Katherine ran out and cut her off. “What? You’re choosing to be a housewife?” She said it as though no lower form of life existed on Earth. “You’d abandon the company you started, the company that needs you, to be a housewife?”
Young men and women in their twenties, dressed in stylish black and bold colors, stopped in their coffee treks, their errands, their trips to the restroom. Suddenly the room was still. The employees, who seconds ago had been buzzing with activity, grew silent. All eyes were on Katherine and Christy.
“Better a housewife than a sl—”
“Christy, please,” Katherine interrupted. “I’m begging you. Baby G is your baby. You don’t want to see it in trouble.” Katherine was unsure of the outcome now, less strident, realizing that this conversation shouldn’t be happening here, in front of everyone.
“Katherine, didn’t you tell me once that you’re as tough as they come? That no matter how bad the news, you could turn it around and come out smelling like a rose? Well, now’s your chance.”
“I don’t remember,” Katherine said. “But if I said that, I was wrong. I can’t turn this around. I don’t know how. I need your help. You always know how to make things right. Please.”
Christy saw two futures open up before her. Since the day she left, she had fantasized about coming back to Baby G. She imagined a hero’s welcome, the restoration of her good name as she carried her company into the next phase of unimaginable greatness. And here it was, being laid in her lap. Not only was it being offered, they actually needed her to save the day.
Or, a whole different future awaited her at home—being Michael’s wife, Renata and Ali’s mother.
Christy noticed Allison, one of her protégés, about ten feet away. Christy had taught her how to do killer presentations. The day before Christy left, Allison had landed an important new retailing partnership. Dan, next to her, had come from an old media company, and he’d flourished in the go-getter atmosphere of Baby G. Chloe, the redhead behind Dan, was a refugee from Morgan Stanley. Christy remembered Chloe’s first day. She had shown Christy her blue toenail polish and said, “I couldn’t have worn this there. Thank you so much.” Then she had gone on to create several successful relationships with key analysts. There was Lizzy, the girl Christy had found making out with the Ivy League summer intern and forgiven with some motherly advice. Her eyes traveled from face to face in the dead silence. A shared ten P.M. pizza here, a companion on the endless road show there. Christy looked at the stunned employees, all witnesses to Katherine’s meltdown. She hoped they wouldn’t lose their jobs over her screwup. But it was too late to save the day, much as she would like to be Xena one more time. She had made new commitments now. They were waiting for her at home. This time, she realized, she really was leaving to spend more time with her family.
Christy faced the impromptu gathering. Everyone was crowding in to hear the decision that could shape their futures. “It is because of all of you that Baby G is what it is. You’ve given so much to this dream of mine, and I know you’ll carry it forward. I know you’ll find your way. It’s up to all of you now.”
To Katherine, she whispered, “Don’t let the door hit you in the ass on the way out.” She walked through the small crowd, shaking hands and hugging those she knew well. They all wanted a moment with her. Then they broke into applause for the woman who would always be Baby G to them.
Leaving the office for the last time, Christy felt tremendous sadness—until she got as far as the exit. Then she bounded down the stairs, all twelve stories to the lobby, toward that other future she held so clearly in her mind’s eye.
Katherine’s Karma
Michael, can you pass the eggs?” Christy asked, looking up from the paper.
“Here. Do you want hot sauce?” he offered.
“I got it,” Renata said, pushing the bottle Christy’s way.
Little-Maria spilled her chocolate milk. Ali rolled her eyes.
“Ali, could you get some paper towels?” Michael asked.
Ali sighed at the imposition, but did what her father said.
“Who wants coffee?” Old-Maria asked.
“I’ll take some,” Christy said.
“I think she needs to go back to a sippy cup,” Michael said.
“Who?” Renata asked.
“Little-Maria. She keeps spilling her drinks,” Michael said.
“No, she’s too old for a sippy cup,” Nectar said. “‘Happy in this, she is not yet so old, but she may learn.’”
“Let me guess. Shakespeare?” Michael said.
“Why sir,” Nectar replied, “how did you know?”
Whoa! A headline on the front page of the Journal caught Christy’s eye: JOURNAL REPORTER ACCUSED OF EXTORTION. “Oh my gosh, you guys, the Galit story hit the paper,” she said. “Listen.” She read it aloud to a rapt audience: It has been learned that a staff reporter for the Journal demanded payment to keep potentially damaging stories out of the news. In at least seven separate incidents that have been uncovered to date, Galit Portal extorted millions of dollars from companies anxious to hide bad news from the public. The actions of this reporter represent a betrayal of the trust that was granted to her by this paper. For that, we are profoundly sorry.
In a unique theory, Attorney General Graham Edwards alleges that by fraudulently withholding damaging information, Ms. Portal caused stock prices to be held at artificially high levels. Should stock prices for the companies involved in the scandal drop when the information Ms. Portal attempted to hide comes to light, Attorney General Edwards will hold Ms. Portal criminally liable for any
