Chapter 20

Shortly after Labor Day, Emily Amelia Hardwick made up her mind to go down to her bank. Emily always thought of Chicago Trust Company as her bank. After all, her great-grandfather was one of the original investors when it was founded, and the Hardwicks had been banking there ever since. Emily made up her mind to see Donald Martin and find out what was going on.

Over the last few weeks Emily had noticed that she received particularly good treatment from small merchants whenever she gave them her check on Chicago Trust. Many were immigrants, she knew. Yet they spoke of "their bank" and "the twins who aren't." Clearly, she thought, something very strange is going on. She asked Charles to bring the car around and she set off to see Donald Martin. Donald had been her banker for years. Emily had almost started a revolution when she heard he might be fired. She liked Donald Martin, even if his daughter, Cynthia, was a snippy little pill.

Emily Hardwick was sixty-eight years old and the last of the Hardwicks. As a spinster, she realized that when she died her family would cease to exist. This inevitability didn't bother her. What did bother her was the money. Normally, when money was made, it was dissipated by the pyramid-shaped structure of generations, with each generation far more numerous than the one before. Even the largest fortunes could rarely survive the combined onslaughts of inheritance taxes and proliferating progeny.

Not the Hardwicks. Its family tree had been diamond-shaped. It began with the fur trade in the early eighteenth century and became most numerous around the middle of the nineteenth century. Since then it had been contracting. She had grown up in the family mansion on Chicago's Near North Side, but a few years earlier had sold the property on which now stood a huge office building. People in Chicago had wanted her to make the family home a museum but she would not hear of it. It had served the family and she didn't want strangers traipsing through it. Now she was amused by the extent to which the land sale had added to the family fortune, now greater than $200 million.

The reason the money bothered her was she had no one to leave it to. Her lawyers advised her to establish a charitable foundation and name it as her beneficiary. She considered the idea but didn't like it. She knew of too many foundations devoted to "good works" which translated into supporting all of the trendy and with-it causes. Moreover, too often these were causes and organizations whose purposes were antithetical to the source of the money supporting them. She knew of one famous foundation in which a senior family member resigned because of policy disagreements with the foundation's Board of Directors.

Emily was different from most of her society friends. Unlike them, she had investigated her family's background in depth. This provided her with an awareness of the risks that had been taken to amass and build the family fortune. She realized that, had any of a wide range of events unfolded differently, on a number of occasions over the years the family would have been wiped out financially. Her research surfaced the names of dozens of people associated with her ancestors who had taken different tacks and had been financially destroyed. This went back to financial panics in the nineteenth century. It was nothing new.

Emily Amelia was gray-haired and gray-eyed. Her eyes were her most striking feature: they were as sharp and piercing as an eagle's. Her carriage was erect and her body appeared spare. She was a person who knew who she was. Arriving at the bank, she asked a guard where Mr. Donald Martin could be found. Upon being told, she took the elevator to the executive floor and marched up to the receptionist.

Jean Robbins saw Miss Hardwick marching up to her desk. Oh, oh, she thought, Here's trouble! Miss Hardwick hasn't been here in months. She smiled and said, "Good morning, Miss Hardwick. May I help you?"

"I'm here to see Donald Martin. Is he in the bank this morning?" she asked politely. Emily was always polite to everyone.

Jean buzzed Mary Thomas. Oops! she thought, It's Mary Martin, now. "Mary," she said, "It's Miss Hardwick to see Mr. Martin!"

Mary knew Don had no visitors so she ran out to the reception area. Her hand was outstretched in greeting as she approached Emily Amelia. "Good morning, Miss Hardwick! It's so good to see you again. It's been such a long time!"

Emily looked at Mary and her eyes widened. She said, "Why Mary Thomas, what has happened to you? You're beautiful! I haven't seen you look so good in ... my heavens, it must be twenty years now." She took Mary's hands in hers and looked at the woman and saw the love in her eyes. She asked softly, "Who is the lucky man? I can see the love shining in your eyes."

Mary didn't even blush. She said, "Thank you so much. I'm very glad it shows. It's Don. I'm Mary Martin now."

Emily beamed and then frowned. "Mary Thomas, why was I not informed? You two are my most favorite people in this bank. I must send you something nice. Now, shall we see Donald?"

