Chapter 9: Where do I fit in? (part 2)
“Uhm, OK?”
“OK. Well, I'd better let you get cracking on finding a new computer.” The owner rose to his steel-toed feet.
“Uh, fine. Uhm, Albert?”
“Yeah?”
“It would help me a lot if you could let Erica think everything was your or anyone else's idea but mine."
Albert laughed, the lines on his face deepening. “Don't worry, I'll think of something, and if she gives you any trouble, come to me. I need my administration in shape, and even though I respect Erica, I believe she needs your help desperately."
***
As with most temporary solutions, they last the longest, as Mandy was now in her second year at Waldhorst’s. There were changes to which Erica had been able to adapt grudgingly – even she could not deny the charm of a fast internet connection – but as their altercations had increased in number, volume and frequency, Mandy had known with growing certainty that their days together were numbered. Luckily it was Erica who had taken the step, resigning in favor of a receptionist job about a year ago. Now, after a difficult period of being the only one in charge of trimming the fat, most things were now running to Mandy's satisfaction.
However, for all the peace and smoothness with which she run the daily operations, Mandy was growing more and more restless. She did enjoy learning new procedures and software such as payroll, meeting with Herb Winters, their tax advisor, and she loved their team. However, the fact remained that business was not her dream. Mandy could not really regret having majored in business and computer science, but no more could she deny the ever intensifying urgency with which her true passion was calling. Mandy longed to design and create, but other than the occasional private projects she had no idea how to find an appropriate outlet. She had been over this dilemma time and time again and had arrived nowhere, all the while well aware she was complaining on a very high level, as despite the lack of challenge, hers was a secure job.
Stifling a sigh, Mandy tore away her gaze from the nothing she had been staring at and turned back to her screen to check the Thunderbird calendar. If she remembered correctly, they were expecting customers soon. Indeed they were, and Mandy prepared the company's consultation room next door to her office with drinks and cookies as she always did, before she slipped into the safety shoes parked underneath her desk and made her way over to the workshop. Albert would have forgotten as usual. Indeed he was deep conversation with Flo, one of her favorite co-workers, a short man in his early thirties with a blond curly ponytail.
"Albert!" Mandy yelled over the din of the exhaust extraction system and the rattle of various pneumatic hammers. "The Landers, the couple about the headstone, will be here soon!"
"What?" Her boss looked just as confused as Mandy had guessed he would. "Uh... oh yes, uh, shoot, I will be right there, I just need to—"
"It's OK, Albert, I'll take care of them until you're ready,” Mandy waved away his preoccupation, and saw his face break into a relieved smile.
"Thank you so much, Mandy, you are a treasure. I'll be there in five."
A few minutes after Mandy had returned, dusted herself off and slipped back into her boots, a well-dressed couple in their sixties appeared in the entry. Mandy could instantly tell by the pale, gaunt face that the woman was the bereaved party, and she took care to welcome them with a warm but subtle smile and handshake.
"Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Lander, my name is Mandy. Will you come with me, please? Mr. Waldhorst will be right with you."
The couple nodded and followed her, he with his arm around his distressed-looking wife, and Mandy invited them to sit them down at the consultation table.
"What would you like to drink?"
"Roland, dear, I'm not sure I'm ready to pick out a stone." Mrs. Lander was looking at her husband with a pleading expression. “I only went ahead with the traditional burial because Mom always insisted it was the way it should be done, but Dad never wanted a big fuss made over him." She turned to Mandy, her expression apologetic. "I'm sorry, dear, perhaps I never should have set up the appointment. I should be used to talking about him by now but..." She dropped her head into her hands and her husband caressed her shoulders tenderly.
Mandy's heart went out to the woman. Who was capable of making such decisions at a time like that? Funeral directors often didn't even bother telling the bereaved they still had time to make up their minds about the headstones since since the fresh soil on a grave took at least six months to compact. Although Mandy was dimly aware of her lack of authority, the emotions welling up in her at this all-too-familiar dilemma prodded her to speak up. "I understand what you're going through, Mrs. Lander,” she told the woman softly. "I lost my mother to cancer two years ago. My father and she didn't see eye to eye on the funeral arrangements either. She shared your father’s attitude."
