Chapter 2

It took me over a week to convince Dad that I needed an assistant. Somehow it offended his sense of what was right and proper. I was still over a month away from having my seventeenth birthday, for one thing. Way too young to have any need for an assistant. Dad already knew that it was Shirley I had in mind to assist me, and he worried that I'd forget about business, and only concentrate on having fun with her. I assured him that my mind would be firmly fixed on business.

"Kenny, because you're one of the owners, it isn't a problem that you aren't on the payroll. That same rule exception doesn't apply for Shirley. If we put her to work, she'll need to be paid."

"I can probably force her to accept a pay check. I'm sure she'll resist at first, but if I explain she can only charge expenses if she's on the payroll, I'm sure she'll eventually come around." Dad made a pained face, not appreciating my attempted humor.

"Two hundred a week, and she isn't authorized any expenses."

"I'm still going to be able to use my account, right? I can tell you right now that Shirley is going to be one of my main expenses."

Dad threw up his hands at the whole preposterous idea of me needing or wanting an assistant, before getting up and going back into the library to make himself another drink, then retiring to his study. Mama had watched and listened to the entire exchange, never indicating by either words or facial expression, her opinion.

"Nicely done, Kenny. I think he was prepared to give in to you anyway, but, after you assured him you wouldn't allow yourself to be distracted, he became curious to see if you'd really be able to manage it."

I phoned Shirley, after finishing my little cautionary talk from Mama, offering her the job as my assistant intern. She immediately accepted, telling me that it would be her pleasure to work under me. I hoped I hadn't made a mistake in hiring her. I'd meant what I said to Dad, and I was serious about accomplishing a lot over the summer break. Shirley was anxious to start; finding out that she'd be paid too, was just so much added icing on the cake for her.

I spent two days in the beginning of June getting acquainted with Uncle Bunny's friend, the lawyer he'd bequeathed his law practice to. His name was Frank Clooney, and he had gone to the same law school as Uncle Bunny. He was around forty years old, and he specialized in trusts and estate planning. The two associates that Uncle Bunny had hired after his second heart attack, were being kept on, along with the entire accounting and secretarial staff.

According to Frank, Uncle Bunny had set up several trust accounts that were going to be used to assist some of his clients. These were mainly elderly people, widows or widowers with fewer assets than required to pay for their maintenance and support. Many of his clients were in assisted living situations, and the inflation of the seventies had decimated their too small fixed incomes. Rather than have them moved to a less expensive living environment, Uncle Bunny had routinely just made up the shortfall out of his own pocket.

I wasn't sure why Frank was insisting on giving me an accounting of all Uncle Bunny's practice and commitments. He certainly didn't owe me any explanations. When he got around to opening up the file on the Coulter family, I finally understood. He was intending to step in where Uncle Bunny had been forced to step out. He went over all of Uncle Bunny's instructions with me, making sure that I wanted to continue with all the plans that Uncle Bunny had set into motion. There were several lesser accounts that had been set up by Uncle Bunny to fund various projects. The expenditures thus far lodged against the Coulter account was already greater than sixty-four thousand dollars, including a twenty-five thousand dollar donation to the Catholic Church's Artifact Restoration Fund. When I asked about what that was for, Frank laughed, telling me that this was the grease that Uncle Bunny had used to be sure that Aunt Clara's release from her vows slid along without a hitch.

"Did Uncle Bunny explain about who the Coulters are, Frank?"

"Sure, Bunny kept meticulous records. Everything he did has file notations and comprehensive written explanations. Before he died he put a friend of ours on retainer, to take care of any business law questions, and he had other people selected, people who should be able to handle any specialized problems that might come up. My skills are more in protecting and managing assets, and keeping track of account details. If you need something, you just have to let me know. If I can't take care of it myself, I'll get someone who is able to handle it for you. For the most part, as far as your legal needs are concerned, you can rely on me to represent you and secure the best advice available."

"Uncle Bunny just listened to what I wanted, and then he thought of the best way to do it. I never had to worry, because it was always taken care of."

"I hope I can replace at least some significant portion of what Bunny accomplished for you, Kenny. I want you to feel comfortable calling me whenever you have something you wish to discuss. I owed Bunny a lot. He helped save my bacon once, during a time I might have lost my ticket to practice law. Leaving me his practice like he did, that was wholly unexpected."

"This money Uncle Bunny left in the trust accounts, is it enough to do some other things with it? I have some money in trusts too, but I'm not sure how I can access it."

"Tell me what you want to do, Kenny, I'll look into it, and I'll get back to you with a list of possible options."

I had been thinking a lot about what Uncle Bunny had done for me. I didn't think I could do anything as great as what he'd done for me, but I knew I could try to do something. I was young, but I wanted to get started, slowly at first, then, after I knew what I was doing, increase things until I could make a significant impact.

