Quabbin - 15. Chapter 15

Cameron might’ve noticed I was wearing the same shirt, though I almost always wore the same kind of jeans. But he was too distracted by something bigger. The news of the morning was that Bill Grenon wanted to buy the Mill.

“Bill Grenon?” I asked, laughing. “Our Bill Grenon? The me, women, and children first Bill Grenon?”

“He’s not wrong to see this as an opportunity,” Cameron pointed out. “So he’s put together a group of investors.”

“Who’d want to be in the same group as Bill Grenon?”

“Denny Parnell, for one,” Cameron smirked.

Whoa! That stopped me. Denny wasn’t stupid. Though, actually, that story was a rumor -- which Denny spent the morning making sure everyone knew wasn’t true. Which only confirmed, for everyone, that he was bluffing.

“What do you think?” I asked Cameron.

“I have no idea.”

“Is it important?” I pushed on.

Cameron took a deep breath, as if he was going to say something really intelligent. Then he made a sound like a deflating pig.

“That’s a definite ‘No?’” I asked.

“I’m still gonna have my job,” he insisted. “No matter who owns the Mill. And even if I don’t, there’s not that much at stake -- I can always find another one. But I think that’s what Grenon’s worried about. That this is the only place that’d hire him. The only people loyal enough to keep him around.”

“Or dumb enough,” I offered.

“Or dumb enough.”

“But who’d stay if Grenon was the owner? That’s the part I don’t get.”

“Well, he’d only be part owner, for one thing,” Cameron explained. “And a very small part, I’ll bet. I mean, look, the guy has four kids, so his wife can’t work full-time -- she’s some kind of part-time decorator. And they have an expensive house -- old, and all restored -- in Hadley.”

“How do you know?” I asked. “Have you dropped things off there?”

“They have a very hot son,” Cameron told me, grinning.

I did some quick figuring. Unless Bill was way older than I thought, or if he started having kids in junior high, his son couldn’t have been much past eighteen. Cameron!

Which was about the same time Cameron asked, “Isn’t that the same shirt you had on yesterday?”

People are selling the farm around us, and we’re about to fight over chickens.

“Nah,” I lied. “I’ve got a couple of these.”

“All ripped in the same place?” He pointed under my arm.

“Just about -- they’re all too tight. I’ve been bulking up too much.”

He studied my shirt, maybe trying to recognize a stain. Then he said, “Well, I called Kevin last night, and he wasn’t home.”

Of course, he was, and I’d heard both of Cameron’s messages come in on the machine. He hadn’t embarrassed himself or anything. He was just a guy trying to get laid.

“You ever gonna date seriously?” I asked, trying to lead him from my shirt.

“Where’d that come from?”

“Curious, that’s all.” I did my best not to smile.

He looked at me again, just sipping his coffee. “I think about it,” he admitted. “Almost all my friends are married -- that’s why I spend so much time with idiots like you.”

He grinned, and I shrugged.

“Everyone else needs babysitters,” he went on. “They can’t see a movie. Can’t go to dinner. Can’t do anything without planning way ahead.”

I shrugged again.

“But the big reason I haven’t settled down,” he added after a moment, “is I’m not ready to give up sex.”

“What?” I laughed, figuring he’d meant me to.

“I’m serious,” he insisted. “Every guy I know… friends... my brothers... guys you hear talking in bars… They get married... their dicks fall off.”

I just laughed. He was cracking me up.

“You think I’m kidding? Look at the numbers. Married guys may have sex all the time, but it’s all bad -- short, and rushed, and predictable. The only time they have fun is when they’re sneaking around on their wives. And why would I pick one guy, just to turn around and do that?”

I sure didn’t know.

“I’ll think about it in another ten years,” he finished. “Then consider adopting or having a couple of quick kids so I won’t be seventy-five when they’re in college.”

“You got it all figured out.”

“Nah, I’m bluffing.” He laughed. “I just haven’t met the right guy.”

