Quabbin - 18. Chapter 18

The fight for the Mill just dragged on. The rest of Thursday, I listened to Carrie on the phone, for maybe an hour-and-a-half over a dozen different calls, but it got tough. After work, she wanted to go out for dinner, I’m sure to rag on, but I couldn’t face it. I lied my way clear, then slipped out of supper with Dad by picking up Carol and going to see Ann, Mike, and the boys in Hartford. I felt guilty about not asking Dad along, or even telling him where I was going, but not so guilty I wouldn’t have done it again. The visit was great, since I was still catching up on playing with my nephews. But more than anything, I had to be away from the Mill.

The three of us talked for a while about the Kohlers, losing poor Mike who’d barely met any of them. It was the first time my sisters and I had been together since Kohler’s funeral, and there were things we just wanted to say. I didn’t tell them what was going on at work because it would’ve confused things, though our old stories brought up Mom and Maddie. If anyone on our block had died, talking about them would’ve brought up family. There were just so many of us, and we had so many collected friends. We went over a lot in a couple of hours, more than I would’ve thought, ‘cause it was all so interrupted. Ann would start something, then I’d add in, then Carol. After putting the boys to bed, Mike finally escaped to his computer.

Driving back, Carol was still talking about “growing up,” which made it sound like fifty years ago. Or maybe it seemed that far ‘cause I’d had so much more to tell them from my trip. I’d told them some, but there was lots more. Carol didn’t miss “the old days.” She’d been out of the house since sophomore year and was more excited about moving to Boston in August. But growing up was something we’d all done together and knew we didn’t want to forget.

I dropped her in Northampton. She was staying with friends for the summer, renting a room rather than living with Dad and me. I didn’t blame her. I’d stay with Dad as long as I was in Amherst, and not just for the money. I did love the guy. He was my father.

After I dropped off Carol, I really wanted to see Kevin, and he was so close -- if only his almost-ex would leave. His hanging on was probably good for everyone, though it didn’t stop me from imagining Kevin in ways I could no longer remember Dane. That wasn’t so good, but there was nothing I could do about it. At least, not yet. But I had plans. Meanwhile, that’s why there was guitar practice.

Dad was up when I came in, a huge surprise since it was almost one AM. “You OK?” I asked.

He nodded, but didn’t want to talk. I need your help, I wanted to say. I don’t know what to do, but I’m afraid if I ask, you’ll tell me wrong. Or worse -- I’m afraid you’ll say, “James, that’s something you have to figure yourself.”

“’Night,” I told him instead. “Sleep well.” It’s what Mom always said, and Dad turned to look at me.

Then Friday came and, the way it played out, I’m sure everyone wished it hadn’t. We were up. We were down. All was lost. The Marines had arrived. They got wiped out, but that was OK ‘cause the Navy was right behind -- till they drowned. We were in Sudden Death from the moment I dragged into the office to the second we all danced out, and, by that time, everyone was exhausted.

It started with a call from Carrie. “You there?” she asked.

“Yep,” I said, though I was still driving and wasn’t awake.

“I mean, at work.”

“I can almost see the parking lot.”

“Then come up to Dad’s office as soon as you can.”

That was gonna go over well with Cameron. “Morning, Cam -- Gotta go.” Though after I quickly explained, he let me.

“What am I gonna do?” he said, laughing. “Nix the boss?”

The question was, How long were any of the Kohlers gonna be boss?

“If we wanted to move out of the office,” Carrie soon asked me, “how long would it take?”

It seemed like they were on the run, and, suddenly, I was The Boy Mover. But that’s what I got for loading trucks, ‘round the world.

“If we started now,” I told them, “with a couple of maintenance guys, we could pack this room by noon.”

Carrie looked at her mother, who was sitting at Drew’s desk. Bob looked ready to start. “There’s my office, too,” Eileen said. “Though it’s smaller.”

“And we want Great-grampa’s desk,” Bob added.

