Path to Convergence
Copyright© 2025 by Vonalt
Chapter 7: You Can Choose Your Friends But Not Your Family
Things had been going fantastic. There had been a truce in place for several weeks now, and both sides seemed to be holding up their side of the agreement. I would have been accused of slipping if I hadn’t set up a means to do the old ‘Trust But Verify’ on the Madison organization, and I’m sure that they were doing the same on us.
I had been officially back in the CEO’s seat for several months now according to my desk calendar, and we were seeing some substantial growth in our Middle East market. The people who were in control had come to expect excellence from the Mercer name. I was careful to make sure that expectation was met.
Johannes and I were discussing our company’s business potential in the domestic intelligence community at lunch one day. We agreed that the defense industry’s future was softening; in other words there wasn’t as much business to chase with the Soviet Union being no more. China was an up and coming adversary, but they weren’t there yet. Johannes predicted that they would be a force to be reckoned with in another ten to fifteen years. They were insignificant until then. Johannes was convinced that the former Soviet Bloc countries were where the growth potential would be, along with the market that I opened up with my contacts in the Middle East.
He suggested that we should start developing relationships with potential clients in the former State of East Germany, Poland, the Balkans, and the former Soviet States around the Caspian Sea. He also thought that the former Soviet States like the Ukraine, Estonia, Latvia, and Lithuania had great potential for the types of business we were soliciting, mainly analysis, security, and resource development. The Balkans had lots of potential as there were centuries of ethnic conflicts about to erupt. In his words, “They had the need for analysts, but lacked the finances to support it.” Johannes didn’t think that they were a total waste of our marketing, just one that was further down the list for potential business.
People on the home front were tired of high government spending. The spending didn’t have the charisma of a Reagan to support it. Bush wasn’t a bad President, he just didn’t have Reagan’s personality to sell it. Besides, there was a former GM hanger-on out of Texas who was against big governmental spending. He was a quirky, nerdy character, who along with his presentations, right down to the best charts and graphs money could buy, was a great showman. I don’t think that anyone took him seriously, but he had big enough following that he would be a thorn in the Republicans’ side.
The opposition Democrats had the same hangers-on who ran during each presidential election and would drop out when they ran out of money, except that there was a new face in the Democratic side of the race this time. He was the Governor of Arkansas, his politics were colorful, and he had some questionable controversies. The Governor’s wife was also a driving force that could be best described as scary in her own right.
I didn’t feel good about the upcoming election cycle and suggested to Johannes that we should spread our portfolio of potential clients and get more aggressive in the foreign intelligence markets.
My hiring of Anotoly Andropov was a brilliant move if I do say so myself. He was familiar with the Eastern European market, knew who the players were, and who had the money. I made him Manager of our Eastern European Group and he spent his time calling on former work associates, renewing relationships, and selling his former comrades about the benefits of having Mercer, Frisch, & Associates do your intelligence analysis work for you. Our former GRU/Spetsnaz head had all the working techniques of a used car salesman. He was successful, brought us lots of business, and made himself and Mercer, Frisch, & Associates a lot of money.
It was on a Wednesday night that things got weird in my private life. I was in my home office going over the points of a proposal that I had put together for the newly formed government of Latvia for us to do backdoor analysis for their intelligence service. It wasn’t a big moneymaker, but it would help keep the lights on.
There was an insistent ringing of our doorbell and the liberal usage of the antique door knocker on our front door. Karen was upstairs with Imelda getting the twins ready for bed, and she was elected to read them the latest chapter in their bedtime story.
Andi went to answer the door, along with Beast and the Dobermans. I noticed that Beast was doing his low level threatening growl he did deep in his throat, and the Dobermans sounded equally excited when she answered the door. There were some agitated words being tossed around between Andi and whoever was at the door. Andi didn’t bother me as she knew that I was busy working, and that didn’t like to be disturbed when I was in the zone as I was that evening.
She went to the bottom of the stairs and called up to Karen to come down instead. I heard her calling, and appreciated Andi’s thoughtfulness as I continued working. Karen must have come down, and I soon heard her voice in the back-and-forth conversation between her, Andi, and whoever was at the door. Things must have gotten increasingly tense, as I heard Beast give his final warning, the one he gives before he attacks. I then heard Karen say, “I asked you not to come in. You’re not invited, and Beast will make sure that you don’t. This is your final warning.”
That was when I heard a voice that I was familiar with, one I hadn’t heard in a while. A couple of years, in fact. I decided that it would be best to take a break and join Karen and Andi out in the front entrance way. I marked my place in the proposal I was reviewing, opened the door, and braced myself for the worst possible situation.
