THE ENDORSMENT

THE ENDORSEMENT

Help! I need an antidote for anxiety.

It had been one week. One week of twiddling my fingers and wearing my carpet thin. One week of not hearing back from the DEA.

I was almost foaming at the mouth. Every day like clockwork, I would get to the office before anyone, because I was going stir-crazy at home, amongst my staff. I probably checked the company mail about ten times every hour. When that didn't yield any fruit, I shifted my attention to my personal mail, and then it was back to the company mail once again.

And then I began to ruminate.

Maybe they got some alphabets mixed up. It had happened to me once when I sent a mail to a company and waited for weeks for a reply. They eventually called saying they hadn't gotten any mail from me. Turned out I had mixed up an n with an m.

So maybe that was what probably happened.

Mr. Hendricks did seem impressed, so what was the big hold up about?

A thought occurred to me. Perhaps they wanted to send me a personal text message but didn't have my number. But even as the thought was conceived, I shut it down.

That would have been highly unprofessional of them. And there was the fact that I guarded my phone number like a vault. Only a handful of people knew it. People I could literally swear wouldn't give it out.

I consoled myself with the saying that no news was good news. But the silence from their end was jarring to say the least.

The muted ring of my phone sounded off, taking me away from my scrambled thoughts. I patted my pocket but it was empty, then I remembered I put it on my desk earlier on after receiving a call. Now, it was buried amongst the myriad of files on my table.

Not wanting it to ring off, but not able to find it, I pushed all the files to the side - big mistake - because I watched in horror as they slid across the desk. It was like slow motion, or maybe it was my mind that tried to slow things down.

Unfortunately for me, that only happened in movies.

All the papers in the files landed in a pile, with all the papers strewn all over the floor and my phone right alongside them. With the agility of a two year old, I dived for it. Unfortunately, it stopped ringing before I was able to get a hold of it. Even as I stared at it, upset with myself for being such a doofus, it rang once again.

This time I picked it immediately.

"Alexander Moore, here."

As soon as I heard the chuckle, I mentally slapped myself for not checking the caller ID first.

"Is that anyway to answer your phone?"

I closed my eyes and curled my fist around the edge of my chair. "Hello . . . mother."

There was a pause on the line before she spoke. "Hello, Alex, son. Sorry I wasn't able to come for your wife's funeral, I had some important things to take care of."

I tightened my hands around my phone and tried to swallow a lump that had suddenly erupted in my throat. Oblivious of what I was going through, she continued speaking.

"Anyway, now that that woman is dead, when do you think you can remarry? And this time, it has to be to a woman that suits your status, especially one that can give me a grandchild."

I squeezed my eyes shut and then flexed my neck. My breathing had increased, along with the beating of my heart. I opened my eyes once more and silently counted to ten before I replied. "I was in the middle of a meeting. I'll call you back when I deem it fit to." And then I cut the call.

I knew I had just asked for it, because my phone rang again almost immediately. I picked the call quite alright, but left the phone on the table.

She could talk to herself for all I cared.

Was it a crime to be an only child?

Maybe it was an anathema to marry whomever I pleased?

Oh! This was a good one.

Was it my fault she couldn't accept the fact that Aretha had captivated me from the get go against her wishes?

Whatever way I looked at it, it definitely didn't give her the right to treat Aretha shabbily. She had never liked Aretha, not even when Aretha (who was a professional chef), regularly made her sumptuous food to eat, and would drive to the other side of town to give it to her. Now she had passed, she dared to mock her- even in death?

I shook my head and released a sigh that helped calm my erratic heart beat.

I didn't want to be rude to her but I couldn't stand her attitude any longer. Even after sending word to her about Aretha's passing, she had not come, neither had she called to commiserate with me. Not one time.

What kind of mother was that?

A knock sounded off, cutting off my angry thoughts. The door to my office opened, and Kelly walked in. There was a look on her face I couldn't place. She waved something in the air and it took some seconds for me to realize it was a letter.

"This just came by courier. It has the stamp of the DEA on it."

She placed it on my desk and all I could do was stare at it. They didn't send a mail or place a call after all. They did it the old-fashioned way - by letter.

After a few seconds of staring dumbly at it, I lifted it, the same way one would, precious stones. I've never used glasses before, but suddenly it seemed difficult for me to read what had been boldly emblazoned on the front.

At least, I was able to make out a long slip of paper snugly fitted inside.

"That's right, keep staring at it and it just might open itself." Kelly drawled from in front of me.

I had completely forgotten she was still standing there.

Without wasting anymore time, I took a hold of the paper knife and slowly opened up the edges of the letter. This time, I was clearly able to see the logo of the DEA at the top left.

I skipped the pleasantries and went straight to the body of the letter.

It is with great thought I .......this letter ......In all honesty, I had known...... beginning......that .......Exceva .......the one. When we first talked ......the phone......your passion ....... drive .......and I ..........

I cut off all the unnecessary information and jumped to the end.

A big congratulations,Mr. Moore, The Department of Justice's drug enforcement administration hereby endorses Exceva . . .

My mouth fell open and the letter slipped from my hands.

Kelly was beside me in some seconds. "What's wrong?"

She picked the letter from where it had fluttered to the floor and began to read from the beginning.

It is with great thought I type this letter to you. In all honesty, I had known from the beginning that Exceva was the one. When we first talked on the phone, your passion and drive were palpable to me. You almost bunched it up when you waltzed into your boardroom looking like you had just stepped out from a whorehouse -

"Wait! Is he allowed to type this?

Kelly looked at me with wide eyes.

I couldn't reply. I was too much in shock at that point. She shook her head and continued reading.

. . . but then I saw on the news about the passing of your wife, and I understood clearly what you were going through. Accept my condolences, once again. Anyway, back to the matter at hand, without further ado, the department of Justice's drug enforcement administration hereby endorses Exceva as a cure for killing cancer cells in the early stage. A big congratulations, Mr. Moore.

Kelly looked at me with eyes that had gone big and round. Her mouth opened up in a wide smile and then she hollered, pumping her fist in the air. "Yes. Yes! You did it. Exceva is live!"

My initial shock gave way and I was finally caught up in the excitement pouring out from her.  "Fifteen years, and now it's finally here." I smiled widely.

"This calls for a celebration." She turned to me, a dangerous gleam in her eyes. "And I know just what to use."

She flounced off and returned a few minutes later, smiling from ear to ear with one hand behind her back. She stopped in front of my desk and within a jiffy of an eye, whipped a bottle out from behind her back.

"Champagne, for this momentous occasion." She announced it like she was the Mc of an event.

She popped it open and the cork flew off and landed somewhere on the floor. She took out two flute glasses from my cabinet and poured a healthy amount into each one. We cheered and I took a sip of the bubbly drink.

We did it, Aretha baby, this is for us.

I smiled against the rim of my glass.

"Congratulations, once again, Alex. I never doubted you could do it. You are my hero." Kelly smiled coyly. She traced the rim of the glass with her fingers and then slowly dropped it on my desk, all the while maintaining eye contact.

As she walked towards me, a glint entered her eyes. She stopped within an inch of me and I waited, waited for her to make a move so I could show her I was interested in no one but Aretha.

Her hand lifted in the air, settled on the back of my collar and I froze. Turned into a complete icicle. I closed my eyes, swallowed hard and opened them again, only to see her face had moved closer.

The invisible bonds that bound me, loosened.

I couldn't take it anymore.

I removed her hand from around my neck and side stepped her. "'I've got to get to the lab. Exceva needs me now."