Oh, sure, take away Bill Grenon’s throne. Still, something big had happened since I’d last talked with Carrie.

“We decided last night,” she told me, “that we could all walk away. We know Dad wouldn’t have wanted that. But he also wouldn’t want us wrecking our lives. He loved the Mill, but he loved us more.”

“Could you really just go?” I asked.

“We’re almost sure,” Bob admitted, when neither Eileen nor Carrie offered to speak. “And the more we realize how screwed up things can get, the more we want out.”

“Especially if we can’t keep any kind of control,” Carrie finished.

It all seemed to rest on that. And that jiggled on only a tiny share of the stock -- the five percent Drew’s brother Eric held. Everyone knew that, without that stock, no one could break the other Kohlers.

Drew’s parents were holding tight with Eileen, and they were putting enough pressure on their daughter Sandy to hold on. But Eric was a Boston contractor, who knew exactly how much of that city he could buy with this bonus. It slammed any family feeling.

“He always was practical,” Carrie said. “He wanted Grampa to sell the Mill twenty years ago, instead of risking it with Dad.”

“He’s not jealous?” I asked.

“This is business, Jim,” Eileen insisted. “Eric knows that none of us will end up poor. But he’s worried that, if we somehow mess things up, a large piece of his investments will disappear.”

So while two national corporations wrangled for Eric’s five-percent, and Grenon’s group stood by frustrated, without enough cash, Eileen was negotiating with an even larger company for the best price for the Mill -- if she had to sell.

“We really don’t want to,” Carrie insisted. “Bob and I will give up our plans, at least for a couple of years -- maybe five -- to try and make things work. But only if we have a chance. If we’re just being manipulated by someone else’s CEO…”

“Then it’s not worth it,” Bob continued.

“Absolutely,” said Eileen.

“OK then,” I said. “If you need to pack, you know how long it will take. I’ll have Cameron and a couple of guys waiting, and you distract Grenon.”

“Oh, he’s OK now,” Carrie said, laughing. “He’s on our side.”

“Once the big guys got involved,” Bob joked, “Bill’s little investors ran like hell. They sold whatever they could -- not exactly losing money.”

“Then you have someone to run the Mill,” I pointed out.

“But not to do Dad’s job,” Carrie said. “Bill can only do what he’s always done, plus a little extra. He can’t lead.”

“Still, I’m surprised you forgave him. That was fast.”

“He was a stupid man, panicking,” Eileen said. “You can’t blame him for what he always was. He attracted attention that probably would have come anyway. I wish we hadn’t had to face it this week, but what can you do?”

I’m really sorry, I wanted to say. But it was nothing for me to apologize for.

When I reported all this back to Cameron, he asked, “Are we on High Alert?”

“Yes, sir.” I gave a sharp salute.

“Relax. You’ll be promoted,” he joked. “If only for big league ass kissing.” That cracked us both up, though the break only lasted for two minutes. Then Carrie was on the phone again.

“Forget everything,” she told me. “We found an investor who’ll buy Uncle Eric’s stock, but will stay loyal to us.”

“Mark win the lottery?” I kidded.

“God… Mark,” Carrie sighed. “I haven’t spoken to him for days.”

“Well, congratulations!” I said. “About the investor.”

“Yeah!”

But as fast as word got around the Mill, the investor vanished. “Turned out the silent partner didn’t want to be so silent,” Cameron reported, getting that from Denny’s secretary Gina.

“Well, how could they expect loyalty?” I asked. “When Drew’s own brother was selling them out?”

“Eileen Kohler could marry again,” Cameron suggested.

“It’s a little soon.”

“Worked in Hamlet,” he cracked.

Cameron surprised me. Though once he got past Romeo and Juliet, I’ll bet he couldn’t name another Shakespeare play.

“Everyone died in Hamlet,” I pointed out.

“Not the security guards,” he said.

It’s always nice, being safe at the bottom of things. Even if you’re stuck loading trucks.