"I want to help people adopt kids from the orphanage where I was raised. The ones that are ten years old or older."

"Don't they already have an adoption program? I'd be very surprised if they didn't have a good program already in place."

"Yes, but it only works for the younger kids. Nobody wants any of the older kids. I thought it would be good if we could do something to make it easier for people to adopt these kids, make it more attractive for them."

"I see. Are you planning to offer some type of incentive?"

"I thought we could find people who want to adopt, but have been turned down for some reason. We could step in and try to help them. We'd only help them with an adoption if they agree to take one of the older kids that we have picked out for them. Maybe giving them free legal help, or helping them with the adoption expenses. Some people are too old to adopt, but they don't want to just be foster parents. I remember one couple they turned down because their apartment wasn't nice enough. Another time, the man had some kind of criminal thing that he hadn't disclosed. I think it was because he stole a car when he was seventeen, or something like that. They went to the people's house and took the kid away from them. The boy they took back to St. Cecelia's really liked those people too. The last time I visited there, he was still at the orphanage."

"I'm not sure it would be wise for us to try to circumvent the adoption eligibility criteria. Perhaps, if age were the sole disqualifying point."

"Frank, my own parents wouldn't have normally qualified to adopt me. Uncle Bunny fixed it for them. There's a lot of people who really want to adopt, but they aren't allowed to. I know you think it's better to wait for some perfect family to come along and adopt these kids, but that isn't what happens. Most of the kids I have in mind for doing this with, they wouldn't care about who was adopting them. Unless you've lived at an orphanage, you don't understand that almost any place else would be better. They do the best they can, but it isn't enough. All the kids feel like rejects. Go over to St. Cecelia's and ask Mother Superior to give you the big tour. Remember, they're going to be trying to make it seem as good as they can. Look at where the boys sleep, check out the clothes they're wearing, and then, go take a look at the food they're eating. It wouldn't take very much for any home to be better. The main difference wouldn't be in the food, clothes, or living conditions. It would be having somebody come pick them, to choose them to come be a part of their family."

"I'll go check on it in the next day or two. Will they let me in just like that?"

"Tell them you work for Mr. Parsons. Mother Superior wants to keep on our family's good side. She'll give you the red carpet treatment. If not, I'll get Dad to call her. She'll let you in. If you see any of the bigger boys, try to speak with them. Ask them how they'd like to be adopted."

I drove away from Uncle Bunny's office. Well, it was Frank's office now. I was still unconvinced about whether we could work together. I'd wait and see what he did with my plan for getting those boys adopted. He didn't have Uncle Bunny's easy way of handling things, that much was obvious. Uncle Bunny had always known what to do. You didn't have to fill in all the details for him. If Uncle Bunny had been there, I would have just told him to help get some of the older kids adopted, and he would have gotten back to me later, with his own really good plan, one that was already being implemented. I was missing Uncle Bunny. He'd made everything so easy for me.

Bea had left the day after she arrived for Uncle Bunny's ceremony. She spent that one night at our house, and then said she had to go visit her family. Two weeks later, Gerta asked Mama if Bea could come back and use her old room for a few weeks, just until she decided what to do next. Bea had told Gerta and Hans that things hadn't worked out so good in California. She had met someone, and they had started living together, but something happened and they had split up. Bea didn't talk to Gerta much about this other person, but she and Hans thought it might have been another girl. Mama gave permission for Bea to stay with us, but she made it clear that Bea was going to be considered Hans and Gerta's guest.

Mama and Bea got into a big fight the third day she was back staying with us. Bea had been sitting in the living room, talking on the telephone for about an hour. Mama asked her to wind her call up because she wanted to make some calls herself. Bea told her she only needed a few more minutes, and Mama yelled at her to 'hang up the phone, now'! By the time Dad and I got home, the tension had spread all over the house. Hans and Gerta were kind of caught in the middle. They both wanted to help Bea. I liked her too, but I thought she should have gotten off the phone as soon as Mama asked her to. Mama wouldn't have asked her without having a good reason for it. As a guest, Bea should have been more considerate.

Bea had decided she didn't want to stay with us anymore, and she was in her old room, packing up her things.

"Hey, Sport! Come to throw me a going away bop? God knows I could really use one. I need to go make some money, and get back to someplace where I can fend for myself. Country living isn't my thing."

"Why did you do that, Bea? You know how Mama is."

"I was talking to somebody. She could have waited if she wanted to. She could have gone into Tommy's study, and used his business line. What's the big deal? She just wanted to come down on me. She's the queen bee, and she wants to make sure all us peons know it."

"We haven't really had a chance to talk, Bea. You seem a little sad. Did something bad happen out in California?"