Chapter 6: From Ecstasy to Anguish

January 2006

Phillip, two months shy of age five, was enrolled in kindergarten. Brian rode in the backseat with him, giving him instructions as how to interact with other kids as Peggy drove the SUV. "Don't try to kiss any girls the first day," Brian advised.

"BRIAN," Peggy shouted from the driver's seat.

"Wait until the second day," Brian said.

"BRIAN," Peggy shouted again. "Do you want to get him kicked out on his second day?" she asked, blushing.

"On second thought, it may be better if you wait until you're my age to kiss the girls," Brian said.

"Now you're confusing him," Peggy scolded him.

She stayed in the car while Brian delivered Phillip to his classroom.

"Did he cry when you left him?" she asked when he got in the car.

"No, I think he was glad to be rid of me."

"I don't blame him," she said, smiling fondly.

When Mr. Bennett failed to show up for dinner, and he didn't answer his phone, Peggy called Mrs. Nixon, his bookkeeper.

"I was going to call you, Mrs. Driver. George was taken to the hospital this afternoon."

Brian and Peggy rushed to the hospital, but were not permitted to visit their friend. They were told that only family members could see him.

"We're as close to a family as he has," Peggy complained.

The following evening, they were able to see him for two minutes. Mr. Bennett was hooked up to all sorts of equipment. "Go see Mr. Weston," George Bennett was able to whisper before they were whisk from the room.

Peggy phoned Brian at work the next day, telling the administrative assistant that it was an emergency.

"Mr. Weston will see us at two," she said when Brian came to the phone.

"What's this about?" he asked, showing irritation that a meeting had been interrupted.

"He wouldn't tell me."

"I'll pick you up at one-thirty," he said, thinking that he could work through lunch and leave the office at one.

They were five minutes late getting to the lawyer's office.

"George Bennett wants you to take over his business interests," Mr. Weston said as soon as they were seated.

He handed them a document and told them he would expect their decision to accept or reject Mr. Bennett's offer by the end of the week.

Brian went back to work, dismissing Mr. Bennett's offer. They were not equipped to manage his affairs. By the time he got home, Peggy had had time to digest what was in the document.

"I think we should do it," she said.

"Have you lost your ... are you serious?"

"Listen to this. He's willing to forgive our debt to him if we accept his deal. I spoke to Mrs. Nixon. Fifteen of the sixteen apartments are leased. She says that income will cover our monthly payments to the daughter. The hardware store is profitable, but the café is barely making ends meet. We get his house, as is, the same as this house was when the Browns died suddenly. We made out all right with the antiques, didn't we? Do you have any idea what those glass pieces are worth? The house next door is rented to the town librarian and her friend. Mrs. Nixon says they're contended and not going anywhere. Did you hear me say that he'll forgive our debt? We'll be in clover."

"What about operating funds? Is he leaving us his bank accounts?"

"The cash on hand is minimal. Mrs. Nixon said he cleaned out his accounts and sent everything to his daughter. He must have had a feeling that his health was failing."

Something didn't sound right to Brian. Why had the old man selected them to operate his businesses? Why didn't he put them up for sale? Brian thought he knew the answer; it was Peggy. Mr. Bennett had confidence in her abilities.

"You really want to do this, don't you?"

"It's a great opportunity for us to expand, Honey."

"Will I need to quit my job and help out?" he asked. In the back of his mind he was thinking that this could be a way out of a job that was not to his liking. It was no longer fun. A new incident took place every day that required a stern hand, something contrary to his personality.

"John will take over some of my duties here. He's very competent and ready for increased responsibility."

Brian tried a different tact. "His house is in poor condition. How much could we realize if we cleaned it up and sold it?"

"It's stipulated in the agreement that we can't sell any of the real estate until we've paid a substantial part of the debt. We can sell the antiques, though. I can't even guess how much they are worth. We'll need to do some fix-up work, and rent it."

"Peggy, we've been together since January of 2000. Do you realize that we've never taken a vacation? Do you realize we don't have any friends outside business acquaintances? All we do is work. The kids talk about their friends going to Disney World. If we do this, we'll never be able to take them."

"We'll go in March. I promise."

Brian was skeptical. "Can I tell them we'll celebrate their birthdays at Disney?"

"Yes, Sweetheart, you can tell them."

Brian was thoughtful. He would need to make arrangements to take time off from work. He decided to wait a few days before telling the kids about the family vacation. "I want to visit some orange groves. We may make a deal to have citrus fruit shipped directly here."

"Now, who has his nose to the grindstone? Is this turning into a working vacation?" Peggy teased.

"We have a few days before we have to give the lawyer our decision. I want to study the document."

"There is one more wrinkle. It's stipulated that we must retain Mrs. Nixon and Lois Banks," Peggy said, watching him for a reaction to this news.