Emily was pleased by Donald Martin's appearance as well. He and Mary both looked so much younger and so vibrant. She congratulated him and then immediately went to the business at hand. Emily Amelia didn't beat around the bush. She demanded to know what was happening between the bank and the small merchants. Why was she now being greeted so warmly?

Don smiled and told her very briefly about the bank's new lending program. He didn't mention that Cindy was in charge. After he completed his explanation, Emily said nothing. She just asked if an officer in that unit was in the bank.

Don looked at Mary who left the office. She was back a moment later to say that Miss Jefferson was in her office. Emily nodded firmly, asked directions to Miss Jefferson's office and then marched out. Mary asked if she should call April and warn her. Don smiled and shook his head saying, "Darling, six hours wouldn't be enough time to warn her about Emily Amelia Hardwick, and two minutes would only alarm her. Let's just keep our fingers crossed."

April was working at her desk when her secretary buzzed and said there was a Miss Hardwick to see her. She didn't have an appointment, but Mr. Martin had suggested she talk to April. She was ushered in and April came around her desk to greet her. In spite of her protests she had been promoted to vice president and her office had been enlarged. She shook hands firmly with Miss Hardwick and offered her a seat on the new sofa that was part of her new vice-presidential office.

Emily studied the young woman sitting attentively in front of her. She was surprised. First, the girl was a Negro; then she remembered they were now called blacks. Donald had said that she was a vice president. A black female vice president! she thought. My, how things are changing. But that wasn't all. The girl was sitting upright in her chair with her hands folded in her lap. It has been years since I last saw that! I wonder who raised her? Clearly, her mother trained her to be a lady. And even though she's only wearing blue jeans and a work shirt, she sits in that chair like a queen.

She asked the girl about the small merchants and was told quickly and lucidly about the lending program and on whom it was focused and how it worked. Emily nodded her head quickly. Then she asked, "Are you in charge of the program, Miss Jefferson? You appear ... rather young."

The girl smiled brilliantly and said, "Oh, no, Miss Hardwick. The program is run by our division head, Miss Martin. She's a very experienced banker."

Emily asked, "Do you mean that ninny, Cynthia Martin? If that's true, then why are you dressed the way you are? If she saw you, she would fire you on the spot. That girl doesn't care two hoots for people. She just plays to images and impressions. Well?" she demanded.

April replied, "I didn't know Cindy ... Miss Martin ... before I joined the bank. She says she was awful and should have been drowned at birth. I can't say. I can only say she hired me, trained me, taught me everything I know, and promoted me. As for the uniform," she said with a warm smile, "it's the uniform for our division, by the way — it's all she ever wears. When she's wearing clothes at all, which isn't often."

Suddenly, Emily saw the girl's naturally warm brown eyes grow cold. She said, "I would give my life for Cindy Martin. I adore the girl. I worship the ground she walks on. Am I making my feelings clear?"

Emily made a mental note to see Cynthia Martin again. Clearly she inspired enormous loyalty, and the old Cynthia could never have done that. Then she asked, "Tell me about yourself, Miss Jefferson. Do you live with your parents?"

"I live with my mother and my son, Miss Hardwick. Why do you ask?" The coldness was out of her eyes now.

Emily mentally nodded, realizing what a beautiful young woman this was. She had an idea which she put into action immediately. She said, "Miss Jefferson, I would like you to have lunch with me. I'm sure you have no idea who I am or why there might be any circumstance by which you would care to dine with me. That's neither here nor there.

"If I could presume to use your office for a moment, would you please call Mr. Martin? Then, when he tells you to join me, please see if your mother and your son could join us for luncheon, too." She gave April the address and the girl left the office to use another phone. Emily called her apartment and told the cook there would be four for luncheon at twelve.

April called Don Martin's office and Mary answered. The woman said, "Congratulations, April! I'm glad to hear you're still alive. What did you think of Emily Amelia Hardwick?"

April exhaled loudly and asked who she was. Mary filled her in quickly, ending with the admonition that she was the bank's single most important customer. "April, the rule in the bank is, 'What Emily wants, Emily gets.' I'm sure there is a reason for the question, though. What is it?"

