Gap Year - 37. Chapter 37

February 23, 2004

Escorial

Palo Alto, CA

Will

I didn’t really have anything going on today, but even though I was hungry, I took a shower and made myself presentable before I went up to the kitchen to have breakfast. It was a good thing that I had because I found Aunt Claire sitting with Stef and Grand at the table. “Good morning,” I said cheerfully, then went over to greet Carmen and thank her again for putting together such an awesome party on Saturday night.

“I will make you something besides fruit and cheese,” she said quietly in Spanish.

“Gracias,” I said, then went over to sit at the table with them. No one seemed happy in general, and they sure didn’t seem happy that I was there. I let that bother me for a second, then decided that if they wanted to have a private conversation, there were lots of places in this house to do that. The kitchen was for cooking and eating. “Do you have some time this morning to talk about a few things?” I asked Stef and Grand. I wanted to talk to them about the foundation, and the information that I’d gotten from Mike.

“I fear that I have a meeting I must get to,” Stef said, and stood up to go. It was like he was using my question as an excuse to leave. “Perhaps we can talk this evening.”

“That’s fine,” I said. The Board meeting wasn’t until March 9, and if they were busy, I could still do my own research.

“I will see you later,” he said, and was clearly annoyed. He walked out of the room, leaving the three of us, along with the staff, alone.

“I had expected more support from you on this issue,” Claire said to Grand, evidently returning to their previous topic and conversation. It was interesting to watch the two of them when they disagreed and were irritated with each other. They both had the same icy, bloodless tone, while at the same time perfectly emphasizing every letter of every word, as if their precision speech would make them right.

“I think that in this situation, you are attempting to use my dedication to education to persuade me to do something I do not agree with,” Grand said. “I would also note that John’s refusal to go to school is not the core issue.”

“So your solution is that we should give our approval to John and let him join this band?” she demanded, outraged.

“I think that is really your only option,” he said. “To stand in the way of John’s dreams is not only a mistake, in my opinion, it is harmful to everyone.”

“And when he is in some horrible club in Seattle, surrounded by people who would prey on him, that won’t be harmful?” she demanded. I was guessing visions of grunge music must have been what she was channeling and tried not to laugh at how that was the antithesis of Aunt Claire. She was like the anti-grunge.

“It is most interesting to have Will here to remind me that I had similar conversations with Bradley, and to reflect on how wrong Bradley was back then, and how he was making the same mistakes you are making now,” Grand said testily. He’d clearly been arguing with her for a while and had lost his patience, otherwise he wouldn’t have been so cold.

“If you don’t let him do this, he will hold it against you for the rest of his life,” I said calmly. I probably shouldn’t have said anything, but I decided that my strategy would be to let her argue with me for a while and thus give Grand a break. “And there’s a good chance that he’ll get involved in a much worse scene than he’s in now.”

“I did not ask for your opinion,” she snapped at me. I raised an eyebrow and merely took a bite of the French toast Carmen had put in front of me. I continued to eat while no one said anything for a few minutes. “I am very sorry I was so rude to you,” she finally said to me.

I shrugged. “I thought maybe you’d want my perspective. I’ll keep my mouth shut.” Another long pause, which conveniently enough gave me a chance to eat more of my breakfast.

“Can you explain your statement?” she asked, referring to my original comment.

“Sure,” I said, smiling to try and calm her down. “I’m thinking of Darius’s deal where he decided to join the Navy, and how I argued and fought with him over it. It was a total waste of time on my part because he’d made up his mind it was something he was going to do. I argued with him about it because I thought it was just some choice he was making, but what he’d done is lay down a clear path for what he wanted to do with his life. It was so much bigger than I’d seen. All of my arguments with him were useless. The only thing he really wanted from me was my support.”

“He’s much older and more mature than John,” she objected.

“That may be, but I have to tell you, nothing is going to piss John off more than you saying just that,” I said. “He wants you to treat him like a rational person, which means he wants you to deal with the issue. He doesn’t want you to hold your age over his as a reason for him to be wrong. He wants you to give him factual reasons.”

“You’re suggesting experience isn’t important?” she challenged.

“I’m saying that you need to be able to back up your points without pulling out the age card,” I said. “This is John’s dream, and if you stand in his way, it will damage your relationship with him, not just for a while, but forever.”

“He is not the type to carry a grudge,” she said.

