9. Challenge

The next day, Alex wheeled down to Nate’s office. Once the two friends were in conversation, Alex quickly realized that Nate was more than a little upset.

Nate politely inquired about Alex’s health, his daughter, and his mother and then launched into his grievances. They were mostly directed at Kevin, Quinn, and the “Greater Goal thing.”

“I can’t believe you’re supporting this stuff,” Nate said, practically sneering. “What happened to you? Did the crash rattle your brain?”

Alex just listened. He had brought Nate into Beckley with him. When Nate finished, Alex said, “Nate, give this a chance. I need you.”

Nate frowned and twisted in his chair. He wasn’t happy, but he agreed, “Okay, you’ve got me, boss.” But as soon as Alex left, Nate called several other people in the company to commiserate and conspire to resist the “Greater Goal Takeover.” He had to save the company and save Alex from himself.

Quinn drove Alex home that night. Alex was quiet, but Quinn drew him out. “Quinn, I like what we’re planning with this warehouse session, but it is different from anything I’ve ever done. What if people don’t participate or buy in?”

“Like Sally said, I think the company is hungry for this. Still, why don’t you ‘roll the halls’ and ask for support?”

“Ask for support?”

“You bet. And I expect you will get it.”

Alex sat in the den that night, fiddling with spreadsheets. He was so lost in thought that he didn’t hear or see Rachel slip into the room. She announced herself.

“Ah, hey Dad. Thanks for putting that note in my lunch. Mom used to do that,” Rachel said and stepped forward. “It surprised me. I’ve been thinking a lot about our family. I want to try again.”

Alex held out his arms for a hug. “Thank you, Rachel. Let’s hang out together sometime, do something we would both enjoy.”

“I’ve actually been thinking the same thing, Daddy,” Rachel responded. She plopped down in Alex’s leather chair. “Mom started teaching me about cooking, but then she got sick. We never really got back to it.”

“Your mom was some cook.” Alex fell quiet, remembering his wife buzzing around the kitchen.

“I know, Dad. And you’re a really terrible cook.” She was looking at Alex with an impish grin. “I would still love to learn how to cook, and you could really use the help. Grandma always does the cooking here, but if we got good at it, we could help her out. We could learn together. What do you think?”

The old Alex would have found a way out of this, but the new Alex said, “How do we start, Rachel?”

“Why don’t we make a plan, like you always do for work? We could use your flip thing,” Rachel said, pointing to the flip chart in Alex’s office-bedroom. “I can write for us.” And in her careful printing, Rachel scrawled the outline of a plan for Alex and daughter to cook together.

The next day could not come quickly enough for Alex. He; his mother, Annie; and Rachel were up early and in the car quickly, with Mom at the wheel. Alex felt unsteady on his new crutches, and the prospect of grocery shopping with the girls had him feeling completely awkward. Rachel studied his tense face.

“Don’t worry. It’ll be okay. It’s just grocery shopping. Other dads do this and live.”

Upon entering the co-op market, Rachel took charge and disengaged a shopping cart from the line. “Do you have the list, Dad?”

“Yep, right here.” Bracing himself on one crutch, he handed off a crumpled list.

The differences in father and daughter became clear right away. Alex wanted to go strictly by the list, checking off one item at a time. Rachel, on the other hand, wanted to be a bit more experimental. She was like her mother. On the spot she thought up interesting alternate ingredients and insisted on buying spices that Alex had never even heard of. But despite their differences, they were talking and they were laughing. They were working together.

At the checkout counter Rachel shared the whole cooking story with the cashier.

“Gee … I wish I could do that with my dad,” the young cashier said.

“You can,” Rachel encouraged. “If we can do it,” she looked over at Alex with a wink, “you can too.”

As they were leaving the co-op, a disheveled man approached and asked Alex for spare change to get some food. Alex hesitated, shielded Rachel, and looked down at the sidewalk. But Rachel stepped around Alex and offered her hand. She looked the man in the eye. “Hi, I’m Rachel. Did you say you’re hungry? What’s your name?”

“What? My name … my name is John … John J. Williams,” the man stammered.

“Glad to meet you, John. This is my dad, Alex. Dad, couldn’t we ask Mr. Williams to join us for our ‘feast’ on Saturday?”

Alex was alarmed. “Well … ah … I guess…” He shot Rachel a look of shock, but it did not stop his daughter. On she went.

“Why don’t you come? We live just a couple of blocks away at 6955 Thomas,” pointing over toward their block. “Come on by. In fact, we are going to do this every Saturday, so come whenever you can. We’re going to start cooking around five o’clock and, well, we’re kind of new at this, so we might need some help if you want to eat before eight.”

“Okay,” John said. “Thank you.”

Alex was happy to get away. “Rach, you can’t go inviting strangers to the house. It’s dangerous!”

“It’s my home too, isn’t it, Dad? And besides, he looked hungry and sad. In school we talk a lot about how to reach out to people in need, right in our path. I thought I could invite him because you’d be there to watch over me.”

“I love your heart, Rachel. I just want you to be careful.”

Silently Alex was proud of his daughter. Remembering the embarrassed looks exchanged with the homeless man, he was sure this was the last he would see of John J. Williams.