I laughed with him, and, right about then, work kicked in. Most days, it starts really slow, then it’s a combination of answering phones, and opening gates for delivery trucks, and running employee security checks -- there’s always turnover on the phone lines. The catalogue sales are mainly made by students, who don’t realize how bored they’re going to get. And there’s always making rounds, though I do that toward the end of the day. Also, we do a lot of odd jobs around the Mill, that aren’t really maintenance and aren’t really not. Which is how I ended up in Julia Finnerty’s office in the middle of the afternoon -- chasing a wasp.

“I don’t know how it got in here,” Julia explained. “We never open the windows.”

“Jim will take care of everything,” Mary Foti assured her. “I’ve known him since he was a baby.”

That didn’t make any kind of sense, but I wasn’t gonna teach her logic from the top of a ladder, an especially lightweight one. Instead, I trapped the wasp under a glass, and I was trying to figure out whether to squash it or carry it humanely outside, when Eileen Kohler roared in.

Julia froze. Seeing that was almost fun. Mary just vanished, and I guess I would’ve, too, ‘cause Eileen looked big time pissed. I’d almost never seen her that way. I’d heard her yell at Carrie or Bob, or seen her frustrated by the gang of us, doing something we shouldn’t have. But around the Mill, she was always calm. Now, she whipped past Julia, crashed open Bill’s door, slammed it shut, and then I heard screaming. I took the wasp -- and the ladder -- and got out of there.

“You couldn’t have stayed five more minutes?” Cameron said, laughing. “To see what was going on.”

“We know what’s going on. We’ve been hearing about it all day.”

“But we don’t know what’s really true. We’re stuck down here in the basement, two floors under anything that’s real. And I can only go upstairs so many times before people start wondering what I’m up to.”

“Sorry, Cam.” I’d clearly failed him, and I was the fool. But at least the wasp made it out alive.

Doing rounds, some time after four, I stopped by Kevin’s office. I’d quickly learned where it was, but, like Cameron, I knew better than to hang out there during the day. I also knew we weren’t seeing each other that night.

“I really have to think about this, Jim,” he’d told me as we’d shared his high protein breakfast.

“It’s OK. I don’t know what I’m doing, either.”

“It’s not that I don’t feel something for you… It’s just that…”

“It’s OK…”

I got a hug for that, though it’s not like I was running short of those. Being with Kevin was like re-running all the good parts with Dane -- except that, until my accident, there were no bad parts. I thought that some of my easiness with Kevin had to do with his already being in a long relationship -- we were both kinda broken in. Still, he admitted that he’d also liked hanging out with Cameron and couldn’t deny that he’d do it again. In fact, he’d splashed suds in my face when I’d even joked about making him choose.

“And if Dane walked in right now?” he’d countered, “You wouldn’t fall all out of the tub chasing him?”

“What about your partner?” I’d said. “What’s his name?” But he’d had an answer.

“He’d really hurt you,” Kevin had said, laughing, which made me nervous. “He’s smaller than you, but knows his knives.”

“Shorter?” I asked, trying to work up that. Kevin squinted, as if trying to measure me in the soapy tub.

“Nah, about the same height. But tighter. You’re all flab compared to Steve.”

“I am not flab,” I said, standing to prove it. The water rushed down me like some Niagra.

He grinned. “No, you’re not.”

Which made me feel slightly better about not seeing Kevin for dinner. Let his partner beat up Cameron. I’d sit on the bench.

I also thought Kevin was more comfortable seeing me ‘cause anything permanent between us seemed impossible. He was twenty-five. According to his count, I was twelve. “And you have the cutest ears,” he’d said in the tub, turning them immediately red. “With the face of an angel.”

“I can break steel chains with my chest,” I pointed out.

“Very useful.”

So making rounds, I skipped Kevin. He wasn’t in his office anyway. I kinda peaked. Afterwards, I skipped the gym -- ‘cause my titanium chest was still healing. Cameron had gone off to chase up dinner. He didn’t even mention plans. So I skulked back to Dad. And did he say even the first thing about my not coming in last night? Did he notice the rip in my now-more-than-slightly-smelly shirt? Nah. And I was glad.

After the dishes, I phoned Carrie ‘cause I knew Mark was gone, and she might want someone around to talk. Also, it was a faster way of ending rumors than trying to listen from the top of a ladder.

“You’ve heard?” she said on the phone.