“No, he’s not,” I agreed. “He’s one of the coolest dudes I know. Everyone likes him, and he doesn’t cause problems or create strife.”

“He’s not acting that way now,” she noted.

“He’s not, and that should clue you in to how big of a deal this is to him,” I said. “It has ripped him to the core to go up against you and Jack about this. He’s always been a dutiful son. I couldn’t help but think of how much my father would give if I were more like him.” That made Grand chuckle. “Don’t you get how important this is to him? Doesn’t the fact that your kid, who normally doesn’t rebel and does just what you ask him to do is suddenly going postal, give you a clue about how badly he wants to do this?”

“John has been a good son,” she agreed with a small smile.

“John is a good son,” I corrected firmly. “So you can stand in his way, but you’ll gain nothing. And while Ryan and the others are out touring around, recording records, and John is home studying calculus, he will resent you more and more each day.”

She sighed and looked defeated. “How is that less dangerous than him staying here?”

“Because he’s a musician, so instead of the people he plays with now, he’ll go out and make new friends to jam with. I think those people are much more likely to get him in trouble,” I said. “You want him playing in a band in the City with a bunch of heroin addicts pretending they’re Kurt Cobain?” Her reaction to that told me I must have read her right on her pondering the grunge movement as the ultimate horror story.

“I see your points,” she said with a sigh.

“Glad I could help,” I replied, and refocused on my breakfast.

She smiled at Grand. “Our conversations are not always pleasant, but they are helpful. Thank you.” She got up and of course we stood up too, because it was instinctive to give her that kind of courtesy. “I love you, Daddy,” she said, and gave Grand a big hug.

“I love you too,” he said, smiling at her.

“Would you be so kind as to walk me out?” she asked me.

“It would be an honor,” I said, and offered her my arm.

“Thank you for making me see the real nature of this situation,” she said, and squeezed my arm to emphasize her statement.

“I’m glad I could help,” I said, and smiled back at her.

She waited until we were outside to broach the topic that was on her mind. “I am very sorry that I raised your ecstasy use in our conversation last night. I feel as if I betrayed your father’s confidence.”

“He makes it hard to trust him,” I said, ignoring her apology, because I was so over her role in that.

“He raised the issue with me and Jack because it had upset him, and he was trying to grapple with how badly he had screwed up his life in just a week,” she said. I made to talk, but she stopped me. “I want you to understand the context. He approached us as friends and confidants. He was not complaining about something you did.”

“Okay,” I said, as we stood by her car.

“The comments you made last night about him not having that moral authority that he once felt he had, that is exactly what he was trying to cope with. It is not easy for him to have to face the fact that his errors may have caused you to make a bad decision by following his example,” she said. It was truly stunning how self-absorbed these people were.

I shook my head at how obtuse he, and by extension she was being. “He thinks everything is about him. It’s not. I made the decision to roll with my new friend because I wanted to, not because of anything he did.”

“And the fact that he had used crystal meth did not influence your decision at all?” she asked, surprised. I wanted to shake my head in disgust. It was amazing that they thought they had that kind of influence and power over any of us.

“Not at all,” I said. “When John and Marie party, I guarantee you they don’t stop and wonder whether you approve or not.”

She smiled then actually laughed at that. “I wouldn’t have thought that way either when I was a teenager.”

“I’m hoping my dad will someday be a little less focused on what he wants so he will ultimately be able to think about how other people think and feel,” I said, possibly a bit too bitterly.

“Maybe someday he will indeed understand that,” she said.

“Maybe, but I’m not hopeful,” I said.

“You wouldn’t happen to know where John is, would you?” she asked. “I had expected he would be here.”

“He’s in school,” I said, and raised an eyebrow to rub that in. “I’d say your dutiful son is giving you a chance to figure things out before he has to follow through on his threats. If you’re smart, you won’t make him go scorched earth on you.” She stared at me, completely stunned. I took that opportunity to give her a kiss on the cheek, then went back to the kitchen to talk to Grand, but he’d already escaped.

Mike had given me a copy of the stuff he’d sent to the foundation and a copy of their response along with the report he’d done for class. I’d made additional copies for Grand, Stef, Grandmaman, Claire, and my father since they were all on the Board of the Foundation, and put each of them in a manilla envelope with their name on it. I went to my room, grabbed the one marked “Grand”, and headed up to Grand’s office. I was not surprised to find the door closed. I knocked and waited until I finally heard him grudgingly say ‘enter’. I went in to find him sitting at his desk with papers arranged in front of him.

