by David Harder
“Oh, surprise me, Katherine. I’ll be okay with anything. You know this will be a tough meeting because I don’t think Michelle will get through it without a good cry. I really need you there for support—if you catch my meaning.”
“You can count on me, Mr. Martin, but I believe Michelle is tougher than you think.”
“Perhaps, but I’d appreciate you being there nonetheless.”
“Yes, Mr. Martin. Is there anything else?”
“No, Katherine, not for now. Thank you. You’re a peach.”
After hanging up the phone, Nate rose from his chair and walked over to the large windows facing the city. He assumed his usual contemplative posture.
* * *
Tony picked up his phone and pressed a button, waiting for his secretary to answer.
“Yes, Mr. Toncetti?”
“Shelly, please look in Jim Kreider’s file and bring me the contact numbers for his three children—Stephanie, Robert, and Staci.”
“I’ll have them to you in a few minutes, sir.”
“Thanks.”
Tony looked at his watch. He noted that there was a three-hour different to the West Coast and two hours difference to Texas. It was already five p.m., so he’d have to call them when he got home that night.
After a soft knock on the door, a young woman in her mid-twenties walked in and smiled. She handed a note to Tony and waited. Tony quickly scanned the page.
“Excellent. Thanks, Shelly.”
Tony was dreading the calls to Jim’s children. He may have been a hardened lawyer, whose skills were honed in trial courts, but he had children of his own and knew the messenger always ends up being the bad guy.
Later that evening, after dinner with his family, Tony excused himself from the dinner table and retreated to his study. Pouring a glass of treasured cognac, Tony sat behind his desk and studied the note his secretary had given him earlier. Sighing, Tony punched in the number for Stephanie into his cell phone. On the third ring, she answered.
“Hello?”
“Good evening, Stephanie. This is Tony Toncetti, and I’m your father’s lawyer. Is this a good time to talk?”
After a lengthy pause, Stephanie responded but was trying to identify the voice. “Tony who? Do I know you?”
“Tony Toncetti. You and I met some years ago. You were quite young then, and your father brought you to my office. I let you sit behind my desk and play with the telephone while your dad and I spoke.”
Suddenly remembering, Stephanie responded, “Oh yes, I do remember. Wow, that was eons ago. You say you’re my father’s lawyer? Is he in trouble?”
“I’m afraid I have some rather sad news, Stephanie. I’m sorry to tell you, but your father recently passed away.”
There was an extended period of silence. “What? Is this some sort of a joke? How?”
“I assure you, Stephanie, this is not a prank call. Your father summoned me to his dying bedside, and I had no idea the man was even sick.”
“He can’t be dead, Tony. I just received a voice message not more than a week ago. I know I’ve been busy and should have called him back, but school has been brutal.”
“Your father, Jim Kreider, unfortunately, has passed away. I’m so sorry for your loss.”
Tony could hear Stephanie softly crying.
“Perhaps I should call at a later time to discuss this matter further. Shall I call you back in a few hours?”
Between tears, Tony heard her say, “Yeah, sure. That would be nice. Bye.”
There was a click, and the line went dead. Tony muttered under his breath, “Good grief Jim. This is nearly impossible.”
Tony picked up his glass and drained its contents and then poured another. After taking a sip, Tony checked his watch, noting that it was 6:30 p.m. in California. He hoped Robert was available.
Reading the note, Tony punched in the next number and waited. Before Tony heard the first ring in the receiver, a severely hushed voice whispered a response.
“Yes? Who is this?”
“This is Tony Toncetti, and I’m your father’s lawyer. Is this a good time to talk?”
“I’m in class!” Then the line went dead.
Exasperated, Tony stared at the cell phone in his hand. He immediately jumped when the cell phone buzzed. The display indicated he had received a text message.
“How do they do that so fast?” Tony said to himself.
The text message contained abbreviated language—“Cal L8r 2hr”
He shook his head. He was batting a zero.
He got up and headed to the dining room. He then showed the text message to his twelve-year-old son.
“Seriously, Dad?”
“Just give me the translation, please.”
“It says, ‘Call me later in two hours.’”
Tony stared at his cell phone. “Really?”
His son shook his head. “Dad, you’ve got to work on your texting skills. Wow.”
Tony leaned over and kissed his son’s forehead. “Thanks, I will.”
As Tony walked back to the study, he voiced his thoughts out loud, muttering, “Third time is the charm.”
After entering Staci’s number into his cell phone, Tony paused with his finger above the send button. Snatching his glass, Tony added more cognac, but drained the contents in a big gulp and then pressed the button, initiating the phone call. After six rings, Tony was about to hang up when he heard Staci’s voice.
“Hi. It’s Staci and Marcus, and we’re too busy to answer your call. You know the routine. Later.”
A few seconds later, Tony heard the distinctive beep.
“Good evening, Staci. This is Tony Toncetti, and I’m your father’s lawyer. I have an important matter to discuss with you. Please call me at your earliest convenience.” Tony then gave his cell phone number and repeated his name and the number again. He then hung up.