“About Grenon? Oh, yeah.”

“Get me out of here.”

I’d called her cell, so didn’t really know where “here” was, but it turned out to be just down the street. She’d come home after Mark left, though she didn’t want me coming into the house. “Just pick me up outside,” she’d said, but once she looked at my car -- even scrubbed -- she asked, “Do we have to drive that?” Instead, we took her BMW.

She wanted to go to the reservoir. Actually, she’d said, “I just want to get away. “Remember that place we used to go to at Quabbin?”

That place I’m just a little afraid of? I thought. Though I knew nothing would happen with Carrie there with me. Still, “Arise, arise, Mary Hamilton…”

“It’s getting late,” I told her, trying not to seem like a jerk. “The cops’ve been really busy this summer – I can’t remember who told me that. They want everyone gone by dark.”

“Just my luck, to get arrested,” Carrie joked. “ Like nothing bad has already happened.”

“What about the river?” I said. “Up by the bridge?”

“What about Sugar Loaf?”

“Same problem as Quabbin -- the cops.” Also, there was mainly one road up Mount Sugar Loaf. I knew we could hike through the woods, but it was much easier getting lost.

Carrie didn’t talk much while she drove out of Amherst. The CD player was on, but I don’t think she was listening. Her father had been dead barely a week, and now people he’d trusted were fighting over the Mill.

“There’s no way I’m handling this,” she told me at one point. “I want to go back to my apartment, turn on the air conditioner, close all the curtains, and sleep till school starts in September.”

At least, she didn’t want to turn on the gas.

The Connecticut River runs a lot more slowly than it did a hundred years ago, before the dams, but it’s still pretty fast. That’s why we didn’t swim in it often. But it’s pretty to look at, so we parked out by Sunderland and found a rock and sat, dangling our feet into the water. It was way too cold for that, but when I yanked mine out, almost immediately, Carrie just laughed.

“Someone has to drive you to the hospital,” I told her. “You get frostbit, you won’t be able to walk.”

“Who cares?” she asked.

She’d been thinking about her dad a lot, she said. Like Eileen, Carrie couldn’t really believe he was really gone. “I mean, who ever thinks about these things?” she asked. “My grandparents are almost seventy, but they’ve been in good shape all their lives, and I figure they still have plenty of time ahead.”

“Maybe,” I admitted. “But look what happened to Maddie. It could happen to anyone.”

That unintentionally stopped her, ‘cause she knew I didn’t like talking about Maddie. Instead, she turned to Bill Grenon.

It seemed that Bill had given the Kohlers the bad news Monday night -- before he told anyone else -- so no one had really slept. “Bill thought he was being polite,” Carrie said, laughing. “Can you believe that?”

“Why didn’t your Mom just fire him?” I asked, business novice that I am.

“Because he runs the place -- especially with Dad gone. Mom and I can do it, at least, we can eventually -- Mom, Bob, and I. And Denny would help. And Julia -- I don’t think she’ll side with Bill, no matter how much she always protects him. I think all Mom has to do is ask, and Julia will be right there.”

That was a surprise. Though it was the Kohler’s company.

“But Bill runs the Mill so easily… And Mom really doesn’t want to lose him. That’s why she’s so angry at him right now -- she feels completely betrayed.”

“What does he want?” I asked. I’d waited a moment, so it didn’t seem all that important.

“Control.” Carrie laughed. “What does anyone want? He’s afraid we’re gonna ruin the place.”

I laughed at that, which at least made Carrie smile.

“Yeah,” she went on, “like suddenly we won’t know what we’re doing. Hell, Grampa said he’d come back as manager, and he’d stay as long as we needed. He used to run things before Bill. But it was such a different company then, so much smaller. And even though he means well…”

“Can Bill really take over the business? Does he have enough money -- his investors, I mean?”

Carrie was quiet for a moment, and it almost seemed she wasn’t going to tell me. “He knows he’ll never get the stock,” she finally said, “even half of it -- my family holds fifty-five percent. But Bill thinks that if his investors get the rest, they can force us to make some decisions -- like making him CEO.”

“Jesus!”

“Yeah,” she sighed.

