Her Act Will Be Hard to Follow
With her chin held high, she surveyed the crowd from their table in the front of the room by the stage. Nick compared her movements to those of a regal lion as it surveyed its jungle court from its perch on the side of a mountain. And just as the lion deserved the respect it received from the animals in the jungle, she deserved her position presently. She’d worked hard. Soon she’d be called to the podium to receive her award as one of West Florida’s three most distinguished women of the year.
She was also Nick O’Brien’s mom. He sat by her side at her table, surrounded by a group of women from the organization for which she worked: Fox ‘n Fields. All were dressed in suits, yet none wore them as well as his mother. It was clear which of the bunch sat atop of the corporate food chain.
He was proud to be by her side, proud to be by the epitome of success. And she played the part well with her perfect posture and make-up, professionally manicured fingernails, coiffed blonde bob haircut, and crisp red designer suit. Her new gold Rolex watch with its diamond bezel sparkled against both the lights in the room and her office white skin, as did her diamond necklace. She-power.
According to the women at his table, celebrating the accomplishments of the filthy rich was always a treat in Orange Bay. And the Orange Bay Women’s Awards Ceremony offered average folks that “delightful indulgence” each year. Having the opportunity to marvel at the designer outfits of the world’s female millionaires in the top 1% stirred feelings of pleasure and wonder among those at his table, along with those they’d termed the “bourgeois” at other tables in the packed auditorium.
The event was kicked off with the introduction of the keynote speaker, Barbara Collins. She arrived at the podium in a dark green knit suit, which accented her silver grey hair as snow accents pine trees in the Colorado Mountains in the winter. Her appearance seemed a bit frail and her voice slightly quivered as she began her key note address.
“I’m excited to have this opportunity to let you know about the excellent work that we’ve done in our home over the past twenty years in service of the good Lord. The Collins’ Foster Home provides a safe haven, support, and therapeutic and loving care for abused, neglected, and abandoned children. Its campus includes five homes on fifteen acres of land and it’s located just outside of the city of Orange Bay in a rather rural part of the county. Each home features ten bedrooms: eight for sixteen children and two for the overnight caretakers. In all, we serve eighty children at a time.”
Pictures of young children, teenagers, and adults whose lives she had touched were streamed on a large screen, tugging at the heart strings of all in the audience, particularly Nick, who noticed boys and girls of every race, some healthy and some disabled. All had two things in common: they’d been both challenged and blessed. Life had thrown them a curveball and Barbara batted it away and blessed them with a loving and secure environment. Nick felt inspired. As the pictures flashed before him, he noticed one more commonality: all wore smiles.
“Each and every one of the children in our home has a special gift and is a special blessing from God. It’s been our job to find that gift and to make sure that they use it effectively in their lives. Some were gifted with the ability to write, so we’ve encouraged writing and the expression of their thoughts. Others were blessed with the ability to understand and empathize with others, so we’ve encouraged sales or teaching or counseling or social work. Others were gifted with mathematical skills, so we’ve encouraged pursuits in engineering, accounting, science, and finance. Still others were blessed with musical or artistic abilities, so we’ve encouraged advancement in the arts. Everyone has a gift. And everyone needs to know that. People need to know that they’re special in their own way, blessed by our Lord.” She paused and looked over the audience.
“What you may not know is that I’ve been battling breast cancer over the past few months. I was diagnosed with stage four breast cancer in late February and told that I only had a few months left to live. I chose to forego chemotherapy, since it would make me too sick to use my last days on this earth the way I want to use them. My life has been very rewarding and I now feel that I’m ready to meet my Father in Heaven.” She paused and surveyed the room before turning her head towards the screen, which displayed children’s pictures from her foster home.
“Don’t worry about the fate of the community foster home. Jesus has blessed the home in remarkable ways and it will grow and thrive under new leadership, whom Jesus will inspire, to serve the growing needs of our community. We haven’t closed our mission gap of serving all of the children in need in our community as we can only serve eighty at a time. There is still much work to do.”
Tears poured down the faces of the audience as they experienced an unusual blending of her pain, her passion, and her faith. Nick’s eyes welled up with tears, which he quickly wiped off. He hated crying in front of others. Pulling his stomach inward, he drew a deep breath and tried to relax his thoughts. Again, his emotions were getting the best of him.
“Relax. Show control,” he muttered under his breath as he looked down into his lap. After a few moments, he felt a bit of strength and again peered up at the podium.
