Clarification: Barry made the trek to Oklahoma to salvage some of the business his company’s afraid of losing because of the layoffs. (His efforts are futile, but we got a good laugh out of his total waste of time.) It was then that Barry met with a dealer that Caleb was particularly tight with. Barry tried to assure the dealer that the company was fine by saying Caleb had been fired for not doing his job. He proceed to run his mouth a little while longer before ending the meeting. This dealer, who knew the real situation not only from Caleb but also from a chat with the president of the company himself, called Caleb immediately after the meeting, and the rest goes from there. Caleb’s pissed–but not as pissed as me, and I swear, if I knew what hotel Barry was staying at, I’d egg his rental car and slash his tires in the night.
Things for Caleb are looking up, though. After only 1 week, he’s gotten more job offers than I can remember and probably a hundred e-mails asking for interviews; granted, some of them are crappy, and some of them are only mildly intriguing. But some of them actually seem worth checking into. On top of all that, he’s got a bunch of local dealer asking him to work as a sort-of agent, or broker, if you will, to go between them and other finance companies for a finder’s fee that could range anywhere from $1000 to $10,000 a pop. And that is something he could do on the side from home in addition to whatever other opportunity might come his way.
I’m not feeling as pitiful today as I was yesterday. I was allowed to sleep until 9:15 this morning and Caleb has been taking care of a lot of the housework–I almost hate to see him find a normal job at this rate–I’m getting so spoiled.
Tomorrow I will drop Cheyenne off at the airport and leave her in the care of her uncle. From there they will go on to California. I was updated on my ex-MIL’s progress this afternoon and things are looking significantly worse than yesterday–and it looked really bad, then, too. If the woman doesn’t die, she’ll be a vegetable for the rest of her life-supported life. I did tell Cheyenne that her mee-maw was in the hospital and that she wouldn’t be able to make it to the wedding. "How bad is it?" she asked. "Because for her to be in the hospital, it’s not just a little cold or something. Is she going to die?"
Jesus. I wasn’t totally sworn to secrecy but I honestly didn’t know how to answer that–so I gave her a lame "Well, your dad will know more than I do and I think he wanted to talk to you about her when you got out there. But do say a little prayer for her tonight." Cheyenne didn’t buy it–I could tell–and she knew I knew more than I let on–and with that, she took the hint and stopped talking. It’s going to suck so bad when she does find out the entire truth. I almost think it would be better for me to tell her rather than my ex, but that’s his mom–his call. And I’m a little relieved I don’t have to do it.