Chapter 11

The next morning, Mama awoke, feeling better, but still weak. She stayed in bed, but received visitors all day. Gerta was usually hovering nearby, always with some small treat in her hand, either a liquid, or something more substantial, trying to get Mama to replace the weight she had lost from her latest bout with depression.

When I was in with Mama, I could see that something was troubling her. It had to be something concerning me, because of the way she'd stare at me. She looked like she wanted to tell me something. Whatever it was, she was having difficulty bringing it up.

"Is something wrong, Mama?" I saw her face flush. "Is it something I did wrong?"

"Last night, I woke up, and saw you looking at me, Kenny. I wasn't awake long, but later, I felt you touching me inappropriately. I hope this isn't your regular practice when I'm indisposed with my melancholia?"

"I didn't touch you last night. Not after you were sleeping. I've never done that, and I never would, Mama. Why did you think it was me?"

"I saw you, Kenny. You were standing right where you are now. I was only awake for a few seconds, but I opened my eyes and I saw you. A short while later, I felt your hand under my nightie. I rolled over, but you persisted, until I spoke up, telling you to stop."

"That wasn't me, Mama. I wouldn't do anything like that. Did you ask Dad if he did that? He was sleeping right next to you when I looked in on you last night." Mama looked surprised.

"Your father was in here last night? Sleeping?"

"He was when I saw him. After he made you a drink and brought it up here to you. Gerta was in here getting you to drink the first one, and then Dad came up with another, after Gerta told me to have Hans make it for you."

"He made a drink and brought it up to me?"

"Yes, I asked him to make it, because I didn't want to bother Hans, with his bad back. I asked Dad to make it, and when I told him I'd bring it up here, he told me he would take it to you. When I came in at around eleven, there were three empty highball glasses, and you and Dad were sleeping on your bed."

"Your father was in here, with me? You're sure of this?"

"He's been in here with you a lot this time Mama, you can ask Gerta. It must have been him doing that touching. I know it wasn't me. Maybe he was asleep too? Don't people do that sometimes, in their sleep?"

"Excuse me, Kenny. I'm still a little confused. I remember seeing you last night, but I don't remember seeing your father. I do remember hearing your voice and Gerta's too, but never his. I find it unnerving that your father was so close, and I was completely unaware of his presence."

"Are you going to be okay now?"

"I'll be fine by tomorrow. I don't feel up to dressing for dinner or anything, but I'm fine. Did Bunny mention how the meeting with Franto Construction went?"

"I haven't seen him since before you got ill. I know he got the notes you made, because Hans said he drove them over to him. Dad must know. I know he spoke to Uncle Bunny on the phone, about the marijuana."

"Excuse me, did you say marijuana?"

"It was this idea I got from Elizabeth."

"Oh no, Kenny, she didn't try to get you to smoke that with her, did she?"

"No, and I wouldn't anyway. We were talking about her depression, and she said she preferred to treat it without the mood elevators her doctors prescribed. She said she smokes marijuana, because it's natural, and it keeps her from crying."

"I'll have a word with Gerta. Elizabeth will have to leave our employ. I won't tolerate drug use in my home, or having people who use drugs, working for me."

"She says there's something in it that relaxes people, so they can sleep. She says being relaxed helps depression. She said she can cook with it, so you wouldn't have to smoke any to get the benefits. Uncle Bunny said it probably wouldn't hurt to try it. Gerta said Uncle Bunny tried it, lots of times, when he was younger, and he doesn't get depressions." Mama laughed, weakly.

"Yes, I remember he did that. He didn't have depression before he smoked it either."

"I though it might help, and nobody is even trying anything else to help stop the depressions."

"You're sweet to think of me, but, I don't plan to poison my own body with smoking or eating Marijuana. It might be more dangerous than my present condition. Suppose I got addicted to it? Drug addiction is insidious, Kenny."

"It doesn't matter then. Dad said we couldn't try it, not without you agreeing to do it."

"Did Elizabeth present any medical support for her opinions?"

"She didn't ask me if she could do it, it was my idea. I asked her, because I saw she was laughing and feeling better. It was later that she told me she was thinking about her dead husband, and was depressed because she's afraid she's forgetting him. She said the marijuana helps her not to be so sad, and keeps her from having permanent crying jags. It isn't her fault that I was thinking about how it might help you, and I hope you don't get Gerta to fire her."

"Marijuana is illegal, Kenny. I would be irresponsible if I allowed drugs being on my property. If they found out I did it knowingly, I'd be an accessory."

"Maybe it wasn't a good idea, but it was my fault, not Elizabeth's. She doesn't deserve to be fired."