“We’re on again,” Carrie said on the phone, near eleven. So while Cameron went for boxes, I sped upstairs. Where I waited. Eileen was on the phone. Carrie was on the phone. Bob was on the phone. But I couldn’t tell if they were all listening on one line or making several different calls.

“What a day!” Mary Foti confided to me. She was standing near the door.

As it turned out, Cameron and I soon went back downstairs. Though we left the pallet of folded boxes in Mary’s office, “Just in case.”

“Did you find work gloves?” I asked as Cameron reached his desk.

“Next false alarm,” he said, grinning.

Which came in twenty minutes. But this time it was good news -- for a while. Gina said that Mary Foti said that Julia Finnerty had said that Drew’s brother positively wouldn’t sell his five percent if Eileen gave him half of the ten percent that had been in Drew’s name. “That way he’d own as much as Eileen, Carrie, or Bob,” Cameron explained, “and they’d still have five-percent to share.”

“They’ll never go for that,” I bet Cameron.

“How much?”

“Loser asks Kevin when his ex is leaving.”

Cameron smiled at me, sadly. “You gotta start dating, kid.”

But I won, and Cameron soon was on the phone, boldly getting an answer neither of us wanted to hear. “Kevin wouldn’t say,” he reported.

“Does he even know what’s going on with them?” I asked.

“He wouldn’t say that, either.”

Then, for about fifteen minutes, the Mill was owned by the corporation that owned Macy’s and Bloomingdales. The rumor was “that they wanted something popular to fight Sears and Land’s End.” But it was only another rumor, and Cameron didn’t even bother getting out of his chair.

“This isn’t going to happen,” he predicted. “Five years from now, we’ll still be going moment-by-moment through this heart attack.”

“Five years from now, I’d better not be here,” I said.

“Where you going?”

“I don’t know. Maybe I’ll open a chop shop with Kevin’s ex.”

Cameron thought that was very funny and said he’d buy stock. After we’d both managed to break for separate quick lunches without any interruption from the gods, I asked Cameron, “What’s the worst thing that could happen?” I’m sure I’d asked him that before, but couldn’t remember his answer. In any case, he had the copy machine open and was calmly wiping what I thought was the lens.

“Worse thing about what?” he asked.

“The Mill.”

“Oh, I thought you meant Kevin.”

“So you are thinking about him?”

“Well… yeah,” he said, grinning. He had toner on his chin and looked like the devil.

“Seriously?” If Cameron really was interested, that would kill any chance of my seeing Kevin.

“Aren’t you?” he asked back.

“That’s not an answer.”

“Why do I have to answer before you?”

He had a point, and I wasn’t sure what I lost by being honest. “I’m not thinking about him seriously,” I admitted. “You kinda shot that when you said neither of us had a chance. And that was before his ex turned up.”

“Maybe I was wrong.” Cameron said this shrugging, then unconsciously wiped his chin, making the smear worse. I handed him a paper towel, but -- not knowing what it was for -- he used it on the lens.

“So one of us has a chance,” I tried again.

“Maybe... Possibly… Who ever knows?”

“Oh, hell -- forget about that. What about the Mill? What’s the worst thing that could happen there?”

Before he could answer, the phone rang. It wasn’t any of the Kohlers or even any of the secretaries. It was my dad.

“Are you coming home for dinner?” he asked.

I was astonished. Since I’d come back to Massachusetts, it was the first time he’d called me at work. “Why?” I had to know.

“I didn’t want to waste meat.”

A breakthrough -- of sorts. Maybe a little practical, but... “I’ll try and be home,” I promised. “But it’s a weird day.”

“All right.” Then he hung up, without saying anything else.

“Something wrong?” Cameron asked. And now it was my turn to say, “Who knows?”

Then Gina called and warned that something big was about to happen. But she couldn’t talk. So I braced myself, and Cameron washed off his chin, and we waited. When the phone rang, ten minutes later, we both jumped for it. But it was a delivery truck at the back gate. I went for the keys.