April told her about the luncheon invitation and Mary whistled softly. She said to do it if it was humanly possible, adding that Don Martin was the only person from the bank to dine with her in living memory. After hanging up she called the apartment and quickly told her mother about the invitation. Her mother said she would get Ronnie dressed and would meet them at twelve.

She went back to her office and made quick excuses to Emily, then took a hanger from behind her door and went to the ladies' room. When she returned a few minutes later, she was the picture of a female banker on a warm September day. She was wearing a simple, beautifully-tailored dress that set off her face and showed off her beautiful figure. Emily looked at her and thought to herself, Better and better!

When they returned to her apartment, Emily asked that dry sherry be served. She chatted with the young woman and was increasingly impressed. The girl was very well informed, very smart, very beautiful and very ladylike. Emily found herself liking her more every minute.

The butler announced Mrs. Thomas Jefferson and Ronald Jackson, Junior. Emily rose to greet Mary Jefferson and again was impressed. Clearly, this is the woman who trained April, she thought. The little boy was handsome. Although April had said he was not yet two, he was already walking. Moreover, it appeared that training pants had already taken the place of diapers. Mrs. Jefferson whispered to Ronnie to say hello.

Ronnie toddled over to where she was sitting and put out his hand. Emily took his tiny hand and carefully shook it. The little boy stood there in front of her, studying her face carefully. Emily could feel the sinking feeling in her stomach again. Normally she terrified small children. This little boy just stood studying her face carefully.

Then he pointed to her and turned to his mother saying, "Lady!" Then he turned back and smiled the warmest smile she had ever seen on a child's face. He said, "Nice lady!" He came closer and held out his arms.

Emily picked him up and found him wrapping his little arms around her neck and giving her a big kiss. When she put him down again, he backed up a little and said softly, "Nice lady." He wanted to sit down and she lifted him onto her lap, where he gently fingered the beads she was wearing. Then he just leaned back against her arm to listen to the grownups.

Emily looked at the other women. They might have been nervous about Ronnie's behavior but they didn't show it if they were. Emily asked about Mr. Jefferson. Mary said, "He died defending our country, Miss Hardwick. He left me with April who has been a wonderful daughter to me. I still miss him terribly, though," she finished simply.

April explained the circumstances surrounding her pregnancy and Ronnie's birth. She spared herself nothing as she told of the contest and serving punch from her tits. As she did, Emily noticed, she didn't lower her head nor turn away from her gaze.

Emily knew about her own reputation. She knew that she was famous for her piercing gray eyes that could see through steel. In fact, she cultivated both the look and the reaction. She was increasingly impressed with this family. When luncheon was announced, they went into the dining room and were seated. In spite of his diminutive size, little Ronnie sat in a booster seat at the table. He waited for the others and ate as neatly as a small child possibly could. Emily watched for a few moments, then picked him up and sat him on her lap. She helped him with the rest of his meal.

When they were nearly finished, she turned to Mary who was sitting at her right and asked, "Mary Jefferson, I am very impressed. 'Manners' is a term that's nearly extinct. Nonetheless, you display an elegance and a breeding I haven't seen in fifty years. What did you do?"

Mary Jefferson sat up even straighter in her chair, or tried to. Her backbone was already ramrod straight. She said, "Miss Hardwick, I began working when I was eight years old. My mother served a family in Virginia ... a very old family. They were members of the First Families of Virginia — the FFV — on both sides. We were never told how to behave. I just watched. I saw what ladies and gentlemen did and how they behaved. I've tried to raise my daughter the same way. I tried to get her to understand what the term, lady, really means."

She looked at Emily straight in the eye. Emily realized Mary's brown eyes were every bit as piercing as her gray ones were. "I believe I have succeeded. I'm very proud of April, and I think my husband, Tom, is very proud of her, too." Suddenly, Mary's face started to crumble. She murmured her excuses and fled from the table. Emily gave Ronnie back to April and went after her.

She found Mary in the living room trying desperately to muffle her tears with a dainty little handkerchief. Emily went to the powder room, grabbed a hand towel and returned to the living room. Pulling up a chair, she sat down next to the woman and said softly, "Mary, that tiny thing is useless at a time like this."

