Best Foot Forward (11 page)

It was the end of the day. She sat in her chair looking out the window. An elevated train rumbled by. She didn't move when I came in.

“Do you want me to drive you home, ma'am?”

“Not just yet.”

I'd gone the miles with this woman—seen her shot down and seen her get back up. I walked to her window and opened it. A big Chicago wind knocked her geranium plant off the sill. It crashed on the floor, but the planter didn't break.

I picked it up. “Now, that's quality.”

“It is indeed,” she said sadly.

“There are things that get knocked down by the wind, Mrs. Gladstone, and they don't break. They're too strong. Like you.”

She tried smiling bravely, but her heart wasn't in it.

“Mrs. Gladstone, you're still Director of Quality Control. You're still on the board of directors. You've still got a voice in this company, don't you?”

“I'm not so sure.”

“Well, I am. You've got a job to do. You've got to show the things that are wrong so that this company can be made better. Isn't there room for the quality brands in this new company? Isn't that why Ken Woldman wanted you in this position? Lots of people will pay the money for high-end shoes!” Dirt was getting on my clothes from the geranium, but I didn't care. “Mrs. Gladstone, other than all this mess with your son, what was the hardest thing you've had to face with the company?”

Her old head lifted; her chin got stiff.

“It was when Floyd died suddenly and I had to take the reins.”

“That must have been a killer, ma'am. . . . I didn't mean it like that.”

She sat there lost in thought. “I didn't know what I was doing.”

“But you figured it out.”

“I was the back office person, he was the one always up front.”

“But you found a way.”

“People didn't think I was up to it.”

“But you were.”

“And the memories of him in every corner . . . Lord, I didn't think I could keep going. I didn't think I could sit in his chair.”

“But you did.”

Her eyes narrowed, but she was smiling. “You're a very persistent young woman.”

She had that right. “No disrespect, ma'am, but a wuss would get trampled in this place.”

 

We closed the store at 7:00 P.M.

Murray stood before the bell, holding the mallet. “When you hear this sound, remember the world's gone mad.”

The
booonnnggg
was still reverberating as we walked out the door.

 

The pressure of schoolwork and my work schedule was building.

Would I drive Faith to school in the mornings?

Only if we're out the door by 7:00 A.M.—no excuses.

She said fine, then the excuses came.

“I can't find anything to wear.”

“I couldn't get to sleep last night.”

“You were in the bathroom so long this morning.”

Faith sat silently in the car as I hit four detours this morning. I was coming up on the Michigan Avenue bridge that arched over the Chicago River. It was close to my favorite part of the city. I thought about bridges and how they're built to connect two places and how we needed to be bridge builders in this world because there are so many places where people can't connect.

I sat in my car, boxed in by rush hour. Sat there, God's agent, without an angel or a burning spear in sight. I didn't even have good company.

I stared at the river and opened my hands. “Part,” I said jokingly. “Something part and give me a break.”

Faith looked at me like I was nuts.

Just then the screaming policeman who was directing traffic and making everything worse walked away in disgust. Miraculously the traffic cleared.

I glanced upward, made a left turn across the bridge, and we headed to school.

 

Mrs. Gladstone faced the video conferencing monitor from her office in Chicago and said to the management team assembled in Dallas, “I have a question, gentlemen.”

“Go ahead, Madeline,” Ken Woldman replied.

“Who authorized changing the design of the Rollings Walkers?”

The men around the table looked surprised. Elden's snake tail rattled.

Ken Woldman turned to Elden, who said he wasn't aware of any change.

“We're getting double-digit returns on that brand.” She didn't mention what Gus had said.

“That's not good.” Ken Woldman looked at Elden, who wrote something on a pad.

“We'll look into it, Mother.”

“When can I expect the report?”

“A few weeks.” Elden tapped his pen impatiently. “These things take time.”

“Make it
faster,
” Ken Woldman ordered.

Elden nodded stiffly.

“And about this in-store TV business,” Mrs. Gladstone continued. “I'd like our Chicago store to be part of the test group.”

They looked surprised again, but not as surprised as me.

Was she kidding? Our store wasn't on the list.

Ken Woldman said that could be arranged.

Then she took her reading glasses off and looked straight at the camera.

“I will tell you all that we have two choices in this company merger. One is to refuse to look at the success of both of our companies and decide that only one way is best. The other is to understand that two different business cultures can only form a strong partnership when there is respect and appreciation for differences. If we can embrace the best that we both offer, gentlemen, I'd say we have hope for survival. I would advise we either live up to our new advertising slogan, Putting Our Best Foot Forward, or find another one.”

Then she demanded a “cooling-off period” where no Gladstone employee would be let go until “every available avenue for unity had been explored.”

There was no other business.

The screen went blank.

She closed her eyes. “All right, I got through that without screaming.”

“Mrs. Gladstone, why do you want to have that TV thing put in here?”

“I don't want to have it anywhere, Jenna. But if other stores have to take the heat, we'll bloody well take it here, too. I believe in suffering with the troops.”

Not me. I've tried that at home.

 

I was standing on the sales floor wondering where the big screen would go and how it would destroy the store and life as we know it. I didn't have time to wonder long. A mother with a little girl came in. The girl immediately headed toward the children's tree. She looked longingly at the names on the leaves.

Four more customers came in. Normally, I try to connect with the kids; not today. I raced from person to person.

That's when the front door opened again and in walked Tanner Cobb. He was dressed nicely, too, in a shirt and a tie and much less baggy pants.