“Nah!” Cameron exclaimed. “I need to get out of here. I feel about ten years older.”

I think everyone in the Mill did. Soon, we’d all be putting in for retirement. Still, with Cameron out of the office, I phoned Kevin. We hadn’t talked since Tuesday.

“I was wondering when you’d call,” he said, sounding happy to hear from me. But my answer couldn’t be, I was wondering when your ex would leave. Instead, I mentioned work.

“That’s all anyone can talk about,” he admitted. “It’s so nice getting home at night.”

Yeah, well, there was something else I didn’t want to think about. “How are you?” I tried.

“Fine… busy. You should come over and meet Steve.”

That’d be fun. I’d bring Cameron. Then he, Steve, and I could just line up, like The Three Stooges. “Look,” I lied. “I’ve got another call. I’ll talk with you soon.”

“Come by Saturday,” he insisted. “Steve’s leaving Monday.”

Damn! I’d cut the conversation off just where I’d wanted to start -- had been trying to start all week. “Yep,” was all I got in, as Kevin hung up. When Cameron came back, I wondered whether to tell him about Steve or even admit who I’d been talking to.

“Gina call?” he asked, indicating the phone.

“No.”

“Hell.”

The next time the phone rang, it was Eileen, for Cameron. “I guess,” he said. “The parking lot,” he said. “Or the grassy area, near the picnic tables.” He listened for a another moment, then told her, “I think so -- I’ll check.” After hanging up, he asked me, “Do we still have that megaphone thing? You know, battery-operated?”

I got it out of the storage closet, and Cameron loaded in fresh batteries. After he tested it, blowing out my left ear, he pocketed another set of batteries, then herded me through the door. “Where were going?” I asked.

“They’re gonna shoot us,” he joked. And soon everyone in the Mill was out by the river.

We sat where we could, on tables, benches, or the ground. Eileen took the megaphone from Cameron, made sure she knew how to use it, then waited for any stragglers. With her were Carrie, Bob, Bill, Denny, and their secretaries. Kevin came over to me. “Hey,” he said, and I think he would have chucked my chin if there hadn’t been a hundred-and-fifty people around.

Bob and Denny helped Eileen onto a picnic table, and once she made sure it was solid, she started speaking.

“First, I want to thank everyone for everything they’ve said or written to me about Drew in the past couple of days. It’s been a hard for everyone, I know. But you’ve somehow made it easier.”

A couple of people started to applaud, then realized that was just wrong and nervously laughed. Eileen simply smiled.

“Next,” she went on, “I wish I could apologize for the uncertainty this week.” The megaphone kind of fed back as she got her mouth too close, and she suddenly pulled it away. “Can everyone hear me without this?” she asked. “There aren’t that many people.”

When people shouted that they could hear her fine, Eileen handed the megaphone to Carrie.

“I can’t change this week,” she continued, “any more than I can bring back Drew. Though that, certainly, would be my choice. But I can give you some answers you’ve been waiting for. The main one is we’re not going to sell the Mill.”

There were cheers for that, a lot of them, but also a lot of talking, and Eileen had to wait for it to quiet.

“I know you’re wondering how we’re going to do that,” she said. “And to a point, so are we.” There was a small laugh from the crowd, and Eileen waited for it to pass. “But we’ve always had a good staff here, and no one’s going to leave.” She took a moment to point, specifically, to Bill and Denny, who both shyly grinned -- unnatural for Denny and just weird for Bill. “Also,” Eileen went on, “my daughter Carrie, my son Bob, and I know we can’t fill in, immediately, for everything my husband was doing. But with all your help, we will, eventually.”

This time there was solid applause, which made Eileen, Carrie, and Bob smile.

“Now, you deserve to know some of the details,” Eileen continued. “I know that everyone’s heard a piece of something this week, and there were times that even I didn’t completely understand what was going on. But I can assure you that the Kohler family has a majority of the stock, and that none of it is going to be sold. On top of that,” she said, slightly louder, to cut off any applause, “we have the assurance from some of our largest investors, that their stock will always align with ours. That gives us almost three-quarters of our available stock. No one is going to take us over.”