She gave her the towel and drew her into her arms. It was as if a dam had broken. Mary's body was wracked with sobs while Emily comforted her. Finally, she regained control and looked up at her with tear-reddened eyes. Then Emily realized how truly beautiful this woman was.

Mary said softly, "I'm terribly sorry. I apologize. I'll leave at once! My behavior is inexcusable." She tried to smile as she added, "Ronnie makes his grandmother so proud of his behavior, and then she comes apart like ... like ... I don't know what."

"Like a widow who is missing her husband at a very important moment for the family. It hits you like a knife blade, doesn't it? It cuts into you utterly without warning," Emily said very softly.

Mary looked up in surprise. "But ... but how did you know? It is 'Miss', isn't it?"

"Yes, it is, and my virginity is still intact. His name was Mike ... Mike Casey. I met him during the war. He was a Navy pilot and I loved him so very much. He ... He asked me to marry him. He had his whole leave ahead of him. He had just completed advanced pilot training and was going out to the Pacific to join his carrier. But I wanted a big church wedding and a white gown and the full array, so I said we should wait. He was killed in action."

Suddenly, Emily's face crumpled and she began to cry. She began to sob and tears began to pour from her eyes. Now it was Mary's turn. She held the older woman close. April came running from the dining room. Still holding Emily, she told April to get the butler.

The man came in and carried Miss Emily to her bedroom and laid her on her bed, still weeping uncontrollably. Mary shooed April away and undressed the woman, slipping her under the covers nude. She was amazed at the beauty of the elderly woman's figure. She stripped off her own clothes and got into bed with her. She took her in her arms and just held her close. Finally, sheer exhaustion caught up with her and Emily fell asleep in Mary's arms.

It was nearly six o'clock when she awakened. Emily was shocked. She was undressed in bed and in the arms of another woman. She looked at Mary Jefferson and remembered. Then she took her fingers and gently stroked the lovely body beside her. Mary's eyes opened quickly. She smiled at Emily and suddenly looked startled. She jumped out of bed like she had been stuck with a pin and started to look around for her clothes.

Emily said softly, "Mary Jefferson, get your lovely black ass back in this bed this second. You'll catch your death!"

Mary got back in the bed but remained as far from Emily as she could. Emily grinned and moved close to her to hold her in her arms again. She whispered, "That does it! Mary Jefferson, I have a proposition to make to you. You have a small apartment. I have a very large one. It's too large, really. I want you, April and Ronnie to come and live with me." She pretended to glare and said, "And if you call me Miss Hardwick one more time, I'll kill you! The name is Emily."

With that she slipped out of bed and went to a jewelry box. Opening it, she took out a tray revealing a cavity below. She scooped up the contents, brought them back to the bed and turned on a light. Then she gathered up armfuls of pillows and with a grin threw them at Mary's head.

Her eyes were full of love as she said, "Mary, I haven't done this in nearly fifty years. I was in college. I would get a letter and my roommate would climb into bed with me while I read it to her. May I? Please?" Mary looked and again was startled by Emily's figure. Remarkably, it was almost girlish, with skin that was still as smooth as satin. She climbed into bed and Mary came close.

She carefully unfolded the first letter and began to read. There were a series of letters from a young man going to war. He described daily activities and told her what it was like to serve aboard an aircraft carrier — in Mike's case, the Enterprise. In each letter he recalled caressing Emily's full breasts and telling her that he couldn't wait to take her to his marriage bed. Each letter had an intimate detail of their very short time together.

She came to the last one. Mike told her that a major battle was in prospect. "The brass say it's one we have to win." They were gathering near a small island he was sure she had never heard of if he told her its name nor would she ever hear of it again. "Darling," he said, "if anything happens to me, I'll wait for you, dear Emily. I'll wait for you forever. You are the love of my life." It was signed, "With all my love, forever. Mike."

"He was wrong about one thing, Mary," Emily said softly with her voice breaking. "The island was Midway. I was named as the next of kin in his will." She took out three small boxes. "This is what the Navy gave me. The boxes contained the Navy Cross, the Air Medal, and the Purple Heart. She looked at Mary and said, "Please help me, Mary. Will you?"

"Help you? By living with you?" Mary asked, puzzled. "How can that help you?"