Chapter 5

Act 5

Tuesday, July 20^th, 8:45am

"Good morning, Warren. You're back safe and sound. How was the Keeneland Concours?"

"Excellent, Valentine, excellent. We won a couple of special awards, but more importantly, we learned just what it's going to take to win the larger prizes. We certainly turned heads with our two vehicles, though."

"So ... it was worthwhile ... in your opinion?"

"Very much so. I spent as much time reviewing the other entrants as I did answering questions about our entries. You should know that you and Mr. Coultard were absolutely correct when you said that original and unrestored was a unique category. We attracted an enormous amount of attention for both cars. It was very exciting ... very invigorating."

I could hear the enthusiasm and happiness in his voice.

"I'm really glad you enjoyed it so much. Dad got home last night and according to Mom, he couldn't stop talking about how anxious he was to get back to work on the Auburn. That show gave him a real shot in the arm, as if he needed one."

"I'm surprised your father doesn't have a bad back. He spent so much time bent over looking in the engine compartments of the show cars that I hardly saw him upright. I think the two of us are reliving some youthful dream and we don't want it to end. I can't wait for Pebble Beach next month. That will really be exciting."

"Yes ... it will. Doreen and I are planning on joining you for at least one day. I also want to stop in at Laguna Seca and watch some of the historic races."

"I may join you if time permits. But right now, your father and I have some work to do when the cars get back here to improve them for the Fairfield showing in Sacramento. We've decided not to take the Mercedes to Pebble Beach, just the Bugatti. We should have both cars in top show condition for the Sacramento show then."

"That sounds sensible. Do I need to do anything to help?"

"No ... we've got everything in hand. I'll have Ms. Gordon make the changes with the transporter and insurance."

"Fine. Well, welcome home. We'll see you later this week."

"Yes ... indeed. I'll have quite a few pictures to show you and Ms. Gordon. Perhaps we should find a place to put them up at the shop so that both the employees and our customers can see them."

"Good idea. I've about run out of room on my office wall. I think a big board out in the restoration shop would give us a place. I'll get going on that right away."

When we had signed off, I leaned back in my chair and had a nice sigh of satisfaction. Our first show had been a success, and Warren and Dad were immersed deeply in our project. No interference, just support. I was really enjoying this new phase of my business.

I'd barely had time to sip my coffee when the phone rang again.

"Better Than New, Val speaking."

"Is this Mr. Keating, the son of David Keating?"

"Yes ... that's right. Can I help you?"

"I hope so. My name is Philip Melanathon. I met your father at Keeneland. He tells me you are beginning the restoration of an Auburn Boattail. I was wondering if you might be interested in another Auburn?"

"Possibly. What is it and where is it?"

"It's a 1933 Saloon Eight Sedan. It's not anywhere as exotic as the Boattail, but this car has sentimental value to me ... to my family."

"Where is it located?"

"It's stored on our farm in Valdosta, Georgia. It hasn't been driven in fifty years, I suppose. Needless to say, it would be a major project."

"Yes, it would, Mr. Melanathon. It would be an expensive major project to be more accurate. The best I can offer at this point is to have one of our people evaluate it and give you a ballpark estimate. It will depend on just how detailed and accurate you want this restoration to be."

"I understand. When I talked to your father, he suggested that since it wasn't destined to be a show car, there were some ways to keep the cost from becoming excessive. We ... my family ... want the car to be driveable. Something we can take out for a family outing. It's something special I want to do for my mother and father."

"I see. Can you send me some pictures of the car? It will give us some idea of what needs to be done. Then I can consult with my partners. To be honest, sir, it's unlikely that the cost would be less than one hundred thousand dollars."

"Yes. I expected that. My main concern is that the job be done right and that it would be safe to drive. It must seem like a silly luxury to you, but we can afford it and it's something I want to do while there's still time."

"Very well. Send me the pictures. If we think we can do a good job, I'll probably ask my father to fly down to see it in person. That's the only way we can make a good evaluation. At that point, the meter would be running," I chuckled.

"I understand. Thank you for considering it. I've had a difficult time trying to find qualified people for this project. Taking it all the way across the country seems excessive, but I've seen the work you've done on other cars on your website, so I'm hoping that this might be my chance."

