Karma - Nothing Says Victory like the Old Karma Bus hitting you broadside

After Chappy had made his announcement that he was dazed and confused, I realized at some point my life was going to change drastically once more.  I had not held a "real job" as he had defined for close to two years.  It was time to brush up the resume. I suggested to Chappy that I accompany him one Saturday that he decided to go into the office.  He did not want me to go, but I explained that I needed to type up a current resume and make copies for my job search.  He didn't have a problem with it now.

I had a plan, he just didn't realize how sharp on my toes I could be while appearing to be helpless and incapacitated by his betrayal.  His administrative assist's desk sat outside of his office, you would be amazed at what you can discover when you are sitting at that same desk, but she is home enjoying her weekend.

I acted as if I had no clue how to use this Windows program that allowed me to type and save my resume on to a disc. This allowed me more time to browse as he would think that I was struggling to construct this masterpiece which would allow me to return to the real world and he could move on without guilt.

I had brought a disc with  me to copy my resume on once I had typed it.  What he didn't know? I had typed it on the computer at home that had the same software.  I really just needed copies as we didn't have a printer at home.

As I sat there at Karen's desk, I searched for clues that would reveal this mysterious symptom my husband was suffering from, the "I'm not happy, not sure if I want to be married" symptom of an extramarital affair.

We lived in the South. One thing about those who are born and raised in the South, they are very kind, well mannered, yes, ma'am, no sir, kind of people. They attend church on a regular basis and come from close knit families.  They stick together and while they are human, they keep their skeletons in a closet.  Powerful men have mistresses all the time, but they are discreet and they certainly don't parade it around in the office.

Dennis, former President of Crawford was not from the South and his mistress worked at Crawford as well.  He made the mistake of parading her around and not caring what other's thought.  The man sitting in the big chair, was one hundred and ten percent Southern and he did not approve of the actions reported back to him after the trip to Bermuda.  Dennis was relieved of his duties as it was quite clear his focus had strayed from the company that once thrived with soaring stock prices  to plummeting pennies on the dollar. The paper the stock was printed on was worth more than the stock itself, as his focus turned to his latest acquisition, his mistress.

The rumors about this affair spread like wild fire among staff.  The support staff  fanned that flame as "she" had been one of them and held the position of his assistant.  "She" had promoted herself to a newly created position that no one really knew what her new responsibilities were.  Again, jealously is an emotion that feeds frenzy among those who think they are missing out or were overlooked.

Karen was Chappy's assistant.  She was a little older than I was and a true Southern lady. As I sat there at her desk, I noticed a spiral binder with the words "call log" imprinted on the cover.  I opened it up to discover the old pink return call form that was popular before voice mail was invented.  The unique feature of this spiral log was that it stored carbon copies of all telephone messages that were taken and passed on. Did I just find a gold mine here?  I opened the binder and started to browse recognizing many of the names printed in blue carbon.  One name in particular appeared over and over.

What raised my eye brow was that early on in this log, around January, the messages were simple, professionally documented, "Courtney Dewey" noting the caller, the time of the call and a simple box checked to return her call with a phone number where she could be reached.

As the month's passed, either Courtney's calls were not being returned or Karen had grown tired of this interruption that required her to take yet another message. The messages now reflected in large letters, printed across the from "Courtney Called!" with no return phone number noted. She seemed to call a little too often for an employee.  She either needed a lot of guidance from her superior or she was seeking guidance of another nature from her supervisor.   I pulled out my pocket size private eye spiral notebook that I kept in my purse for special occasions, just like this and  noted the exact dates of each call.  I risked being caught as my back was to the door where Chappy could exit any any given moment.

I quickly dropped it in the lovely Coach purse that my loving husband had bought for me, printed several copies of the resume on my disc and announced I was ready to go whenever he was.

Several weeks had passed by the time I had built up the courage to call Karen at work.  Remember it is all in the timing.  Chappy was out of the office as usual and I had just discovered the cell phone directory noting Courtney as "different" from his other staff.

