Worrying

Roger leaned over his drafting table, scrutinizing the blueprints spread before him. The midmorning sun streamed through his office window filling it with much appreciated light and raising the temperature to an unwelcome level. He could feel a little bead of sweat trickle down the back of his neck.

He tried to keep his focus on the task at hand, but his gaze kept drifting over to the clear blue sky outside his window taking his mind far away. This was a day to be outside, up in the mountains, next to a lake with his girls and a fishing rod. But being an adult, being a father, meant being responsible first and playing second. With the hope that the coming weekend would bring similar clear skies, Roger turned back to his work.

He needed to finish this before lunch so it would be ready for his one o’clock meeting with the customer. He'd been over the blueprints several times that week, but something had been nagging at the back of his mind all morning. Something was off and he was running out of time to figure it out. He looked at the clock on the wall, it was already a quarter after eleven. Another bead of sweat slipped down his neck.

Roger pushed away from the table and stood up. His mind felt foggy from the heat and he needed to step away so he could come back and see the problem more clearly. As he stepped from his office into the hall he just about ran into Joe and Lyle.

"You all ready for that big meeting, today," Lyle smirked annoyingly and Joe barely stifled a laugh.

"Just about," Roger smiled jovially back at them, determined not to flinch, and didn't miss a step as he strode past.

He could feel their eyes on his back as he made his way to the breakroom. It seemed these days everyone watched him, waiting for him to mess up. He had finally worked his way up to the position of Project Manager and felt the pressure to prove himself with this first solo assignment. Brad trusted him, that had been made very clear. But Joe, Lyle, and many others in the company scoffed when they came into his office, noting the photo of his daughters where everyone else displayed their diplomas. He heard their whisperings and saw their jealous glances. Only a few years ago he had still be working out in the shop and some people would never see him as any more than a blue collar lackey with no degree.

He walked into the break room and fished a quarter out of his pocket, inserted it into the slot, and pulled the knob for his desired beverage. He retrieved the icy cold can from the bottom of the machine. His mouth seemed to dry out completely, screaming for refreshment at the familiar “shhhtchh” sound as he pulled the metal tab and cracked it open. He might as well have landed in the middle of a commercial with beads of sweat slipping over his temple as he took a long deep guzzle of the crisp cola. Involuntarily, he sighed a loud "Ahhhh!" His body dropped ten degrees cooler and his mind became instantly clearer, more alert.

Suddenly it clicked and he knew exactly where the problem lay.

This could have cost the company thousands of dollars. Worse, it could have cost lives.

Grateful he'd figured it out in time, Roger hurried back toward his office when he heard Dorothy calling his name from the other direction.

"Roger! Roger!" Her voice strained against an underlying panic, "There's a Dr. Verruca on the line for you. It's about your wife."

The waiting blueprints forgotten, he raced to the reception desk and snatched the handset from Dorothy's outstretched hand.

"Hello?"

.....