“Geoffrey!” The firm clap on the back had startled him and he felt annoyance flash. He had just dropped off his son at school, had gone to the café for a quiet moment before work, had sat at a counter stool with his back to the door and was in thought, staring off, thinking again of the curious beginning to his failure. He checked his annoyance.
“Geoffrey!” He turned around on the counter stool and saw the beaming Irish face of his friend and stood up to offer the stool next to him in which Geoffrey was already seated.
“Just drop Charlie and Becky off?”
“Yeah, you too?” Geoffrey chuckled a hearty, friendly Irish chuckle. Their children went to the same private school.
“Yeah, goin’ to work." "Garvan,” Geoffrey was a carpenter, “is right around here, right?” Unsure, the man was trying to remember. “This is right on your way from school?”
“Yeah, come here whenever I drop off the kids.”
“How’s the business going, Geoff?”
“Garvan as it was doesn’t exist anymore.” Geoffrey chuckled less heartedly. “Maritza and I are splitting up.” The man didn’t say anything. He turned his head to face Geoffrey directly. “We’re going to lose the house. We’ll have to take Charlie out of private school.” They had always favored their girl over their boy.
“I didn’t know.” The man had social anxiety.
“I know, you didn’t know and I’m laying it all on you.”
“I didn’t know.” The man was anti-social. “What happened?”
“We were doing pretty good until a couple years ago. Maritza didn't think I was running the business right and demanded she take it over.”
His anger flashed now. He didn't like Maritza, didn't trust her and had hated her once, over the boat. They were supposed to go in on the boat together. Geoffrey had recruited the man and his wife, the wife he had failed, and the man had recruited his best friend and his best friend’s wife. They had all met on the boat and Maritza told the best friend and his wife that the boat was a family thing. The man and his wife were like family. The best friend and his wife were not. The man and his best friend and his best friend’s wife had been humiliated. “This is Roger’s best friend,” the man’s wife had said. “This is how we can get him involved.” The man had not known that his wife had solicited the boat proposition. Geoffrey had held Maritza’s hand in support through her veto and was silent and immobile. After they left the man’s wife had called them. Geoffrey then called the man and said they wanted the man’s best friend. The man, deeply ashamed, told his best friend and his best friend gallantly, politely and vaguely allowed the idea to die a non-violent death. The man’s wife and Geoffrey and Maritza never stopped being “family.” The man had protested his wife going over there one night to visit. They had rewritten history to absolve Maritza of the sand-bagged knifing. Their rewritten history began and ended with his best friend’s gallant, polite, vague euthanasia. The man knew. He did not go over to their house for years. Maritza knew. She did not come over to their house for years. The man’s wife came home from a visit one time, long after. Voice trembling, she told him that she had asked Maritza why she didn’t visit. “I don’t feel safe around Roger,” Maritza had said. The man’s anger had flashed only internally.
“She ran it into the ground. We’re selling the business piece by piece.” The man became conscious that he had been listening to Geoffrey so intently that he had been immobile and staring. Consciously, he shifted on his stool and looked away briefly.
“She thought we were selling the pieces too expensively. She lowered the prices to what she thought would make them sell better. Neither of us are very good at that and we were selling more pieces but Maritza had priced them below the cost it took us to make them. So we started losing money and before we figured out what was wrong we were so far under water we couldn't pay the workers or the mortgage and Maritza’s mother has paid for school the last couple months.”
The man’s breakfast came. Geoffrey ordered.
“We were so stressed, it affected our marriage. We weren't intimate. We've been to marriage counseling. Maritza blamed the business on me. She said, she stood up one time and pointed at me and yelled ‘I need a provider and you are not a provider!’” Geoffrey laughed his hearty laugh.
"Oh God, she went right for your manhood."
“I got an ulcer through it all. She’s moving out.”
“Where is she going, in with her mother?”
“She rented a house down the street.”
“How can you afford that?” It was out before he could check it.
“We had refinanced the house and took out an equity loan for Garvan. She’s using that.” Geoffrey had not defended against his unchecked question.
“Geoffrey, Garvan is done, then?”
“Yeah, we've let the workers go and we've sold the machinery. We’re selling what’s left inside piece-by-piece.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Try to get a job somewhere, I don’t know. I can still build.”
“How about Maritza?”
“She’s designing and selling clothing. Making some, having some made for her, she’s been to India, Asia to buy cloth. She’s writing a children’s book.” The man checked himself.
“Is there any money coming in?”
“Not yet.”
Geoffrey’s breakfast came.
“Jeff, let me help. I have retirement money tied up in mutual funds…”
“...No, no…”
“...Listen. It just sits there, I get no income from it, I don’t even know it’s there until we need something. I did it for Earl a few years ago, gave him $10,000. He was strapped. Gave it to him as a gift...
..."Really?...
...Yeah, he had been so generous with us when he sold his first business, came over to the house one day and gave Ann and me each a check for $10,000. Just for being friends. You and Maritza are my friends." It was out before he could check it and he was disgusted with himself. "Let me do this for you.”
“I would pay you back…”
“...You don’t have to pay me back…”
“...I will pay you back…”
“...How much? I can’t pay off your mortgage or anything huge but I can get you out of a crisis, how about $10,000?”
“That would help…”
“…Or what? I don’t know how much would help or how much wouldn't do anything. You name the figure. All I have to do is call my broker and tell him to cut me a check. $10,000, $15,000, $20,000? I could give you up to $25,000.”
“$10,000 would definitely help.” But the man thought it wouldn't help enough.
“Tell me a number that would give you guys some breathing room, not just get your heads above water. If 15 or 20 would make the difference between a gasp and a relieved breath, tell me that.”
“I think $10,000.” The man took that to mean it was between $10,000 and $15,000.
