Page 58 of Ripple Effect
“After the first year, after the scare of our marriage being in such trouble, I understood it more. Cal got me read on—a vernacular for being able to hear certain types of information—to a certain extent, so I learned a little about the business.”
“What did you think it involved?”
“Computers. I knew from an early age my cousin was a huge hacker, so I presumed Cal was as well. Back then, I kind of pictured Alliance as this big think tank. It’s so much more than that.” An evil smirk crosses my face. “But I will state with one hundred percent no guilt whatsoever that Cal likely suffered every time I called him with a problem about my work network—something Sam designed for me.”
“Live tech support?”
My lips twitch. “I think he bought himself the T-shirt that says, ‘I won’t be your technical support.’ After the accident, I insisted on being able to contact him at all times. That was nonnegotiable. Cal agreed and that’s when he hired Rebecca. She was—and still is—a godsend. I mean that in every way. I went from having a husband who’d work fourteen-hour days in the office to a husband who worked normal hours at least three days a week when he was home. She organized him and basically became his drill sergeant.”
“And you met her when you toured the Alliance office?” Dr. Powell asks me.
“Yes.” God, thinking back, I was so nervous that day. How far we’ve all come since then.
“What was it like?
“I can’t really talk too much about that.” Now that I’ve been fully briefed on everything Alliance did, and what Cal does now, I know what I can say and what I can’t. “Let me just say there was a formal office in addition to the training facilities. After my first visit, I was given unrestricted access to the office space.”
“What did it make you feel to see that part of your husband’s life?”
“Proud,” I say immediately. “My husband was doing an important job that helped people; I understood that even if he couldn’t talk about it.”
“What can you tell me about your first visit to Alliance?”
“I was greeted in the lobby by Cal. He was wearing a suit that was pressed for once.” Then I begin to share about my first visit to Alliance and what it was like to enter this part of my husband’s life for the first time.
38
Elizabeth
Year Two – Nine Years Ago from Present Day
Hmm, the building looks fairly ordinary from the outside. About six, seven floors, I wonder if the reflective glass is tempered enough to keep Cal’s office cool.
Following the protocol Cal reminded me of over breakfast this morning, I pull up to the gate. I roll down my window and offer a hesitant smile. “Hello. I’m Elizabeth Sullivan. I have an appointment to see my husband, Calhoun.”
“Yes, ma’am. May we see some ID please?”
“Certainly.” I reach in my bag for my wallet. Sliding out my driver’s license, I hand it to the somber-faced individual.
He enters it into the computer before holding it up. His eyes flicker back and forth. “Here you go, ma’am. I’ll just do a quick walk around to get your tag and you’ll be all set.”
Anxiously, I wait for him to come back. “All set, Mrs. Sullivan. Do you know where you’re going?”
I nod. Then because the butterflies in my stomach get the best of me, I blurt out, “Does Cal have to do this every morning he comes to work?”
Leaning down with an arm braced on my window, the guard answers, “Employees access through a different entrance, ma’am.”
“Well, it explains why he leaves so early,” I mutter as I shift my car back into gear. “Thank you.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Sullivan. Have a nice day.” He raps the roof of my car as the gates in front of me warning me of persistent video surveillance open.
“Nice. Right. Not exactly the word I’d use.” I wave as I drive off.
I can hear Cal’s voice in my head saying, “Drive to the front of the building. There will be signs for visitor parking. Any of the spots there are fine.”
I navigate to a spot close to the building. Taking a quick moment to check out my gloss in the mirror, I debate whether I need to send the manufacturer a letter of thanks since it’s still perfectly in place. “It’s just an office, Libby. Stop being so nervous.” With that mental shove, I open the door and swing my legs out.
It takes only a few minutes in the warm South Carolina air for me to reach the lobby door. Before I can reach for it, it’s being swung outward. I almost stumble back on my heels. “Excuse me,” I say automatically. I grab onto the handle to hold it open for whomever is exiting.