“You vanished pretty quickly,” I said to him with a smile.

“Did you need something?” he asked coldly.

“I did,” I said, maintaining my cheerful demeanor. “You are certainly not your usual charming and polite self.”

“Is it important?” he asked even more frigidly than the first question. This was his way of telling me to get the fuck out, but he was being incredibly rude, at least for him.

“I think so,” I said. I walked over to his desk, tossed the manila envelope on top of his papers causing some of them to flutter around, then walked out.

I went to the stables and smiled at how excited Psyche was to see me. While I put on my tack, the stable hand got her ready, so in no time at all we were exploring the area around Escorial. It was in the fifties and sunny, while the hills were a beautiful green courtesy of the winter rains. I let Psyche run a bit to get rid of some of her excess energy, then we just meandered around, mostly at a walk, enjoying the sunny weather and light winds. We rode by the Stanford Dish, where there were still no signs of construction on Stef’s helicopter pad. I wondered if they would be able to get that done by the time I graduated from Harvard. I was kind of bored with the open land, so I went back to the stables to get a bag to put on her ass so if she pooped it wouldn’t make a mess on the ground. While I was doing that, I saw Grand in his own gear mounting Charger. I said nothing, since I’d already tried to have a conversation with him and he’d already shut me down pretty rudely.

“Are you done riding?” he asked, as he maneuvered Charger over toward us. Psyche didn’t like Charger, and tried to nip at him until I reined her in.

“I was going to head down to campus for something more interesting,” I said.

“I am of a mind to join you, if you have no objection,” he said.

“As long as your manners have improved, I’m fine with that,” I said, but with enough playfulness in my tone to make it not mean.

We started walking the horses side by side, and a fast but light jerk on Psyche’s reins convinced her to stop harassing Charger. “I am sorry I treated you so coldly,” he said. “I find I am losing patience with vacuous arguments.”

I chuckled. “Hopefully your grandchildren are almost grown up enough that you won’t have to have these arguments anymore.”

He smiled. “I am reminded of an idiom that says that insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and hoping for different results. It is evident that neither your father nor your aunt have fully grasped that concept.”

I nodded. “It seems to me that it’s more about getting what they want than about doing what is right.”

“Perhaps,” he said.

“I think that Claire and Jack will get the picture faster than my father,” I said ruefully, making Grand laugh.

“Let us hope,” he agreed.

“What really blows my mind about Claire, Jack, and my father is how important they think they are,” I said. That was a provocative enough statement to make him stare at me in surprise.

“You do not think they are important?” he asked.

“I think they think their actions and opinions matter more to me and my cousins than they do,” I said. “Way more.”

“You are referring to John joining this band?” he asked.

“Not really,” I said. “Claire just apologized for bringing up my ecstasy use at the party, and how my father thinks it’s his fault I did that. He thinks that because he slipped up and did Tina, I’ve become some tweaked out raver.”

Grand laughed. “I have never known my various sins to have any influence on any member of my family.”

“Perhaps they are more powerful than you,” I joked, laughing with him.

“I think not,” he said with a faux arrogance which made me laugh even harder. After I’d let that laugh track exhaust itself, he changed the subject of our conversation. “I read your papers. It would appear that the grant that was submitted to the foundation was entirely valid and is consistent with what we have done in the past. I am not sure why it was rejected.”

“I’m trying to figure out why a gay-straight alliance at a university based in this area would have gotten rejected,” I said, almost gritting my teeth I was so annoyed.

“As I said, I am not sure why either, so we will have to ask the reason,” Grand said. I was getting a little irritated that he didn’t seem to think this was a big problem. “I would encourage them to resubmit their request after we have figured out what the issue was.”

“I already gave them the $200,000 they asked for,” I told him. I was really stunned that he didn’t offer to jump in and do just what I’d done. It wasn’t like him to avoid correcting an error, especially over something like this.

“And you were not interested in the reasons why the Foundation did not approve their request?” Grand asked.

“After I read Mike’s report, I didn’t think that mattered,” I said. “I guess I didn’t have confidence in their judgment, so I made the decision based on the grant request.”

“I do not want to be rude to you twice in one day,” he said, which freaked me out a bit. He was asking me to let him speak candidly.

“Go ahead,” I said warily.

“You seem outraged about this, and how the Foundation is run,” he started.