Karen answered the phone and after some simple exchanges of pleasantries, I presented my concerns.  I revealed the recent office visit, the phone log, the conversation of Courtney being upset that Chappy didn't call her back immediately that Saturday that he was mowing the lawn and I was being self tutored on the ins and outs of cell phone directories.

She was quiet at first.  I was asking her to speak out of school with regard to her manager.  "Miss Cindy, I do not want to say any thing ill about Mr. Jack, but I do have my own suspicions and I have requested a transfer to another area.  I had so much respect for him, but he has changed as you have noticed."

Oh, a wave of nausea rolled over my stomach. "I am sorry to put you in this position, but you've said enough, thank you for your time." The call completed, the suspicions checked as confirmed, notations made in my journal.  Life went on.

After Chappy was demoted, I contacted Karen. I had kept in touch with her periodically, remembering her birthday with flowers and a card.  She no longer worked as Chappy's assistant, but she still worked there.

"Miss Karen, how are you?" Again, exchanging pleasantries and catching up on the latest with her grandchildren. After a short conversation, I asked, "Do you know what happened that Chappy was transferred to Boston?" 

I was no longer the wife of her manager, this conversation was woman to woman. She was discreet but she did allude to the "rumors" she had heard from fellow coworkers.  Chappy had placed Courtney in Denver originally and an opening in Tampa opened up in the Spring of 2000, their "romance" was beginning to bud, this happened to coincide with when he stopped sharing so much information with me about his newest addition to his staff.

An employee in the Southwest division wanted to transfer to the Southeast division as her grandson was terminally ill and she wanted to be closer to her daughter and grandson.   She was more than qualified for the position and had seniority over the other employee who had also applied at the encouragement of her direct supervisor.  The new employee had just been hired and did not possess the knowledge of the employee in the Southwest district.  The new employee was a "favorite" of the manager who directed the sales in that region. He, Chappy, transferred the new employee to Tampa.  I am confident it was two fold, one it was closer to home and two, Courtney's mother lived in Georgia and was ill. Courtney wanted to move closer to home, no different than the employee who wanted to move closer to a terminally ill grandson.

But in the world of business, this one move, crumbled a man who had worked hard to get where he was. It had cost him his marriage and it was now going to cost him his position in the home office.

The employee in the Southwest district had heard the rumor when she made an inquiry on why her request for transfer had been denied. She didn't take it sitting down, she stood up and made sure she was heard.  The news of the indiscretion traveled quickly from human resources to the office of the man sitting in the big chair.  He once more had to deal with an employee  who refused to keep his personal affairs out of the office.

There was one slight twist that had to be handled appropriately or the big man in the chair might come crashing down as well.  He had hired this woman himself.  She was the college room mate of his daughter who also worked for Crawford. It was a kind gesture not a calculated hire. Courtney did not have the experience to be in a larger market, the employee in the Southwest did.

The big  man dug a little deeper and apparently did not like what he found.  The big man liked Chappy, he did produce results, but this had to be addressed.  It was no different that what he had just addressed when he fired the President. He demoted Chappy three levels below where he currently sat. He fired the woman in Tampa and he transferred the woman in the Southwest district to the Tampa office.

There you had it.  Chappy was caught and he was lucky because of his job performance that he had a job.  He was transferred to Boston where the employee there had been suffering short timers disease and had stopped producing the business. He had his marching orders to increase the business or he'd be history as well.  Hence his statement that he was going to have to work harder to prove himself worthy that day we sat in the  cafe having breakfast so long ago.  Courtney was  unemployed with no where to go.

This occurred in late May or early June of 2000. He brought Courtney up to Atlanta in July after she was fired.  He had leased the apartment and she was living in it. That is when he decided to move into the spare bedroom. He moved a few weeks later.  He'd been taking things without my knowledge and moving them into the apartment that they would soon share.

He had to serve me divorce papers, he was in too deep to back out now.  She needed him.  He had placed her in this predicament with the encouragement of applying for the transfer. He was between a rock and a hard place as within weeks after moving, he had been forced to pay me a substantial monthly stipend which left him little to pay his own expenses and support his mistress.

Karma.  Patience. Timing. In the end, there is justice.  You may have a broken heart, but other's have it much worse than you.  You have to remember that when you hit rock bottom.