He noticed that Barbara wasn’t crying. Instead, she said, “Please hold back your tears. You should be rejoicing. I’ve completed what God called me to do and will soon walk with him in Heaven. And let me tell you that I can’t wait to thank Jesus.” Nick was surprised by the sudden change in her voice, which now exuded strength and power. It was clear that her frail body was no match for her inner strength.
The audience clapped and stood up in an ovation as she ended her speech and walked back to her seat at the first table. A press photographer followed her and shot photos.
Nick watched her as she arrived at her table and sat down. Her table was occupied by both women and men, and…
“Piper McCoy,” he whispered to himself as he sat up straighter in his chair. “Beautiful.” She was sitting at Barbara’s table and looked radiant in her red suit jacket, black and white scarf, and upright posture. Nick always admired Piper, from the first time he saw her in high school in his freshmen year. He’d asked her out a few times, but she’d always rejected him saying she didn’t date football players. He couldn’t figure out why she didn’t realize that they would be the perfect couple. They were meant for one another. He knew that from the moment he saw her and from the way she walked, and the way she talked, and the way she presented herself to others. No other woman was comparable to Piper.
He didn’t want to give up on her. She was perfect, both on the outside and within. Her straight, mocha-colored hair and olive skin shone in perfect contrast to her pearly white smile and full cherry-colored lips. Nick stared at her for a few minutes before catching her attention. As their eyes met, he couldn’t help but wink at her. She looked away. Ouch. Again.
“One day she’ll realize what I know,” he thought as he took a small sip of water from an icy stemmed goblet in front of him. A few drops of perspiration on the glass fell onto his lap, which he pushed off before penetrating his pant legs.
His mother was by his side, sitting in a somewhat stoical way. She turned to him and whispered, “Barbara Collins’ act will be hard to follow.” He looked at her and felt her thoughts. Unlike Barbara, she donated little to the poor and supported few, if any, charitable causes.
Fortunately for his mom, the two other award recipients were called to the podium first and one had a background more in line with hers. Candace Schwartz was also the chief executive officer of a Fortune 500 organization with over 200,000 workers. She shared her experiences with the crowd before closing with a few “words of wisdom.” Her words were well received and the crowd erupted in applause as she exited the stage and returned to her table.
Nick’s mom was introduced next. Catherine O’Brien stood up and walked to the stage in her red high heels, which precisely matched the shade of her skirt suit. After arriving at the podium, she began to share her experiences with the crowd, highlighting the ways she had advanced in her company through “determination, drive, passion, and working half-days.” Half-days were twelve hour days, often seven days a week.
Little time was left for a personal life, but that was okay since her only son was now in college.
“My son Nick is off to a good start in life. He’ll be graduating from State this December with a dual major in finance and business management and I expect that he’ll earn his MBA in the next few years. Nick plays football for State, but he’s more likely to capitalize on his intellectual skills and assets and follow my footsteps in the corporate world. Nick, please stand up.”
Nick grinned as he stood up and waved at the crowd, noticing that many were smiling at him and clapping. Except Piper. She was no longer at the Barbara Collins’ table.
“Must be using the restroom. What timing!” Nick lamented to himself.
“At Fox ‘n Fields, we value a strong work ethic, an achievement-orientation, innovation, and good ethical values, so we hire and promote candidates who share our values and who aren’t afraid of working hard and working smart. Those who succeed with us are promoted often and compensated generously. Those who fail are documented for poor performance and terminated. We don’t tolerate laziness, sloppy work, unethical actions, or poor excuses. That’s what drives us and that’s what’s always fueled the American Dream, which thrives at Fox ‘n Fields!” Catherine paused as the crowd clapped. When they finished, she said, “Thank you for giving me the opportunity to share my experiences with you this afternoon.”
The crowd clapped again as she walked with authority back to her chair. She was stopped by the press photographer and posed for a few pictures, displaying her plaque proudly. Then she returned to the table and sat down.
“Great job, Mom. You were fantastic up there; an inspiration for everyone. Especially the hard workers.”
“Thanks, Nick. You’ll be recognized one day too; it’s in your genes.”
Nick surveyed the crowd and caught the eyes of the press photographer. The photographer smiled at him and Nick returned the gesture. His dark coffee-colored eyes then shifted to his mom. He looked like the type of man she’d be interested in; like his dad, and like him.