"I'll look forward to seeing the pictures. If you can, send them to me, Valentine Keating, at the email address on our website. That will save both of us some time."

"Thank you, Mr. Keating. I'll look forward to hearing from you."

That was surprise. From Georgia to California for a restoration by a company that hadn't finished its first project? I had better talk to my father.

I walked into his new office after tapping on the door frame.

"Dad, do you remember talking to a man from Georgia about restoring a '33 Auburn sedan?"

"Yeah ... he had a funny last name. Mel-something. Wasn't looking for a concours car. It was an old family car that his parents owned. He wanted to fix it up for their 75^th wedding anniversary. Can you imagine? Married for seventy-five years? Guess they were married young ... teenagers I think he said. They're both in pretty good health, considering. I think he said their anniversary was next April."

"He's sending me some pictures and if you think it's worthwhile, I'd ask you to go have a look at it before we commit to it. This is going to be a cost-plus job."

"Yeah. I figured that. But I think he's good for it. I understand he some big-deal farmer around Valdosta. There were sure lots of folks coming up and saying hello to him."

"Okay, then. I'll wait for the pictures," I smiled. Dad was right into this business now. It was like he was given a new lease on life and he was loving it.

"How's the Auburn look?"

"It looks like lots of work, but ... so far ... so good. This internet thing is great for finding stuff. I got ahold of the Auburn Club and they've been givin' me all kinds of leads. Not like the old days, that's for sure. I've got your mother looking after the mail."

"Good for you. This is becoming a total family business again."

"Say ... I had an idea that you might or might not like. I was thinkin' maybe that the regular autobody work could be done in a separate building while the restorations could be combined in one building. That way, only the paint shop is shared. What do you think? It's not too late to make the change. Just a matter of moving the machinery into where the autobody used to be."

"Let me think about it. We seem to flying by the seat of our pants lately. We're making changes on the go, and that can lead to problems. Why don't the four of us sit down and discuss it. In fact, I think it might be smart to have Carolyn in on this meeting."

"Sure. I guess I can get carried away ... huh?" he smiled.

"It's okay, Dad. I know you're thinking about the business, so no idea is a bad idea. We just need to make sure we do what's necessary to make it all work."

"Gotcha," he nodded, returning to his computer screen.

I never thought I'd see the day when my father embraced the electronic age, but he was now thoroughly hooked on the internet. Considering his opinion of the new cars and their systems, it was nothing short of amazing.

Monday, July 26^th, 11:30am

"Is Monica Engblom in?"

"Just a moment, sir. I'll see if she's available."

I didn't recognize the young woman who had greeted me at the front of the furniture store. No surprise, since Warren had sold the store to a national chain and much of the staff had been let go. Monica was apparently an exception.

"She'll be right with you, sir," the girl said with a smile. True to her word, I saw Monica walking toward the front almost right away.

"Val? To what do I owe the honor?" she said, also showing a smile.

"I've brought you the check for your share of the business. There are a couple of papers to sign as well. If it isn't convenient now, we can do it later."

"It's almost lunch hour. Why don't we meet at 'Digger's' and have a quiet lunch while we get this business out of the way?"

I hesitated. I didn't really want to spend any time with Monica, but her tone was a good deal more conciliatory than at our last meeting. I gave in.

"All right. Noon hour at Digger's, okay?"

"I'll meet you there."

There was no point in my going back to the shop, so I headed for Digger Dave's Saloon. I found my nerves were a bit jangled, so I ordered a beer while I waited in a booth for my ex-wife to show up. Amazing how she could still cause me this kind of discomfort a year-and-a-half later.

"I see you got an early start," Monica said as she slid into the booth. I didn't detect any snide attitude as she might have shown in the past. This appeared to be a different Monica.

"You know me, Monica. I'm not much of a drinker."

"No ... you've always been very good that way. I never did have to worry about you."

I surprised myself with my next question. "How have you been? You're still at the store in spite of new owners. Isn't that a good sign?"

"Yes, I guess it is. I've always been one of their top producers, so I'm sure that has something to do with them keeping me."

"Maybe now you'll get some recognition in the pay check. Trip was always finding ways to cut back on commissions." I realized immediately that it was a cheap shot, but it came out just the same.

