by Alan Cook
Chapter 27
"I'm going back to work next week."
Arrow and I looked at each other, but the news
was not unexpected. My father looked better
each day. His color had returned and he had
started walking with Jacie, although more
slowly and not as far as before.
I had asked to join them during Arrow's daily
briefing because...to be honest, because I was
afraid to speak to my father alone. I couldn't
remember that I had ever convinced him of
anything by myself or changed his mind on
an issue.
Arrow was the buffer between him and me. I could
speak more freely with her there, even though she
might not agree with me--probably wouldn't agree
with me.
She had the floor first and talked about various
corporate issues. Among other things, she gave
the latest official figures for Tartan's holdings of
Dionysus stock. It was obvious that James was
still acquiring the stock in the open market, but
not in blocks large enough to cause the price to
jump. The stock had gone up in the last week,
but whether any of that gain was due to
increased activity on Tartan's part we didn't know
since Arrow's figures were weeks old.
Arrow saved the best for last. She pulled a piece
of paper out of an envelope, with a flourish, and
said, "Richard, I thought you'd like to see this
with your own eyes. It's Elma's signed proxy,
giving you the right to vote all of her shares at
the meeting." She handed the paper to him.
My father smiled the broadest smile I had seen
from him since his stroke, reached over and
gave Arrow, who was sitting beside him on
the couch, a big hug. It's a good thing Jacie
wasn't in the room.
It was my turn to speak. I felt as if my team
had just gotten the ball for the first time,
behind by a score of 40 to nothing. My idea
was to discuss the advantages of selling the
company to James from an "objective" point of
view. I even had notes; in fact, I had put
together a written outline.
If I could convince my father of this course of
action, then of course I wouldn't have to
convince Elma, especially since he had her proxy.
But I could tell from my first words that the
momentum was against me. My father had won
and he wasn't going to listen to an opposing
point of view.
He interrupted me before I had made a single
point and said, "I don't know why all of a
sudden you're taking James' side on this,
especially after what you and Arrow found out
in London. But let me tell you right here and
now that James is the last person I'd sell out
to. I'd rather sell to Microsoft, and you know
how I feel about Bill Gates."
I tried again, stumbling along, fighting against
reality, and attempting to make my arguments
sound plausible.
This time Arrow interrupted me. She said, "Karl,
maybe you're just trying to play devil's advocate,
but this is a strange time to do it. The decision has
been made to fight James. Elma has given Richard
her proxy. In fact, the fight is over because James
can't buy enough stock in the open market to ever
have more than a minority interest. The best he
can hope for is perhaps one seat on the Board of
Directors. If he will be satisfied with that, fine. If
not, he'll probably sell the stock at some point."
When the meeting concluded I walked Arrow out
to her car, hoping to mend fences. I said, trying
to speak lightly, "It might not be so bad, working
for James. He thinks very highly of you."
"Ha! About as high as any woman is going to get
with James is receptionist, and only because
most of the people he deals with are men. He
needs someone with short skirts and nice legs
to distract them until he can get in their pants."
How did she know about the receptionist? "I guess
Elma is firmly in Richard's camp now."
"You saw the proxy form."
"You've done your job, it appears."
"Karl, you're acting very strange today," Arrow
said, with a puzzled look on her face. "Maybe
you need a vacation."
# # # #
"Tell me again why you asked me out to
dinner--not that I'm complaining."
Elma sat across from me with her green eyes
smiling. She wore a dress that matched her eyes
and complimented her red hair. Her freckles on an
almost unlined face and youthful figure completed
the picture of a woman who couldn't possibly have
three grown children.
"I'm not satisfied that everything possible is being
done in the investigation of Ned's death," I said,
making it up as I went along. "I was just hoping
that in talking to you I could pick up some clue
that maybe...perhaps I could pass along to the
police."
"I'll help you and the police all I can; you know
that. But I've told about everything I know
that I thought might be of use-which is
practically nothing. However, I really
appreciate the opportunity to eat a genuine
steak for a change. Since I've been cooking
just for Sarah and me I've made mostly salads
and vegetarian stuff. And she eats practically
nothing. I'm worried about her--I've been
reading up on anorexia."