“This doesn’t bother you, the stuff Mike put in his report?” I interrupted. I got a dirty look for that, but this was important to me. Mike had basically outlined all the things he’d told me in Santa Cruz in that report. I thought he’d been pretty thorough, but his grammar left a lot to be desired.

“Craig Arundel has run the Foundation to the Board’s satisfaction,” Grand said. “Mr. McConnell’s report raises questions about that but proves nothing.”

“What about the grant?” I asked.

“We do not know why it was declined, and even if there was no legitimate reason, there is probably an explanation,” he said. “And if it was an error, well, they do happen.”

“Why are you being so calm about this?” I asked. I figured he’d at least see the logic in some of Mike’s criticisms and analysis.

“Because Mr. Arundel works for us, and as I said, the Board has approved of his conduct,” Grand said. “It is important that we give people who work for us the benefit of the doubt.” He gave me time to ponder that, until it finally worked through my mind.

“Kind of like the situation with Pat,” I concluded. Pat had been my driver when I was fourteen and had been accused of molesting a dude he guarded before me. My father had jumped in and treated him like he was guilty even though he professed his innocence, and I had called him on just this issue, on not having the backs of the people who worked for us.

“I can see the similarities,” he said, knowing he’d made his point.

“So do we just ignore this and pretend like nothing ever happened?” I asked, a bit confused about how to proceed.

“No,” he said firmly. “But you cannot use hearsay and opinion to tarnish Mr. Arundel and his management team.”

“I need facts,” I concluded. He was right about that, since Mike’s assertions weren’t really backed up by hard data, at least not in a way that the other Board members would find it convincing.

“Those would be helpful,” he said in a playfully snarky way.

“Alright, so I need to check out these allegations that Mike has made,” I said, even as my mind began to try and think about how to do that. “Then what?”

“After you compile your own report, I would submit it to Stef, as chairman of the board,” Grand said. “You should ask that it be added to the agenda.”

“Then we talk about it at the Board meeting?” I asked.

“We do,” he said.

“Then what happens?” I asked.

“Then we give Mr. Arundel a chance to address the issues, and based on his response, we decide if his action plan is satisfactory,” he said. “If it is not, then we have a bigger decision to make.” I knew that meant firing Arundel, but I wanted to know how that would work, so I probed further.

“What if the Board isn’t satisfied?”

“We will have to cross that river if we get to it,” he said, putting me off.

“Look, I’m not trying to have the guy fired, I just want to know how this process works,” I said firmly.

He nodded. “The Board would meet without Mr. Arundel and discuss his performance. In such a situation, they would most likely decide that he should leave the Foundation and would then delegate to the Executive Committee the task to negotiate his exit.”

“Thank you for enlightening me,” I said.

“I have become used to it,” he said, pretending to be annoyed when he wasn’t.

“I had an idea about the Foundation, kind of related to this, but not entirely,” I said.

“I would remind you that you have not even attended your first Board meeting,” he cautioned, worried that I’d come in like a hurricane, create a scene and leave chaos in my wake. I laughed internally about that and ignored his concerns since I would probably do that anyway.

“I see,” I said. “So I am not allowed to speak or offer ideas until I’ve been on the Board for how long?”

“It is not a seniority-based system,” he replied gruffly. I raised an eyebrow to challenge him. “What is your idea?” I smiled at him, since that was his own way of admitting my newness to the Board wasn’t an issue.

“I think that the Board should approve all the money awarded,” I said. “It seems to me that the Board is all focused on raising money, but in reality, what we spend it on is more important.”

“That would seem to be a lot of work for Board members,” he said. “If there are thousands of grant applications, that is asking a lot for people to read through them.”

I nodded. “I can see that as an issue. How would you solve that problem?”

He gave me an odd look for asking that, and therefore pulling him into my scheme. “I would set a spending limit such that anything above it requires a Board authorization, and I would set up a rubric for evaluation of projects so Board members can easily evaluate them. And if it is felt that is too much work for the entire Board, I would set up a sub-committee to approve projects.”

“I like your idea,” I said with a smile. He shook his head at me. “Will you help me write that up as a motion?”

“Shouldn’t you collect your data first?” he challenged.

“I think that whether we come up with anything to back up Mike’s allegations or not, this is still a good idea,” I said. We rode on for a few minutes, neither one of us saying anything.

“I’ll draft something for us to review tomorrow,” he said.

“In the meantime, I’ll start working on my research,” I said.