There were shouts and long applause for that, but afterwards, no more details from Eileen. She simply waved to everyone, answered a handful of unimportant questions, then let herself be helped down from the picnic table. Since it was almost four o’clock, on a Friday, word quickly spread that everyone but the phone line people could go home.”

“I’ll do rounds,” I told Cameron.

“I’ll split ‘em with you,” he said. “Let’s both get out of here.” But, before I could start, Carrie hugged me.

“I don’t know what I’m getting into,” she said, smiling. “But it is exciting.”

“How did it all work out?” I asked. She immediately said, “I can’t tell you,” then as quickly relented.

“Well, I can tell you,” she whispered. “But if it ever gets back to me, I’ll never talk to you again.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t tell me,” I joked.

“Are you kidding? I’ve got to tell someone.”

Mark? I didn’t say. Something was going on there that still needed to be worked out.

So Carrie went on rounds with me and slowly explained how, at first, they’d decided to trade some of Drew’s former stock to Uncle Eric, in exchange for his promise that he wouldn’t sell it for at least five years -- and even then, that they’d have first shot at it when he did. “We figured that, when his stock wasn’t caught in the middle of a bidding war, it would just be at normal price, and we could afford that. It was all this craziness of people trying to get control of the company that made Eric’s stock so valuable. Unfortunately,” she went on,” after we’d made the offer to Eric, then Aunt Sandy wanted us to match that for her. And that would have put us in a weaker position, even when Gramma and Grampa said they’s split their own stock between Eric and Sandy and keep none of it for themselves. They figured they had enough money to live on anyhow, and said, if something really went wrong, they could depend on the rest of us.”

She laughed at that, and I joked, “I hope my dad doesn’t feel the same way. Anything I’m earning now couldn’t keep us off the street.”

I’ll give you a raise,” Carrie promised, smiling.

“Wait till Dad’s begging.”

“In any case, we didn’t have to trade anything to anyone,” she continued. “So my grandparents are safe, and my aunt and uncle are just where they started. It turned out not to matter.”

“Why?” I asked.

She grinned again. “That’s the part you’ve got to be really quiet about -- though I trust you.”

I swore on my father’s head, though Carrie knew that value.

“The thing is,” she said, “that when Mom talked about ‘those largest investors giving us their backing,’ well, there really is only one. Denny’s been buying stock in the Mill since it was first offered. And since the stock started off pretty cheap, and it’s now worth a lot more, and since he just kept buying ‘cause he doesn’t have a lot of other expenses, well, Denny’s now owns even more of the Mill than I do. When you add his stock to all of ours, we’re over seventy percent.”

“Wow!” was all I could manage to say, but I was thinking that it didn’t matter any more what kind of small town party boy anyone thought Denny was. He was a fairly rich party boy. That was just neat.

As part of my rounds, I needed to check the Founder’s House, but Carrie wasn’t ready to go in there. She waited in the driveway as I quickly rattled the front, back, and porch doors. Inside, the house was quiet and dark, and probably as pretty as ever. Drew’s new Audi still sat near the garage, but I suppose that no one in the family wanted that, either. And I wondered if any of the Kohlers would ever be comfortable in the house again.

At the Mill, Carrie went upstairs. She was going home, she said, to collapse. Cameron, on the other hand, had a date. “I told you. Gotta move on,” he counseled, grinning.

“I just got back,” I protested. “And I’m already in love.”

“He has a husband,” Cameron said, laughing, but he was thinking of Kevin. I knew that Dane was almost home, and that somewhere in Italy, he was taking his last pictures and deciding what to pack. Or he and Craig were having sex on some balcony.

That did it. I wasn’t going to the gym, And I wasn’t going to play my guitar. And I sure in hell wasn’t going to the reservoir. I was going to… Damn. I was going to have dinner with Dad.