Elma chewed a bite of meat slowly, swallowed it
and added, "It certainly helps the ambiance to
have a handsome young man seated across the
table from me."
"Thank you. Er, did Ned have any friends in San
Francisco--other than James?" I asked, trying
to sound offhand.
"None that I know of. Why do you ask?" "No Asian friends, then?"
"No. Why do you ask?"
Even if the police had told Elma about the gun
Ned had, they wouldn't know where it had come
from. I couldn't very well say to Elma, "Did Ned
have a female friend who he knew well enough
to leave a gun with?"
Whoever this mysterious woman was, nobody but
Pat Wong's uncle would even admit to knowing her,
and even he wouldn't give her name. I was at a
dead-end on that alley.
A live piano player tinkled the tune "Born Free"
in the background. Although I had brought
Elma here, intending to try to convince her to
revoke her proxy to my father, somehow, the
more wine I drank the less important that
seemed.
I picked up my wine glass and said, "I would like
to make a toast to a beautiful woman with a
ton of courage."
With a impish grin, Elma said, "I'm afraid I don't
know the lass you be toasting, but I'll drink to
anyone with those attributes." And she drank
from her own glass.
At least I could tell James I had tried. "James, I
took her out to dinner, but she beguiled me the
same way she beguiled you 30 years ago. Since
you know what I mean I'm sure you will understand."
"I understand, Karl. I understand that you're a
worthless shit. Stan, give your men the signal."
Bang. Bang. All's well that ends well.
# # # #
When I escorted Elma to her door she invited me
in. I had enjoyed being with her and savored the
prospect of a few more minutes. We had conversed
easily on many topics, something Esther and I didn't
do, and she didn't talk business, like Arrow. In fact,
I had been so entranced conversing with her about
non-business subjects I had never found a way to
bring up her proxy.
"Sarah's on a sleep-over at a friend's house," Elma
said as she ushered me in. "Tomorrow is a school
holiday for some reason or other-perhaps it's
national political correctness day. Why don't you
sit in the big chair and I'll make us some tea."
She indicated the chair I had seen her sitting in
before. I protested mildly, but she playfully
shoved me into it. Since I was feeling no pain
I went easily. I was glad I had driven the few
miles back to her house very slowly and
reflected that I could use the additional time
and tea to sober up for the drive home.
Elma was back in five minutes with a tray, a
teapot, cups, saucers, etc. She set them down
on the table in front of me and said, "It's a big
chair. Do you mind if I share it with you?"
I was in no shape to protest, but even if I had
wanted to she sat down before I could open my
mouth. There was just room for the two of us as
long as we nestled together and I kept my left
arm behind her on the back of the chair.
I sipped my tea, using my right hand while Elma
used her left. Her right arm was half on my leg.
We sipped in silence for a few minutes. My heart
beat like that of a teenage boy the first time he
is in close proximity to a girl.
After a while I twisted my head so I could see
Elma's face. I had to pull my head a few inches
away from her to prevent her from being a blur
to my farsighted eyes. There were tears running
down her cheeks.
She saw me looking at her and said, "I'm sorry. I
didn't mean to do this. It's just...I miss him, Karl.
I miss the feel of him; do you know what I mean?
He was such a physical person."
I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. Elma turned
her body toward me and buried her face in my neck.
I felt the wetness of her tears and I faintly smelled
a delicious perfume that I realized even then I
would always associate with her.
I put my left hand on her shoulder and patted her
right arm awkwardly with my right hand. It was a
scene I wouldn't mind lasting for a long time. We
became still and I almost drifted off to sleep.
Then Elma lifted her face to mine. I started kissing
away her tears, my lips roaming over her eyes and
cheeks and lips. Our kisses grew more passionate
and my right hand discovered a gap in the top of
her dress. It fit easily inside. Her skin was surprisingly
soft and smooth. I found out she was as excited as
I was.
"Come to the bedroom," she whispered, starting to
get up.
"Are you sure?" I asked. We shouldn't be doing this.
"Very sure," she said. She stood and with a firm grip
on my arm, pulled me toward the bedroom.
Aces and Knaves copyright ©2002 Alan L. Cook
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