Read Online If You Could See What I See by Cathy Lamb - Free Book Online Page A

became wider, as if they couldn’t believe what I was saying. Lele said, “But I like working here!” as if that would change anything. That thought was echoed by many people.
    “We don’t want to close. As you know, my grandma started this company sewing nightgowns in her room in a boarding house after she picked strawberries all day when she was sixteen. We love the company. It will break my grandma’s heart if we close. It is not the goal.” I bent my head for a second, gathered my thoughts. “However, if some of you want to apply immediately for other jobs, I understand. Please do. We will give you the highest recommendations. I understand if you leave. You have your families to think of first. We have always been a family-centered company and we always will be, but family centered means that we know your family comes first.”
    When I finished, it was quiet. Absolutely silent. No one even seemed to breathe. You could not hear a pin drop, and there were many pins at Lace, Satin, and Baubles.
    “I’m staying,” Maritza said. Her sisters said they were staying, too.
    Abigail Chen raised her hand. “I’m staying, Meggie.”
    “I’m staying, too, Meggie. I’ll see it through,” Delia Latrouelle said. Her sisters—Gloria, Sharon, Toni, and Beatrice—nodded beside her.
    “Me too, Meggie. I’ve been here for decades,” Edith Petrelli said. “I don’t want to be anywhere else.”
    “Your grandma hired me. I will stay with her until the end,” Tinsu said. She is one of our top seamstresses. “I am loyal to her and to you ladies.”
    Lele said, “Me too.” I hoped Dessert Friday was this Friday. We needed it.
    “When Bryson was born ten weeks early and I stayed with him for weeks at the hospital, you all came to visit and you kept paying me,” our custodian/handyman/gardener/electrician Eric Luduvic said. “I’m in, Meggie.”
    “When my partner died, your whole family came to the funeral. Your grandma wouldn’t let me work for a month so I could get my head on straight,” Tom Zillnerson, our marketing manager, said. “I’m not going anywhere. I’ll help.”
    I saw Lacey sway beside me. She looked pale. I saw Tory watching Lacey.
    I didn’t cry. But I felt like crying. “Thank you.” I ignored the waver in my voice. “Thank you.”
    “How do we fix this, Meggie?” Beatrice asked.
    I took a deep breath. “That’s where you come in.”
    I told them I wanted their ideas. To come and talk to me, to write me an e-mail, to draw me a picture of a new product. “Think creatively, go out on a limb in terms of design, production, manufacturing. Think critically. What can we cut? What can we do different? Where is the waste? Talk about it among yourselves and tell me. Tell Tory, tell Lacey. People, this isn’t going to be pretty. We’re all going to take salary cuts, including Tory, Lacey, and me. In fact, percentage wise the three of us have agreed to take the highest cuts, as we feel responsible, but I promise that if we do survive, I’ll make it up to you.”
    They nodded at me.
    I felt the fear, but I felt the strength, too.
    Tory’s voice broke through. “Here we go! Quick, everybody, clear your butts out of the way. Lacey’s gonna toss her cookies again and she needs a line to the bathroom or it’s gonna get gross.”
    Lacey waved, hand over mouth, then darted out. They cleared a line quick, quick, quick.
    We needed to turn this company around quick, quick, quick, too.
     
    “Grandma, I want to talk to you about something.”
    “Then speak.”
    We were out on her front porch that evening, each in a rocking chair. She was in a classic turquoise-colored dress. The baubles: blue aquamarines. She and I had finished dinner: chicken cordon bleu, salad with walnuts and cranberries, and hot bread. I ate the pumpkin cheesecake before dinner, then a beer, then dinner.
    “Meggie, quit drumming your fingers.” She put her cigar down and picked up her whiskey shot glass. “You’re