He smiled at me. “I came to work.”

“Well, good . . . I guess,” I said back.

He headed toward the children's tree. The little girl was still studying those leaves. He bent down to her height.

“You want to write your name on the leaf?”

“I can't write yet,” she told him.

Tanner got a leaf and a crayon. “I'll write it for you.”

“It's Anna Elizabeth Mastrianni.”

Tanner smiled. “You want me to show you how to write your first name?”

“Okay.” She knelt down to watch. The mother was smiling from across the store.

“It starts with a cool letter. The first letter of the alphabet.”

“A,” she said proudly.

“You got it.” Tanner showed her how to draw an A. She drew it, kind of, but took the whole leaf to do it. He looked at me. “I hope you got a lot of leaves.”

“I do.”

I sold the mother three pairs of summer clearance sandals and Anna learned how to write her name. Gladstone's is a full-service shoe store.

I sold a man five pairs of sneakers. I thought about ringing the bell, but Murray would have killed me.

Three more customers came through the door. I'm good when it's busy, but I couldn't handle them all.

I grabbed Tanner's arm and gave him everything I knew about beginning sales in one desperate breath. “Be yourself. Tell them you're new, don't pretend you know anything you don't. Help people as much as you can and I'll do the rest.”

He nodded.

One more tip: “If you mess up, I'll kill you.”

Being a big sister is excellent training for management.

He headed toward the prettiest woman in the place. “Can I help you, miss?” He gave her a blinding smile. Mr. Electric. She handed him a blue evening shoe she wanted to try on, and he actually said, “The blue on those beads will look great with your eyes.”

That woman melted in a little pool right at his feet.

Mrs. Crenshaw, one of my regulars, was wailing about how her son-in-law wasn't taking care of his family like he should and how she was running after her little granddaughter, trying to help out.

“You're doing what my grandma did for me,” I told her. “We couldn't have gotten along without her.” I sold her a budget-conscious high-top walker that would give her extra cushioning—perfect for catching granddaughters.

I rang her up. “I wish these shoes would make your son-in-law a better person.”

“Jenna, if you ever find shoes like that—”

“I'd buy them all up, ma'am. Believe me.”

Tanner was running back and forth bringing shoes as I called out the sizes and the styles.

He was seeing up close and personal how some customers act, too. A gruff guy tossed him a Burger King bag. “Throw this out!” the guy ordered.

Tanner stood tall. “Do I look like a janitor?”

Oh, please, mister, don't say yes. I rushed over, grabbed the bag. Now an older woman was waving at Tanner. “May I speak to your manager, please?”

“She's my manager.”

“Not exactly.”

Tanner said, “I get my very own 'cause I'm a special case.”

I lurched forward. “We're working here to help youth, of which I am a member, find their, I mean
our,
rightful place in the business community.”

Tanner smiled. “It's keeping me out of jail.”

“He's such a kidder!” I shrieked, but the woman smiled.

“I had a job when I was your age—I sure gave my boss a hard time,” she said.

“Yeah?” Tanner laughed. “What'd you do?”

I just let them converse. I waited on five people in ten minutes and sold ten pairs of shoes. I thought of ringing the bell to make the point that
I
was the only one working.

Finally a break.

Tanner wanted to know what good leather felt like—I showed him.

“See how soft it is?”

He felt the shoe inside and out. “Must have been a real chore handling things without me,” he said.

I smiled. “We got by.”

“I'm not going to . . .” He swallowed hard. “Mess up anymore.”

“That's good.”

He touched his tie. “You just get so many chances.”

Best foot forward, Mrs. Gladstone led the way and Tanner Cobb put his feet exactly where she showed him.

“Let's look at your strengths, Tanner,” she announced. “How would you describe them?”

He put his hands in his pockets. “I dunno.”

“Mr. Cobb, do you mean to tell me you have walked this earth for sixteen years and you don't know one thing you're good at?”

He shifted. “I was pretty good at stealing.”

I'm not sure that's what she was looking for.

“Well, then.” Her face was determined. “What, exactly, do you have to know to be good at stealing?”

He looked surprised. “I guess . . . you've got to read a situation, know the patterns in a store, you've got to move quickly, got to think of ways to hide the stuff so you can get out the door.” He was seriously thinking now. “And when there'd be a few of us, I was the leader. I had the plan.”

“Well, all those
talents
can be used in other ways,” she retorted.

“Huh?”

Mrs. Gladstone folded her arms. “Observe customers to get an idea of how people react, understand people's patterns and how to respond to them, move quickly when you're working, be creative in how you get the job done, and use your leadership ability to motivate others. I dare say, you already know how to do that. Businesses are looking for people with just those skills, people who can implement a plan.”

“You're kidding.” He laughed out loud.

“Oh, we human beings put ourselves in such little boxes. My Lord. Anything can be turned around.” She stared right through him. “What else are you good at?”

He smiled. “I'm pretty good with the ladies.”

“That takes personality, young man.”

“And
attitude.
” He leaned back.

“Which you seem to have no shortage of.” Mrs. Gladstone stood there like the alpha business female she was. “Tanner, from now on you'll be officially reporting to Jenna, who will be your manager. You will be able to track your performance based on the tasks you complete. She will give you weekly assessments and help you to stay on track. If you have goals you want to pursue here, we'll certainly take those into consideration. I think people do their best jobs when they understand their strengths. And you've got a lot of them. I'm sure Jenna will find more.”