"I'll have Gerta speak with her, tell her we won't tolerate drug use on my property."

We left it at that. It was Saturday, and Jane, Grace, and I were playing golf at eleven. When I went downstairs, Dad was in his study again, working on something or other. I was disappointed that he'd gotten out of Mama's bed without her knowing he'd stayed there with her. I knocked on his door.

"I just visited with Mama. She says she's feeling okay, just a little bit weak. She isn't depressed now."

"Excellent. Gerta assured me that her weakness will disappear with the intake of food and liquids. I'm happy that she's over the worst of it."

"She didn't know you slept with her last night. In fact, she accused me of touching her when she was asleep, so I told her you were sleeping on her bed when I looked in on her last night." Dad's face got red, and he started to say something several times, but couldn't find the words he wanted.

"I'll speak with your mother, and clear up this misunderstanding with her."

"Jane and Grace are in with her now, so you might want to wait before you do that. Are you planning on reading business things in here all day?"

"There is a lot of information to sort through. I postponed my trip to Omaha, because I wanted to be here for your mother, but I need to get prepared for Monday's trip."

"Can't you take it up to her room and read it there? The girls and I are going to play golf, and I'm sure Mama would appreciate the company. Maybe you can read some of it out loud to her, and see if she thinks the same way you do. You know how much she likes it when you talk about doing something that makes her money."

"I don't want to tire her out, and sometimes, these reports and statements can be pretty dry and dull reading."

"You know Dad, Mama doesn't think this stuff is dull. I think it excites her when you talk about that stuff. As long as you remember to keep putting in the parts where she's going to make lots of new money. You would think, or, at least, I would, that with all the money she has, a few more million wouldn't mean that much to her." Dad laughed, and this time, it sounded like he really meant it.

"Kenny, you have so much to learn about money. From our conversations, and the other reports I've been receiving, there isn't anything I can teach you about social skills. I do know about money though, and about the power it has over people. I include myself in this as well. With rich people, acquiring money is a sport, as well as a passion. It doesn't matter how much you might have, there is always excitement at the prospect of getting more.

"Your mother understands yields, returns, interest, and investment appreciation. She understands, and enjoys seeing her money grow. What she doesn't understand, is how to take nothing, or a group of things holding very little value, and transform it into something, something holding greatly enhanced value. To her, it's like magic. Take this Lucas Company we've acquired. Two months ago, they went out and ordered, prepaid, forty eight new delivery trucks, costing a total of nine hundred thousand dollars. The trucks have yet to be delivered. Because of redundant delivery routes, we're in a position to combine and streamline our deliveries, making these trucks no longer necessary. Yesterday, I arranged with the fleet sales department, for a cancellation of that order and a full refund of the payment. The nine hundred thousand is sitting in our operating account, making it less likely that Bunny or your mother will need to increase their exposure by having to provide operating capital for the new business. Even though it was only a fortuitous circumstance, presenting us with an opportunity to convert one asset into another, to your mother, it will seem like magic. It changed our new company's net worth not at all, and yet, by freeing up that money, it enhanced the purchase, bringing it closer to her ideal investment."

"What's her ideal investment?"

"Right now, it's to acquire seventy million dollars worth of assets for forty million dollars, without touching one penny of her own personal capital. If I can find another four million dollars of non-producing assets to convert into operating cash, her ideal will have been achieved."

"How likely is it that you can?" Dad looked at me, a smug smile on his face.

"There's a warehouse in Lincoln, with 20,000 square feet of storage capability. We have two other distribution centers in Lincoln. Together, these two have more than enough spare capacity to free up the Lucas warehouse. I put it on the market this morning, for five point two million. Our real estate people tell me we can expect several quick offers at asking price, or quite near it. This asset was purchased three years ago, for six million dollars by Ron Lucas. In addition to the cash freed up, we'll be able to take a write off on our eight hundred thousand dollar loss with the sale. After making a ballpark appraisal of all of the remaining assets, I still believe the company will be worth seventy million, without the trucks, and minus that warehouse."

"So, you get the company without spending any of your own money?"

"So it would appear. There is still the personal liability for the forty million, but I plan on converting all corporate debt from the four companies into a single revolving credit line. One which won't require any personal guarantees from any of us. In six months, your mother and Bunny will each have their forty six million back, and own thirty per cent of a company worth a net one hundred eighty million. The company will be worth three hundred million, with one hundred twenty million dollars of exposure on a one hundred fifty million dollar revolving credit line."