His dad had died when he was in the fifth grade in a car accident, but he didn’t miss him that much; he didn’t miss the verbal abuse. His mom didn’t miss him much either; they’d never gotten along. She told Nick that he was jealous of her love for her only son.
And he loved his mom too. She had worked hard to give him a good upbringing and to instill her values in him. But she was probably lonely without a man in the house. Aside from the summers and breaks, he’d been away at State for four years and her only other companion was their dog.
Though his mind had trailed off, he still had his eyes fixed on the photographer who was still eyeing up his mom in a way that one would imagine a homeless man in a restaurant would eye up a filet mignon. He looked hungry, though he appeared to have a muscular body under his grey pin-striped suit. Standing around six foot four, he had a handsome appearance. His mom would likely appreciate his wavy dark brown hair, square jaw, and straight, Roman-sort of nose. And he appeared to be about his mom’s age, early forties.
Nick’s eyes gravitated to the man’s hand. That’s when he saw the wedding band on his finger. “Nope, that won’t work,” he said to himself, realizing that he didn’t appreciate the photographer’s apparent interests in his mom.
A short while later, the luncheon ended and Nick caught another glimpse of Piper at Barbara Collins’ table. She and the others at her table got up and headed to the door.
“Mom, you ready?”
“Yes,” she said as she stood up and grabbed her purse and plaque.
“Nice lunch.”
“Indeed.”
As he and his mom exited the ballroom and headed to the doors, Nick could see Piper through the windows in the hallway to the door as she was heading to a car in the parking lot. If only she appreciated his attention.
Then he spotted the photographer, who was standing just outside of the door of the event hall. He appeared to be waiting for them and was again eyeing up his mother who was walking by his side. As they exited the building, he seized his opportunity.
“Catherine, my name is Braedon Ramsey and I’m a free-lance press photographer and reporter. I heard you’re hosting a fundraiser for Governor Kinnaird at your home next week. I support the governor as well. Would you allow me to photograph the event for a bit of publicity?”
His eyes were locked on his mom’s eyes as he smiled, exposing his flawless teeth. Just as a tiger appraises its prey before moving in for the kill, the photographer stood before his mom, positioned to pounce and devour.
Pulling a business card from his pocket, the photographer offered further information about himself as he handed it to her. She studied the card and said, “I’ll have to check with the governor to determine his comfort level on letting the press in, but it’s likely that we can work this out, at least for a little while.” She pulled her business card from her purse and handed it to him. “Give me a couple of days and then call me.”
“Will do. Thank you, Catherine. Oh, is it okay if I call you by your first name?”
“Well that’s better than other names one could call me,” she offered with a slight smile, “Yes, you can call me Catherine.”
“Hopefully I’ll be seeing you soon.”
“I’m sure we can arrange that.”
Nick noticed his mom’s eyes as she quickly glanced at the photographer’s hand. Nick looked too. The wedding band was gone.
“I know I saw a ring,” he thought to himself. “Cheater.”
“Nick, let’s get going,” she said as she walked away from the photographer and toward her new Ferrari. He followed her and hopped into its passenger seat. Soon they were off. They took the same route home that they’d taken to the luncheon; the slower route along the bay that offered picturesque views.
“I don’t like driving the Ferrari on the highway,” she said, “too much debris flying around. Dents and scratches on this car would drive me crazy.”
“No doubt about that.”
The drive was pleasant on that breezy, sunny day, and the temperature was a perfect seventy degrees. She’d developed a new interest in classical music, which she played as she drove him to the house. He pretended to enjoy the music, but he didn’t. Country music was what floated his boat. The day was about his mom, though, so he said nothing. As they reached Bayfront Drive, his mom turned to him and said, “What do you think of the new house?”
“House? It’s a mansion, Mom. It’s gorgeous. The decorator was worth it.”
“How about inviting some friends over? It’s a house for entertaining.”
“Love to. But I’m going to try to find a job first. A paid summer internship. I’d like to get my foot in the door in a big company early. If not that, maybe I’ll go for a camp counselor job. I’ve already sent out a few applications.”
“Well, you know I appreciate that, Nick. You’re showing the right attitude and your hard work will pay off. You’ll see.”
“Definitely buys the toys,” Nick said as they approached the house. They drove up the driveway and into the garage.
Again he thought of the missing wedding band. “What did you think of that photographer?”
“He seemed okay. Why do you ask?”
“Oh. Nothing.”
She looked over at him and grinned, shaking her head slightly.