Mrs. Lander's troubled gaze slowly rose from her lap and focused on Mandy's intently. "I'm so sorry you lost her, dear." Thankfully she did not reach out to grasp her hand or anything, or Mandy would have broken down here and now. Even after two years the wound was still raw. "And... and what did you end up deciding?"
"Well, in the end it was something my father said that convinced her," Mandy began softly. "He'd been reading an article about how more and more people nowadays are choosing an anonymous grave or a forest burial over a traditional one, and how it deprived their loved ones of the chance to mourn them properly. My father told my mom he needed a place to mourn her, too, and that she should leave the decision up to him since he was the one left behind. In the end she gave him free rein. When she...”
Mandy heard and felt herself choke. It was still difficult to talk about it.
"When she was gone, we sat together and thought about what kind of stone would reflect most the kind of person she was. The process was both painful and precious to both of us, and in the end the stone couldn't have been more… well, her. My dad visits it every few weeks."
Mrs. Lander had been listening with rapt attention. All traces of distress had disappeared, now replaced with thoughtfulness. "What does her headstone look like?"
Now that topic never failed to draw forth a smile from Mandy. "May I show you? I have a photograph saved in my phone."
"Oh, please do, dear."
A moment later Mandy passed her phone to Mrs. Lander, watching her study the stack of sandstone books with one opened on top into which were carved her mother's name as well as date of her birth and death.
"She was a writer?" Mrs. Lander looked up at her with an openly curious expression.
"A librarian."
"It is beautiful.”
"It really is."
"You know," the elderly lady began, handing Mandy back her phone, "I've ever thought about it that way: 'How would I like to mourn him?'"
"I like that thought,” her husband put in, and Mandy remained silent to give them some time to think. "You know, dear, maybe we've come to the right place after all."
"I was just about to say the same thing!" his wife exclaimed, looking almost happy now. "Thank you so much, uh, what was your name again?" she interrupted herself with an embarrassed smile.
"Mandy. Mandy Huhn."
"What a cheerful name,” she smiled and reached over to squeeze Mandy's hand, a non-condolence gesture and therefore something she could accept. "Mandy, you've given us some food for thought here and I am very grateful to you."
"It was my pleasure,” Mandy smiled back at the couple warmly, meaning every word. She could not remember when she had last felt so alive. Ironic, actually, as she had just consulted a bereaved couple. It was in this moment that Albert chose to appear, and he shook hands with Mr. and Mrs. Lander. When Mandy rose to say her goodbyes, however, his strong hand on her arm prevented her from leaving.
"No, please stay, Mandy."
Wordlessly Mandy held his gaze for a few moments, but in the end she simply nodded, closed the door and resumed her seat.
"Mandy, you continue to astonish me." Albert began when the couple had left. “Not only have you whipped our office into shape, but you've just convinced a hesitant couple they're in good hands with us. I've heard most of your conversation but didn't want to interrupt."
"You have? Uh, I was not sure whether I was out of line to share—"
"No, you weren't." Albert insisted, his wise eyes boring into hers. "In fact I believe it was the only thing that could have convinced that woman, and I'm almost 100% certain we'll get their order."
“I agree.”
The Landers had left on an almost cheerful note, and they had promised that they would call soon.
“Mandy, I would like you to sit in on more consultations," Albert continued, “you've given me an idea here with your 'individual mourning' concept. Customers might open themselves up to a traditional burial again if they knew we can offer such an individual way of remembering the people they've lost. Plus, you've proven with your input for our website and most of all with your mother's stone that you've got a knack for design."
Mandy was about to object she neither had a degree nor any professional training in headstone design, but Albert held up his hand, forestalling any such argument.
“What do you say to trying your hand at designing the Lander's stone and see how you like it? Then we can talk again."
He was right. Why shouldn't she give it a try? She had always wanted to create her own designs, and even though she would never have thought her first real design job would be a headstone, it could be a viable option.
“All right.”
it's motivating. Besides, the story is finished. It just needs some through revision since I wrote it before I realized who I was. Anyway, keep pushing 