"You better make sure Mama's bedroom door is locked when you explain to her how you're going to do this. Especially that part about her getting her forty six million back in six months." I was half kidding, but Dad looked at me and nodded his agreement. In a minute, he was gathering up a bunch of the papers spread out on his desk. Soon, I could see he was ready for me to leave. When I went out of his study, he came out too, with a big stack of papers. I watched as he walked up the stairs, towards their bedroom.

Grace, Jane, and I played golf. We went up to the practice range first, warming ourselves up with a regular bucket of practice balls, equally divided among the three of us. The only excitement during the round was when Grace just missed a seven foot eagle putt on the front. Jane won, with a seventy, followed by Grace, with a seventy four, and me, with an eighty two. At the turn, we had stopped in at the snack bar, buying hotdogs and drinks, so, after we finished our round, we decided to skip having lunch at the restaurant. Instead, we changed into our swim suits and headed over to the pool for a swim.

Carol was home from college, and I introduced her to Jane and Grace. This time, it was Carol and Grace making eyes at each other, and Jane's turn to make catty and sarcastic comments. I flirted with Carol, giving her a massage, while rubbing in her tanning lotion. I made up several stories about Bea, trying to prevent Carol from causing any real problems with the girls. In one of these stories, I told Carol that Bea had told me to keep an eye out for her, since she was planning on making a visit, sometime in the summer. While I was busy neutralizing Carol, Grace and Jane were having a spirited discussion of their own. I was afraid they might get too loud in the pool area, so I told them we needed to leave. The walk over to Jane's car by the three of us was punctuated by heated accusations, and angry counter charges. That night, Grace came downstairs to sleep in Bea's old room, and, on Sunday, Jane moved back home to her father's trailer in Bolling, claiming she needed some time alone, to think.

Mama was very upset, with me. Somehow, she blamed me for introducing Carol to Grace in the first place. As for Grace, she wasn't adverse at all to receiving Mama's sympathy. Mama remembered Jane's earlier display, back when she had first met Brenda. Mama insisted that Grace move back into my old room, telling her that Bea's room wasn't good enough.

On Monday, Jane called me from the job site, using the phone in the contractor's trailer. She spent ten minutes asking me questions about how Grace was doing, alternating between accusations and fear and remorse, for the things she had said to Grace. When I told her that Grace had gone to work normally with my father, Jane practically accused my dad and me of having affairs with Grace. I told her we weren't, and that she was being silly to even think that. She ended up giving me a message for Grace: apologize for what she had said, or forget about her, forever. I was glad I wasn't caught up in any of it.

That night, after dinner, I was up in my room, trying to decide if I wanted to return Brenda's earlier call or not. We had talked for half an hour before dinner, but all Brenda was talking about was how unfair it was that her parents weren't taking her out shopping for some new summer clothes. It almost sounded to me like she was hoping that I'd suggest taking her myself, or else I'd ask my mother to take her shopping again. I finally decided to call her back, hoping she was done with hinting around about needing new summer clothes.

It turned out that she was done. She had somehow talked Emily into taking her shopping over in Bolling the next day. She spent a few minutes telling me that at least one of her friends cared about how she looked. She asked me if I wanted to help her pay for a new bathing suit, telling me that she wanted to get something real nice, just for me, but wouldn't feel right asking Emily or her mother to pay for it. I told her I'd give her forty dollars, which was most of the spare cash I had now. I hadn't made any money playing golf with my parents or Uncle Bunny since Grace and Jane came to stay with us, and I hadn't had a chance to talk to Uncle Bunny about the trust account he'd set up for me, from the money my parents had given me. Brenda said she'd come by in the morning to pick up the forty dollars. She said it to me in a way that made me think she had been hoping for a lot more money from me. After we got off the phone, I found myself a little angry with her.

It was around ten o'clock when Grace knocked on my door. I yelled for whoever it was to come in, and was surprised to see it was her. I'd already told her about Jane's call, and the message she'd given me for her. When I told Grace what Jane's message was, she just looked at me, then yelled, "Fuck!", before turning away, and going up to her room. She hadn't come down for dinner, and when Mama sent me up to knock on her door, to tell her it was dinner time, she'd just yelled at me to go away.

"Kenny, can I talk to you?"

"Sure. Come in, sit down." I patted my mattress, indicating for her to sit on the bed too. She came over and sat on the bottom edge of my bed, about three feet from me.

"What am I going to do now?" She looked like she had been crying. From the tone of her question, I didn't think she really expected me to tell her. It didn't really sound like she was looking for my advice.

"Did you call her?"

"I can't. There's no way I'm apologizing to her, not when she's being such a little bitch." She sounded convincingly angry. If she called Jane, starting out with that tone, nothing good would come of their conversation.

"What did you say to her that she wants you to apologize for?"