Inglath Cooper - A Woman Like Annie

“Not always,” Jack said. “But I’d have to say it’s a pretty good idea.”

Annie smiled and smoothed down a wayward strand of Tommy’s hair. Her son had managed to defuse some of the nervousness she would have no doubt been feeling had she been here alone with Jack Corbin. She’d been lucky to get the man to meet her at all, and she couldn’t afford to waste any more of the limited time she had to make her case.

“Jack.” She cleared her throat and willed her nerves to settle. “I know I mentioned this in my letters and calls to your attorney—”

“All of them?” he interrupted.

Was he teasing her? The thought tripped her up a bit. “Ah, yes, I’m sure. I would like to reiterate again just how much Macon’s Point would like to see Corbin Manufacturing remain in business. A great many of the people who live here rely on your factory for their—”

“My daddy’s famous.”

The announcement came from Tommy who had looked up from his game and was waiting for a reaction.

“He is?” Jack asked with a raised eyebrow. “What’s he do?”

“He plays baseball.”

“Tommy, honey, Mr. Corbin and I are discussing—”

“For what team?”

“He used to be with the Braves, but he got hurt.”

“Is your daddy J. D. McCabe?”

Tommy nodded, so proud that Annie’s heart hurt.

“He is famous,” Jack said, looking impressed enough to make Tommy light up again. “He’s quite a player.”

“I want to be just like him when I get big. He lives in Los—” Tommy hesitated and then looked up at Annie. “Where is it, Mama?”

“Los Angeles, honey.”

“Mama and Daddy are divorced, so he has to live out there.”

“Oh,” Jack said, the response admirably neutral.

Annie drew in a quick breath, put a hand on her son’s hair and said, “Tommy, we’ll have to tell Mr. Corbin about Daddy’s baseball career another time. We can’t keep him here all night, and he and I have some very important things to discuss.”

“Do you like baseball, Mr. Corbin?” Tommy asked, completely ignoring Annie’s attempt at reason.

“I like to watch it, but I never was very good at playing it.”

Tommy considered this for a moment, and then said, “Not everybody can be a great baseball player.”

Annie recognized the words her son had used in an attempt to console Jack. They were the same ones she’d used since Tommy had first started asking her if she thought he’d grow up to be a great baseball player like his father. One of her greatest fears was that Tommy would hinge his sense of self-worth on whether or not he could play like J.D., and this was the last thing she wanted for him. “Tommy, honey—”

“You’re right about that,” Jack said. “Everyone is born with different strengths and abilities.”

Tommy considered this for a brief moment. “What’s yours?”

Jack rubbed a hand around the back of his neck and said, “Hmm. I guess I would say I might have a talent for putting things back together again.”

Annie could see that the comment was as intriguing to her six-year-old son as it was to her.

“Like puzzles?” Tommy asked.

“Sort of, but with real-life situations.”

“Oh.”

Tommy let it go, and for once Annie wished her son would persist with another question.

Charlotte appeared with their dinners.

“Let’s see, one tossed salad for our mayor,” she said, placing the bowl of lettuce and vegetables in front of Annie. “And for our boys, pancakes.”

She set the loaded plates in front of “the boys,” bestowing a there-you-are-sugar on Tommy and then landing a what-do-you-say-we-meet-up-later smile on Jack Corbin.

“Mama, will you cut up my pancakes?”

“Sure, honey.” Annie darted a glance at Jack who was waiting politely for the two of them to begin eating. “Go ahead, please,” she said.

He reached for the syrup bottle and poured liberally until his plate was a pond with the pancakes floating in the center like a stack of lily pads.

“Can I have as much syrup as Mr. Corbin, Mama?”

Annie tried not to smile. “I’ll pour, and you say when, okay?”

Jack passed the syrup bottle to her with a slightly embarrassed shrug, which startled her with its unexpected appeal. “Okay, so in some ways, a man never grows up.”

“In most ways,” Annie said, the remark slipping out before she had given it an edit.

He cocked an eyebrow and passed up commenting on that, but Annie didn’t miss the curiosity in his eyes.

After finishing with Tommy’s pancakes, Annie drizzled dressing across her salad, took a few token bites and then put down her fork, feeling as if the lettuce were sticking in her throat. The sooner she said what she’d come to say, the sooner the knot of nerves inside her would dissolve. “As I was saying, Jack—” She stopped, cleared her throat, then tried again. “Five hundred people in this town will be out of work if you close down your factory. That means they won’t be able to pay their mortgages or car payments. They will be without health insurance. If you shut down that factory, you might as well shut down the whole town.”

She’d gained momentum near the end, strong and not a little accusatory. Annie happened to believe that every word she had just said was true, and she somehow needed to make him understand that. “There must be something that can be done. It’s not as if the company is in bankruptcy.”

Jack Corbin studied her for several long seconds. Annie resisted the distinct urge to fidget under that level stare and remained still in her seat. It was the most intimidating stare she’d ever faced in her life. Don’t look away, Annie. If you do, he wins.

“Close enough,” he said, a glimmer of respect in his eyes when he said, “Look, Mrs. McCabe—”

“Annie.”

“Annie,” he inclined his head, “I appreciate your position. And I’m sorry that things have ended this way. My father’s company provided the people of this town with livelihoods for a lot of years. But he’s not here anymore. And Corbin Manufacturing was his vision, not mine.”

Annie’s heart sank. As explanations went, his sounded as if it had been forged in steel. The set look to his jaw told her that she didn’t have an icicle’s chance in Tahiti of turning this particular situation around. She suddenly felt tired and resigned and downright sad.

Some combination of those emotions must have been reflected in her face. He sighed and said, “Look, I appreciate the difficulty of your position, Annie. I hope you can do the same of mine.”

Annie toyed with a piece of lettuce at the edge of her bowl, avoiding his gaze. She looked up then and met it head on. “Actually, I can’t. You see, I know most of these people as individuals. I know Sam Crawford who works in your finishing department. He has a wife with MS and three children he’s somehow managing to raise while working and taking care of her. I know Milly Thomsen who works in the front office. She’s supporting herself and twin girls after her husband was killed in a logging accident last year. I see the individual tragedies that will happen in this town if that factory closes down, and no, I can’t accept the rightness of that. Not if there’s any way at all to avoid it.”

Tommy’s heels thunked against the lower panel of the booth. “I’m sleepy, Mama. Are you done talkin’ bizness?”

“I think we’re just about finished, Tommy,” Jack said, shifting his unreadable gaze from Annie to her son who was rubbing his eyes with the back of a fist.

Annie put an arm around Tommy’s shoulders, her heavy heart dropping a few more inches. “Thank you for listening. I only wish I could have said something to make you reconsider.”