“OK. I gotta get to work. Think about it and call me, $10,000 or $15,000. I’ll call my broker and you’ll have a check in under a week.”
“Roger, thank you.”
“Geoffrey, it’s my pleasure.”
That fucking bitch. On the way to work the man did not think of his infidelity to his wife as a failure nor of Geoffrey's support of Maritza's back-stabbing on the boat nor of his dislike of Maritza except for "that fucking bitch."
“Garvan as it was doesn’t exist anymore.” Geoffrey chuckled less heartedly. “Maritza and I are splitting up.” The man didn’t say anything. He turned his head to face Geoffrey directly. “We’re going to lose the house. We’ll have to take Charlie out of private school.” They had always favored their girl over their boy.
“I didn’t know.” The man had social anxiety.
“I know, you didn’t know and I’m laying it all on you.”
“I didn’t know.” The man was anti-social. “What happened?”
“We were doing pretty good until a couple years ago. Maritza didn't think I was running the business right and demanded she take it over.”
His anger flashed now. He didn't like Maritza, didn't trust her and had hated her once, over the boat. They were supposed to go in on the boat together. Geoffrey had recruited the man and his wife, the wife he had failed, and the man had recruited his best friend and his best friend’s wife. They had all met on the boat and Maritza told the best friend and his wife that the boat was a family thing. The man and his wife were like family. The best friend and his wife were not. The man and his best friend and his best friend’s wife had been humiliated. “This is Roger’s best friend,” the man’s wife had said. “This is how we can get him involved.” The man had not known that his wife had solicited the boat proposition. Geoffrey had held Maritza’s hand in support through her veto and was silent and immobile. After they left the man’s wife had called them. Geoffrey then called the man and said they wanted the man’s best friend. The man, deeply ashamed, told his best friend and his best friend gallantly, politely and vaguely allowed the idea to die a non-violent death. The man’s wife and Geoffrey and Maritza never stopped being “family.” The man had protested his wife going over there one night to visit. They had rewritten history to absolve Maritza of the sand-bagged knifing. Their rewritten history began and ended with his best friend’s gallant, polite, vague euthanasia. The man knew. He did not go over to their house for years. Maritza knew. She did not come over to their house for years. The man’s wife came home from a visit one time, long after. Voice trembling, she told him that she had asked Maritza why she didn’t visit. “I don’t feel safe around Roger,” Maritza had said. The man’s anger had flashed only internally.
“She ran it into the ground. We’re selling the business piece by piece.” The man became conscious that he had been listening to Geoffrey so intently that he had been immobile and staring. Consciously, he shifted on his stool and looked away briefly.
“She thought we were selling the pieces too expensively. She lowered the prices to what she thought would make them sell better. Neither of us are very good at that and we were selling more pieces but Maritza had priced them below the cost it took us to make them. So we started losing money and before we figured out what was wrong we were so far under water we couldn't pay the workers or the mortgage and Maritza’s mother has paid for school the last couple months.”
The man’s breakfast came. Geoffrey ordered.
“We were so stressed, it affected our marriage. We weren't intimate. We've been to marriage counseling. Maritza blamed the business on me. She said, she stood up one time and pointed at me and yelled ‘I need a provider and you are not a provider!’” Geoffrey laughed his hearty laugh.
"Oh God, she went right for your manhood."
“I got an ulcer through it all. She’s moving out.”
“Where is she going, in with her mother?”
“She rented a house down the street.”
“How can you afford that?” It was out before he could check it.
“We had refinanced the house and took out an equity loan for Garvan. She’s using that.” Geoffrey had not defended against his unchecked question.
“Geoffrey, Garvan is done, then?”
“Yeah, we've let the workers go and we've sold the machinery. We’re selling what’s left inside piece-by-piece.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Try to get a job somewhere, I don’t know. I can still build.”
“How about Maritza?”
“She’s designing and selling clothing. Making some, having some made for her, she’s been to India, Asia to buy cloth. She’s writing a children’s book.” The man checked himself.
“Is there any money coming in?”
“Not yet.”
Geoffrey’s breakfast came.
“Jeff, let me help. I have retirement money tied up in mutual funds…”
“...No, no…”
“...Listen. It just sits there, I get no income from it, I don’t even know it’s there until we need something. I did it for Earl a few years ago, gave him $10,000. He was strapped. Gave it to him as a gift...
..."Really?...
...Yeah, he had been so generous with us when he sold his first business, came over to the house one day and gave Ann and me each a check for $10,000. Just for being friends. You and Maritza are my friends." It was out before he could check it and he was disgusted with himself. "Let me do this for you.”
“I would pay you back…”
“...You don’t have to pay me back…”
“...I will pay you back…”
“...How much? I can’t pay off your mortgage or anything huge but I can get you out of a crisis, how about $10,000?”
“That would help…”
“…Or what? I don’t know how much would help or how much wouldn't do anything. You name the figure. All I have to do is call my broker and tell him to cut me a check. $10,000, $15,000, $20,000? I could give you up to $25,000.”
“$10,000 would definitely help.” But the man thought it wouldn't help enough.
“Tell me a number that would give you guys some breathing room, not just get your heads above water. If 15 or 20 would make the difference between a gasp and a relieved breath, tell me that.”
“I think $10,000.” The man took that to mean it was between $10,000 and $15,000.
“OK. I gotta get to work. Think about it and call me, $10,000 or $15,000. I’ll call my broker and you’ll have a check in under a week.”
“Roger, thank you.”
“Geoffrey, it’s my pleasure.”
That fucking bitch. On the way to work the man did not think of his infidelity to his wife as a failure nor of Geoffrey's support of Maritza's back-stabbing on the boat nor of his dislike of Maritza except for "that fucking bitch."