When Sara Cleugh awoke at six, she had a vague feeling that her world was not quite right. She didn't sense impending doom. But she felt unsettled. She knew it would intrude on her usual upbeat mood. She stayed in bed for a few minutes hoping it would dissipate but instead the feeling grew. Eventually, she forced herself to get up. At forty-four, she had as much energy as at twenty-four. She was eager when she greeted the morning. Why was this morning different, she wondered?
She washed her hands and brushed her teeth after her morning pit stop. She went to the kitchen still wearing only the sports bra and panties she slept in. She drank a small glass of cranberry juice, fixed a bottle of ice water, and went to hit the stair-stepper for her morning workout. Unlike other mornings, enthusiasm was absent. She forced herself to slog through forty-five minutes, giving up before completing her usual hour. Normally, the stepper boosted her spirits. Today, it was a chore.
After showering, Sara stood before her mirror without dressing, trying to understand her mood. What she see saw reinforced her self-confidence, but didn't improve her mood. She wasn't vain about her appearance but liked what she saw. She wasn't a cover girl beauty, but she was far from unattractive. Her nose was little long but meshed well with her high cheekbones. Her cheekbones tapered slightly toward a jaw that ended in a softly rounded curve. Strawberry blonde hair had darkened to a golden brown that glittered with natural red highlights in the sun. Her eyebrows were slightly darker than her hair. She considered her eyes to be her best facial feature. Her long, thick lashes never needed mascara. Her eyes were an emerald green with brown streaks radiating out from the pupils. She used them to advantage when it suited her. She could unsettle the most confident and arrogant of men with her eyes.
Her body still looked good, she noted. She weighed only six pounds more than when she married more than twenty years ago. It was six pounds that improved her figure. Her breasts had barely changed, still clinging proudly to the same location they had occupied since developing in her early teens. Her waist was trim. Her tummy flat and firm. Her legs were long, perfectly contoured, with firm, strong muscles. Great legs, really, that contributed much to the long, lithe figure that drew eyes her way whenever she walked into a party or crossed a restaurant wearing a cocktail dress. Her hips had spread slightly when the twins, now off to college, were born. Her hips needed accentuating back then, having been too narrow in her opinion. Her butt cheeks didn't jiggle. Tight glutes moved sensually under slacks and dresses when she strode.
This personal assessment didn't change her unease. She turned to her closet to dress. She selected a pale blue pleated skirt that was easy to move in and a dark blue pullover shirt, embroidered with an ornamental grass across the midriff and up one side. A cluster of miniature red flowers that looked almost real were located below the shallow V-neck, just above her breasts.
After a quick, light breakfast, she cleaned up, and started the dishwasher. She took a quick walk around the back yard and made plans to talk to the landscaper to discuss some improvements. He was due that afternoon to complete the weekly maintenance. He had initially wanted to do routine maintenance during the week but she had insisted on Saturday so she could be there occasionally. She wanted to keep a hand in the yard. Though he had initially resisted, he soon learned that being there Saturday was beneficial. He frequently got more work those Saturdays she was home. Over time, she allowed improvements to be done during the week, when he had a full crew, but her routine maintenance remained on his Saturday schedule.
It was the second Saturday of the month, the day she paid household bills. She parked herself at her desk and got to work. She was always relieved that money was something she no longer worried about. Growing up in West Virginia, her family had been poor, not quite destitute, though they sometimes looked destitute. Money was always an issue. When she got a college scholarship, everything changed for her, and eventually her younger siblings and parents. Her two brothers avoided the coal mines by going to college. Her three sisters didn't marry miners because they went to college, too. She admired the tough people where she grew up. But the life was hard. Few escaped poverty. And things had only got worse with the collapse of the coal industry in recent years.
Sara's husband's company had struggled before she took over managing the day-to-day operations. She was proud of her accomplishments and employees knew she was the real reason the company flourished. The company bore her husband's name. But he didn't run things any more. Sara was loved at work for the way she guided and coached, rarely taking the lead or credit, allowing others to solve problems and develop their skills. She and her husband now earned more each year from the personal investments she managed than they earned in salary and bonuses from the company.
When she finished her bills, she shut down her computer and got up to make lunch. Before she sat down to eat, her cell rang. It was her husband's ring.
'Hello, Jerry.' His call was not a good thing. He was due home midafternoon.
He got right to the point as always. No 'How are you?' No 'What are you doing, today?' No 'I miss you.' And heaven forbid, no 'I love you.' It irritated her, the source of her unease now obvious.
'I won't be home today. My flight was canceled. There is no way to get home before tomorrow,' he said.
'I love you, too.' she responded with a dig. 'What time tomorrow?' When Jerry didn't answer immediately. She knew more was coming.
'Not tomorrow, either. I'm going to LA tomorrow and Indonesia on Monday. Have Gary meet me at the Grasztan Hill mine. A high wall collapsed. They need help to assess conditions and develop a plan before they can dig out. No one was hurt, but they had to evacuate fast and much of their equipment was buried. It looks like at least three weeks, maybe longer before I get home again.'
She hadn't heard about this problem. And she would have if things had been done the way they were supposed to be. The company phone was answered by a human, all hours of the day and night. For something this big, she should have been notified. The client had called Jerry directly, bypassing established protocols. Again.
He'd already been gone nearly three weeks. Jerry didn't need to travel like this. Other people were more than capable. There were junior employees that needed experience. But he stubbornly refused to give up travel, despite repeated attempts to get him to cut back. When home, he was always itching to be in the field again.
'Gary takes time off. He's on vacation. He's not due back in the office until Thursday. There's a couple things he needs to do here before he goes anywhere. It will be at least Monday next week before he can leave.' Sara told him. 'How about I send Jeff out on Monday morning? He's ready for something like this. He just needs to be given an opportunity.'
'Send Jeff. But send Gary, too as soon as he's available.'