The years had not been good to my mother, and she was being extremely combative with Andi and Karen. Both of my ladies were trying their best to remain respectful and polite, and insistent that my mother and her party would not be allowed in the house at the same time. The others who accompanied my mother were my no good brother and some chubby man in a poorly fitting suit holding a beat up Samsonite briefcase in front of him, as well as a legal document as if it was a shield that would protect him from any defense that Karen and Andi mounted that would prevent my mother’s entrance.
My mother was screaming, “I am here to get my share and you’re not going to deny me my share of James’ estate. Neither you or those little brats will keep me from what I am entitled to. I got this court document right here that says so.”
“You would be right if I was dead mother, but I am very much alive as you can see. Now, before I call the cops and have you removed from my home, where did you get the idea that I had passed away?” I angrily said.
My mother looking surprised at me standing there, responded, “When we were cleaning out your father’s town house, we found his scrapbook he kept on you, and your brother saw the headline that said you were dead. I had Gus here check into what would be my share of your money. You wouldn’t your mother to go without, after all.”
This line of questioning brought up even more questions that I needed answered, like where are my father and stepmother, and why are my mother and no-account brother rifling through my father’s possessions?
“What happened to Dad and my stepmother, Mother?” I asked, trying to keep things non-confrontational. “They were both in good physical condition last time I saw him and her, and I don’t think that I heard him doing any complaining about any health issues.”
“Your father and his wife passed away in their sleep from a natural gas leak caused by their hot water heater,” my mother manner of factually said. “The coroner said that they didn’t feel any pain.”
Why did I think that they had some help in passing on into the next life? I would give Lawrence a call in the morning, and ask him to check on their deaths.
“Why didn’t anyone make an attempt to let me know that Dad had passed?” I asked, perturbed.
Mom answered, “No one knew how to get a hold of you, besides everyone believed that you were dead.”
“You could have called Karen and let her know,” I said getting more frustrated by the minute talking to my mother.
“She isn’t family, James,” my mother said, quite pleased with herself for coming up with such a biting response.
“I think that you should leave, and please forget that I ever was your son, Mother,” I angrily said. “Take this psycho you have always said was my brother, which I seriously doubt, with you.”
Gus, my mother’s attorney, took the opportunity to swap out the form he’d been holding and replace it with another one out of his briefcase. Looking up at me as if nothing unpleasant had transpired earlier, he said, “Since we can now substantiate that you didn’t expire, how much of your income are you contributing to your mother’s support?”
He glanced around my home, doing a quick mental calculation of my supposed earning potential.
“May I suggest twenty percent before taxes? That should leave you enough to live comfortably here in Washington.”
Gus finished his pitch, and I just stood there for a moment, mouth open, staring. Did he really just say that?
It was the stupidest offer that I’d heard in years, maybe ever, and he made it in my own front entrance. I’d been standing in this exact spot the last time I’d felt this level of fury.
“Get out of my house,” I said, my voice low and even, “Before I let the dogs loose. Show up here again, and the police will escort you off my property.”
He smiled like we were haggling over a used car.
“Come now, Mr. Mercer. We can surely find a number. There’s no need for legal jousting, this is family, after all.”
Beast’s ears went up. His tail stiffened. I think that he’d sensed that I’d had enough, then he started forward. It was as if Beast knew it was time to take out the trash. A low growl formed in his throat, and he moved as if to attack. My mother and brother quickly got off my front porch, not wanting to get bitten. Gus stood there, waiting to see if I would make a counter-proposal. The stupid, greedy fool was too dumb to realize that he was about to be bitten.
The chubby lawyer’s smile flickered. My mother and brother moved fast, stepping back, hands raised like they were surrendering. My mother hooked an arm through Gus’ and yanked him backwards through the door and off the porch.
They clattered down the steps. Sidewalk, safety.
I slammed the door so hard that the frame rattled, flipped the lock, and leaned against it. My heart was in my throat. My ears roared. It took minutes, long minutes, before my blood pressure stopped trying to blow the top of my head off.
Karen and Andi slipped in on either side of me, their arms warm against mine, their presence quiet but steady. I let out a breath that I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. They knew, without me saying a word, just how much that exchange with my mother had shaken me to the core.
My mother alone was enough to drain the life out of me. Add in my creepy, psycho brother, and it turned into a full-blown nightmare reunion, but that attorney she dragged along ... that smug, oily little vulture ... was in a league all his own. A real corker.
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