"That doesn't bother me. They've always had Mr. Bennett's best interests at heart. We should tour the apartment building and that relic where the restaurant and hardware store are located."

Peggy picked up the phone, spoke to Mrs. Nixon, and said, "Done, we'll tour the buildings tomorrow."

That night in bed, Peggy was even more receptive to his overtures than usual. She told him how happy he made her, and how excited his touches made her feel.

"It's always like that first time you put your hand on my ass when you were helping me out of the boxcar."

"I didn't touch your ass," he said for what he knew to be the fiftieth time.

"Yes, you did, but I must correct something you said earlier tonight. We have not been 'together' since January 2000. We didn't have our first date until Valentine's Day, and you claim our second date was Amanda's second birthday. Our third date was when we had pizza and beer, and our fourth date was March the twenty-fifth. That's the night we had sex together for the first time. So, my dear, we haven't been 'together' since January 2000."

"Technically, you're correct, but I distinctly remember you saying that you knew we were going to have sex when your ass rubbed against mine in your dad's truck. That was January."

"Technically, I knew we were going to have sex the first time I saw you. It was only when I felt the size of your cock that I got cold feet."

"You're teasing me again."

"Hmmm, I love teasing you."

Brian called his office to say he would be arriving late the next morning. Mrs. Nixon took them to the apartment building, showed them the apartment that was empty, and two others where tenants permitted them inside. She explained that the building was thirty years old, and required more maintenance than a newer building would require. She quoted the average length of time tenants stayed, and some of the more costly expenses.

Brian was dubious, but Peggy was excited about the prospects of owning the apartment building. "We'll spruce up the landscaping, and buy a new sign. We'll ask Mr. Bennett if he would object to our naming it 'Driver Apartments."

Mrs. Nixon didn't express her opinion about re-naming the complex. She suggested that they tour the hardware store next. Brian had been inside the store numerous times, but he was seeing it with a fresh set of eyes. There were water stains in the ceiling tile, and a collection of dust on some of the stock. The clerks looked lackadaisical, answering his questions in monotones.

They climbed the rickety stairs to the second story, which turned out to be cluttered with seasonal items, and a collection of goods from bygone years that had not sold.

"This place is filthy. I wonder if they know what's up here," Brian exclaimed.

"We'll clear the junk out, install hardwood floors, and rent it as a loft," Peggy said, unable to hide her excitement.

"I don't know if the town would allow people to live here. Anyway, the insurance company might take exception to the space above a restaurant being occupied. There's always the possibility of a kitchen fire, you know," Mrs. Nixon warned.

Peggy was unfazed. "John and Judy are looking for a place to move. I know it would appeal to them if we do a good job."

Brian was considering the costs of bathroom plumbing, kitchen appliances, and repairing the roof, but he didn't want to dampen Peggy's spirits.

They had been to the café several times, but the tour with Mrs. Nixon was a new experience. Neither Brian nor Peggy knew what was involved in operating a café. They peeked in the kitchen, and counted the seating.

Outside, Peggy looked up at the second floor windows without seeing how filthy they were. "We'll touch up the façade, and name it, 'The Driver Building.'"

The librarian was not at home, and her partner would not permit Mrs. Nixon to take the new owners through the house. Brian asked if the house was comfortable, and the mousy woman answered that they were quite comfortable.

Peggy would have liked to tour Mr. Bennett's house, but the tour was interrupted my Mrs. Nixon's cell phone ringing. She answered, and the blood drained from her face. "George is ... I must call his daughter," she said, fainting into Brian's arms.

The librarian's partner must have been watching from her window. "Bring her inside," she offered, and Peggy helped Brian support the bookkeeper until they were in the librarian's small living room.

Peggy ran to the bathroom and came back with a damp washcloth. She revived Mrs. Nixon, who confirmed that Mr. Bennett had died thirty minutes before.

Brian volunteered to make the call to Mr. Bennett's daughter. Mrs. Nixon produced a piece of paper with the daughter's name, Georgia Fanning, and her telephone number.

Brian and Peggy exchanged a look as he dialed the number. As she told him later, "I knew you didn't have the slightest idea what you were going to say. I could tell what was going through your mind."

"What was going through my mind," Brian asked, watching her forehead wrinkle as her lips formed the words.

"You were thinking, 'what the fuck!' Why is this happening to me again? The Brown's kids didn't give a shit about their parents until it was time to split the estate, and now this chick in New Jersey is chopping at the bit, anxious to find out how much she's going to get. Wait until she finds out we'll have twenty years to pay her off."

"You know me pretty well. That's exactly what I was thinking. She sounded kind of elated to hear that George had died. I'm glad I had that talk with Amanda.'

"I'm glad you talked to her, too, Honey. Do you have to go to work today?"

"I've got to tell Robert that I'll be out for the rest of the week," he said, and Peggy nodded her understanding.