"Yes. I'm going to do quite a bit better with the new owners. I guess you know Trip and I are no longer together?"

I nodded.

"That makes me a two time loser. First, I throw you away, then he throws me away. What goes around, comes around, as the saying goes."

I didn't have any idea of how to respond to that comment.

"Don't worry, Val. I'm not trying to get you back. I'm more realistic than that. I know I burned that bridge. I'm just sorry I figured it out too late. There's a rumor going around that you've got a new lady. Any truth to that?"

"Yeah. Doreen Gordon and I are engaged. She used to be the office manager at your store."

"Yes ... I know who you mean, although I'm surprised. Hell, I'm amazed. She was the original Ice Queen. I think most of us were taking it for granted that she was a lesbian. I guess we were wrong, huh?"

"Dead wrong!" I grinned.

"I guess I shouldn't be surprised. You are a good guy. Too bad I figured that out a bit too late. Lucky her," she said, raising her glass.

I lifted my glass in response. I found I was more relaxed now since Monica had decided to be more civil.

We ate lunch quietly, with little talk, and afterwards got on with the paperwork.

"The agreement reads that this is the end of the claim on 'Better Than New' and that you are paid in full. If you want, you can have your lawyer look it over. It needs your signature on all three copies. The certified check is attached, as is a copy of the assessment the check amount is based on. I hope that will do it," I said.

"Yes. That's what we agreed on. I trust you, so I'm not going to worry about having a lawyer go over it. I'm sorry it came to this, Val. If I had it to do all over again ... well ... I don't, do I?"

"Where are you living now?"

"I have a condo over on Camino Santa Marta. It's perfect for my needs. I'm still driving the Escalade. No boyfriends, but I'm not pushing it. After Trip, I'm not in any rush."

"You know he's moved to San Francisco? Got a job with a brokerage firm, I'm told."

"Could be. I don't have any contact with him. He was a big mistake. A fully grown adult with a teenage mind. I got sucked in by the so-called glamour, but there wasn't anything else. Shows you how stupid I can be."

"I got the feeling you've learned something from this."

"Yeah ... you bet! I've learned to hold onto what I've got, because the grass isn't always greener on the other side of the fence. In fact, there may not even be any grass at all."

"You'll recover. You're a good-looking woman. You'll find someone."

"I suppose so. But it's getting a little late to start a family, and I'm going to have to get lucky to find the right guy. I had one of those and gave him away. That's a mistake I can't afford to make again."

She was sounding more than a little sorry for herself. I had twinges of regret and sympathy for her, but that's all they were ... twinges.

We parted with one of those pretend hugs and headed back to our work. I was both relieved and a bit sad. It was as if today was the last day of our marriage, not a year ago. We no longer had anything connecting us. Luckily for me, I had quite a lot to look forward to.

Friday, August 13^th, 10:00pm

"I'm glad you're not superstitious, driving your lovely Jaguar all the way down here on the freeways and this scary little road to Big Sur."

"Nope ... not a superstitious bone in my body. On the other hand, I do have a super bone for your body."

"Ohhh ... I'm impressed. The sea air making you frisky, is it?"

"I think it's more like the gorgeous woman I'm in bed with. I swear, you get more beautiful every day."

"Uhhhmmm ... must be all the exercise and loving I'm getting."

"I hope so. I plan to keep it up."

"Well, it's certainly up right now."

We were staying in a lovely cliff-side B & B with an ocean view out our bedroom window. It was a clear, moonlit night with little if any wind. We could hear a light surf lapping at the beach below, with an occasional seagull's cry. It was perfect.

Doreen lazily draped her leg over my torso before pushing herself up and stretching her lovely frame over mine. I had my hands on her butt cheeks, and my lover was reaching for my hardened erection to guide it into her. Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion and I couldn't think of a more perfect way to end a day.

Saturday, August 14^th, 6:30am

We fell asleep with her still lying on top of me, but awoke with me spooned into her back and my typical morning woodie tucked between the cheeks of her lovely backside. A glance at the clock radio told me it was only six-thirty, but the sun was rising and the sky free of cloud. Better still, there was no fog.