“I would caution you to be discreet,” he said. I looked at him questioningly. “Asking for data should not be a problem, but interviewing employees could be.”

“Why?” I asked.

“Because the role of a Board is oversight, not management,” he said. “It is imperative that individual Board members do not get involved in the actual operation of the Foundation.”

“Unless it’s an approved Board function, like our proposal,” I concluded.

“Yes,” he said. “I would like to share Mike’s reports with Stef.”

“I was planning to do that anyway,” I said. “I made him a copy. I made copies for Grandmaman, Claire, and my father. I’ll share the copies with my father when we’re back on speaking terms.”

“I did not think you were that angry at him,” Grand probed.

“I’m at the point where we’re civil and friendly, but not to the point where I trust him enough to talk about something like this,” I said.

“You should remember that he is a Board member,” Grand said. He was right, and that meant my father would have to find out eventually anyway. It was better to get him on board on the front end rather than waiting until the end, because then he’d be mad that he hadn’t known what was going on.

“I’ll tell him,” I conceded.

“I think that is an excellent idea,” he said. We walked the horses through the campus, pausing as students said ‘hi’ to Grand. It was fun because I got to check out the hot guys, but I didn’t know anyone until I spotted Tony.

“Tony!” I shouted, getting an annoyed look from Grand because of my volume. Tony looked around then spotted me on Psyche. He came hurrying over, grinning.

“Hey!” he said, and reached up to shake my hand. Just that little physical contact with him started my hormones whirling. “You’re back in town!”

“I am,” I said. “Want to come up and see me?”

“I can do that,” he said.

“Perhaps you can join us for dinner,” Grand interjected, making me look boorish.

“Seven o’clock,” Tony said, and reached up to shake his hand as well. “I’ll be there.”

“I have dessert planned,” I said in my sultriest voice.

“See, I was hoping for an appetizer,” he said, in a tone even sexier than mine.

“Then I’ll see you at 6,” I said.

“I’ll be there,” he said, then went off to do whatever.

“It looks like this ride has been very productive,” I said.

“I thought it was productive even before we encountered Tony,” he said, pretending to be bitchy.

“I wonder if he’s better in bed than Tom?” I asked, as if musing to myself. He gave me a foul look.

“It is probably time for us to head back,” he said grumpily, making me laugh. We chatted about mundane things until we got back to Escorial, where I was able to hand my horse off to the stable hands and escape to my room. I was surprised to see a big manila accordion folder, one with a flap that sealed it when the cord was wrapped around it. I picked it up, noting that there were a lot of papers in it, but the thing that caught my eye was the envelope attached to the outside with “Will” written on it. It was my father’s handwriting.

February 23, 2004

Will,

I am very sorry that I violated your trust by revealing your ecstasy use to Claire and Jack. I was really struggling with my own meth binge and how that had completely ruined any claim I had to moral authority. In the end, Jake helped me realize that I’d lost that right a long time ago, so while that was a nice epiphany, it saddens me that the cost was to damage our relationship.

I reflected on how you helped me out this weekend, and how you’ve always helped me out. It is amazing and not a little disconcerting that you read my mind so well. In every crisis that I’ve been through since you were a teenager, you’ve been the one who has been my strongest supporter and who has helped me out the most. In return for you having my back, I repay you by being a dick, questioning your judgment, and insinuating that you are out of line. That introspection leads me to the conclusion that I’m not a very good person.

It will come as no great revelation to you when I point out that most of our problems happen because of my tendency to try to control the world and the people around me. I pondered that with your emancipation, the only real leverage I had over you was financial. What the papers in this folder will demonstrate is that I’ve taken away that tool and given you control over your money, or at least a big chunk of it.

I’ve transferred control on disbursement of assets in several of your trusts so that you have access to approximately $150 million. I picked these trusts because they were the easiest to sign over, but I can do the rest if you want. I had planned that Stef and I would keep managing these assets, but you can change that if you want.

Giving you access to that much money will, I hope, demonstrate three things to you. The first is that, despite my idiotic ranting at times, I have complete confidence in your judgment and ability to handle assets of this magnitude. The second thing is that I’m hoping by removing this as an issue, we can recreate our relationship without this last vestige of my control. This means I will be merely an annoyance and not a hindrance. The third issue is that I do not tell you often enough how proud I am of you and how much I love you. It makes sense that I’d try to do that with money.

I love you,

Dad.

I sat there, holding the letter, totally stunned and amazed.