as a definite advantage in the business world.

My dad is a tall man, so that’s where my height comes from. However, I did not inherit his wavy dark brown hair. Mine is a sort of nondescript brown, hence the Clairol treatments. People tell me I’m a larger version of my mother except that I have my dad’s hazel eyes. Mom’s are pale blue, her hair light brown, and she is gentle, sweet, and a little bit shy. So I guess Mom and I are alike in facial features only.

I’m a Senior Product manager of the Industrial Line at Basic Industries, a proud supplier of industrial and consumer waste receptacles to the nation. After ten years with the company, I’m at a real crisis point in my career. The Consumer Line Manager is retiring, and I want that position. However my boss, Eileen Hister and her good friend, Joel Turner the VP of Marketing, have other plans. They want to bring in a carefully selected “Mr. Nice Guy” who’ll be content to remain gratefully in their shadow.

Eddie Shimp. Close friends call him Shrimp because he’s so tall. Others call him Shrimp in private reference to his penis if they’ve happened to notice in the men’s room. You’re wondering how I know that. Well, that sort of information gets around. But really, Eddie is a nice, amiable guy, like clay; he could be molded to suit most any purpose. That’s probably why he never developed a real expertise in any department at Basic. His credentials are okay, a BS in Industrial Engineering and an MBA, but he’s got no stellar accomplishments to point to. So none of this is really Eddie’s doing or Eddie’s fault. He was merely selected to fill a slot and not upset the status quo - meaning he would do an adequate job but never out-shine his direct managers.

However I am all primed to go after the Consumer Line Manager position. I truly believe I am the best person for the job. This will be an important career move for me into upper management. It won’t be an easy campaign. I’ll have to work hard to convince the management selection committee that I’m the best candidate, but that’s the best part because they decide, not Eileen and Joel.

Now add Jim’s proposal to the mix, and I’m faced with a real dilemma. I guess I’ve been deceiving myself about my feelings for Jim, hiding them under my career ambitions. I was okay when Jim was matter-of-fact about the whole thing because that meant he could live quite happily without me. Believing that, I was determined to act that way too. Then he had to go and pin his heart on his sleeve. That did it. The dam was broken. I couldn’t deny my real feelings and a flood of emotion washed over me.

The next evening found me alone sitting in the big, comfortable wing chair in the living room of my first floor apartment enjoying a cozy fire in my much-prized wood-burning fireplace. So what if it’s not energy efficient? I use it to warm my soul, not to supplement my convenient oil furnace. I hear the quiet footsteps of my second floor tenants, a nice senior couple, as they return home from an evening at the mall. The guy who rents the third floor apartment will be out until the weekend. He travels a lot.

I look around the room and smile because I feel very comfortable here. Although the house is a sturdy red brick Victorian, I don’t go in for that style in interiors. My taste runs to plain, natural woods with a leather couch and tapestry chair thrown in for variety. I carefully picked out the Roman shades and soft, casual swags that clothe the windows.

I would regret leaving my lovely old house. It holds so many memories. I’ve made it my own over the years. At first, I just shared the first floor apartment with my two best friends. Then they moved out and on within a year of each other. I liked the place and stayed although it was tough at first to make ends meet until I got a few raises. Once I got my head straight and learned how to get on at Basic, my salary became respectable within a few years, and I was able to fix up the apartment the way I wanted it. Then just two years ago, Mr. Evans decided to sell the building, and I snapped it up.

After pouring myself a glass of Merlot, I lit a cigarette and went through it all over again. I am going to be 33 years old in April. If I want marriage and children, now is the time. I know I’ll never find a better man than Jim. We know each other inside and out. There will be no nasty surprises. We’ve always been totally honest with each other. Our life together would be comfortable, maybe even exciting, and God knows Jim is an incredible lover. But, and this is a huge but, I would be playing second fiddle. I would not be in charge of my own life anymore. Still, that famous biological clock is ticking louder than ever. It’s time for me to decide. I can still opt for the traditional route.

The old Maggie would have had no problem with this decision. I’d have fallen into Jim’s arms saying, “Yes, yes, yes,” cheerfully dumping all those years of hard work and casually kissing my career goodbye. My next step would have been to practice writing my name as Mrs. James Hodges. If it were ten years ago, before I came to my senses.