“That’s amazing.”

“He can’t even talk. How can he be CEO? A dog would notice.”

“Why does he think he can?”

Carrie needed to think about that. “That’s not even the problem,” she went on eventually. “If he just wanted the title -- just wanted the assurance that we’re not gonna wreck the Mill and wipe out his job -- Mom would give him that, easily. The problem with Bill is that once he thinks he’s CEO, he’ll want to start acting like one. As vice president, he always deferred to Dad. And Dad trusted him, and gave him lots of authority -- especially over things that Dad found boring. But you know how stupid Bill is on everything else… And once you start giving him power...”

Because I didn’t really know what she was talking about, I had to ask, “What’s the worst thing Bill could do?” But Carrie didn’t want to go into it. Still, what surprised me most was how much she knew about the business. We’d all grown up around it, she obviously more than her friends. But she’d never talked about it.

“How’s Mark?” I asked after maybe half a minute -- to end the silence.

“Confused.” She laughed about that. “And this was even before last night. I haven’t been able to reach him today.”

“Confused about what?”

“Us.” She laughed again.

I waited till I knew she wasn’t going on, then asked, “How?” I was back making conversation with Dad, and I wasn’t sure why. Carrie was usually more open.

“Well, it’s bad enough that Mark’s two years ahead of me in school” she explained. “He has to hang around, waiting for me to graduate -- that’s why he’s not rushing his thesis. Still, once I finished, we figured we could go anywhere and do almost anything we wanted. He’d find a good starting job, and I’d find a Master’s program nearby. Now, we’re kind of stuck.”

She hesitated, maybe wondering if she should go on. “It’s even worse for Bob,” she finally said. “He’s only done one year at Amherst, and now he’ll practically have to work full-time. He has to learn half of everything Dad did, while I learn the other half.”

“So the two of you are gonna take over?”

She nodded. “Once we figure out what to do. Though you know how long it’ll take people to trust us. Dad may’ve been running the company when he was still in college, but he had a small, failing, family business that he could only improve. Bob and I could wipe out internationally.”

Carrie finally pulled her feet out of the water -- well, for a long time I think she was just skimming her toes -- and dried them on my socks. That was my fault, for not putting them on, though I would have taken them off again if she’d asked.

“So Mark’s feeling trapped,” she concluded, “and, even worse, he just found out how much money I have. He had no idea.”

“Is that a problem?” I asked.

“Oh, yeah. He knows he can’t make that much in an entire career.”

I hadn’t realized that, either. I knew the Kohlers were well off, though they hadn’t been that rich at the beginning. But the Mill kept growing, and, when they might have moved, they didn’t. They just kept living like the rest of us.

“It really is pretty out here,” Carrie suddenly said, though by then it was so dark, there was almost nothing to see. We looked at stars and tried to remember the names we never knew, but we didn’t really talk more. “You have to work tomorrow?” she asked, after a while.

“Don’t you?” Well, it was a different kind of work

“I’m not going anywhere near that place,” she said. “Not till I have to.”

“How long will that be?”

“I don’t know. Mom’s trying to work a deal with Bill right now. That’s why I wanted to be out of the house -- they’re all there fighting with each other. Mom stupidly thought it would be friendlier if they were out of the office.”

“Then everything could be set by tomorrow.” I tried to sound encouraging.

“I doubt it. Mom’s not gonna give in. To her, it’s Dad’s company -- always has been -- and she’s not gonna lose it, first thing. So she’s got to make Bill feel part of the business, without really giving him any more of the stock. Because then, he possibly could take over.”

And at that point, she almost completely shut down. I wasn’t sure if that’s as far as she knew, or as much as she wanted to tell me. I was able to ask her one more question though, one I’d been trying to avoid asking myself.

“What do you want to do?” I said -- as lightly as possible, and ready to be ignored. Her answer was fast and plain.

“I want Dad back. I don’t want to do anything.”

It seemed a little spoiled, but very honest. And it made me feel dumbly better about myself. I was only broke, untrained, and sleeping with a still-involved guy my best friend also wanted. Oh, yeah, and I was in love with a now-married man. But compared to Carrie, I was practically free.