Tony picked up the bottle of cognac and started to pour another glass but realized he was about to pour his third glass of an expensive liqueur. Quickly changing his mind, Tony recorked the cognac and retrieved a bottle of less expensive sherry. He selected a twelve-ounce tumbler, dropped a handful of ice cubes in from the small ice machine sitting on the bar, and filled the glass full. Before capping the sherry bottle, Tony guzzled the glass empty and then refilled it to the top.
“Good grief, Jim, no amount of money covers this kind of nasty work.”
Tony sat at his desk, sipping his sherry when the cell phone rang out. Tony recognized the number.
“Hello, Stephanie. Thank you for calling me back.”
Her voice was shaky. “I’m sorry, but the shock of your call was a bit much to digest, Mr. Toncetti.”
“Please, call me Tony.”
“Okay, Tony. Please explain to me the details concerning my father’s death. I cannot remember a day when my father was ever ill!”
Despite the steely response, Tony could hear the raw emotions in the young woman’s voice.
Tony lied about the timing.
“About a week ago, I was summoned by a hospice because your father wanted to speak with me. I must say, I saw your dad about three months earlier in my office to arrange for details in his will, but I hardly recognized Jim when I saw him at the hospice. I don’t think he weighed more than sixty pounds.”
Stephanie gasped. “Oh my. What on earth was happening? And why didn’t he reach out to his family?”
“According to Dr. Tom Nolan, your father was battling several rapidly growing cancers that devastated his body in short order. He passed away two days after my visit. Stephanie, please accept my deepest condolences.”
There was a long silence, and Tony checked the cell phone screen to ensure he was still connected. The call was still active.
“Dr. Tom is still alive? He must be close to a hundred by now.”
“Mid-eighties, I believe.”
“Has someone contacted my brother and sister?”
“I’ve initiated contact with all of
you, but you’re the first person I’ve spoken with.”
“Well, good luck with any response from Staci. Robert will not know what to do. You want me to call them?”
“No, please don’t. I have instructions from your father; and if you’re okay, I’d like to handle the calls.”
Stephanie was a little hurt, being she was the oldest and felt responsible. “Are you sure, Tony?”
“If I need help, you’ll be the first person I call.”
After a lengthy pause, she said, “What, if any, are the arrangements for Father’s funeral?”
“Your dad took care of many details ahead of time.”
“That figures, and it would be just like him! So, what’s next, Tony?” Stephanie’s voice was obtaining an icy edge.
“I’m following your father’s instructions, and I suspect we should have everything arranged within the next few weeks or so.”
“Three weeks for closure?” Stephanie was exhausted by this point and losing patience. “Fine, Tony. Just let me know when the three of us will meet. We can stay at the house.”
“Well, that isn’t going to be possible. Your father sold the home a couple of months ago.”
This bit of information exceeded Stephanie’s limits. She was being overwhelmed with all the news, and it was too much to comprehend. Tony could hear her voice quickly fading away as Stephanie abruptly ended the call.
“I look forward to your next call, Tony.” The line went dead with a loud click.
Tony was not amused. And this was just the first call!
Not enough time had elapsed to call Robert back, so Tony tried calling Staci again. As before, the phone rang six times, and then he received her voice message. Tony repeated his message after hearing a beep on the phone.
“Good evening, Staci. This is Tony Toncetti again. It’s important that I speak with you soon regarding your father. Please call me at your earliest convenience.” Tony then gave his cell phone number and repeated his name and the number again. He then hung up.
The alcohol was having the desired effect, and Tony was starting to feel less tense. He looked at his watch and realized he had just enough time to catch the last innings of the game.
Tony grabbed his sherry glass and headed to the family room. A muted commercial was scrolling across the TV, and Tony’s young son rapidly filled in the necessary details of the game up to this point. Grateful for some semblance of normal life, Tony smiled and eased onto the sofa, alongside his son.
Less than thirty minutes later, Tony’s cell phone buzzed again. When he looked at the phone, he saw another text message from Robert. The message was another cryptic jumble of letters. Again, his son interpreted the message, indicating it was okay to call now, but after hours studies would begin shortly. Standing, Tony started walking back to his study.
“Ah, Dad, where you going now? The game isn’t over yet.”
Tony leaned over and kissed his son’s forehead again, running his fingers through his hair.
“Work beckons me, son. I’ll be back shortly.”
“Yeah right, like never!”
Guilt stabbed at Tony’s heart. “I’ll want the details on the game when I get back. Okay?”
His son stared at the TV and ignored Tony. Frustrated, Tony exchanged looks with his wife, who produced a thin smile and shrugged. Tony turned and went to the study. The sherry bottle was still sitting on the bar, so Tony poured a half a glass and sat behind his desk. Pressing the numbers, he took a deep breath and touched the send button. One ring later, Robert answered.
“Mr. Toncetti, to what do I owe the honor of this call?”
“Robert, please call me Tony.”
“Okay, Counselor, first name basis means bad news.”
“Are you doing okay in college? Oh, and I’m sorry for interrupting you in class earlier.”
“Cut to the chase, Tony. Is dad cutting off my funding?”
“Robert, I have some unfortunate news. I’m sorry to tell you, but your father recently passed away. Please accept my condolences.”
Tony could hear background noises, and Robert breathing hard. He let the silence hold space.
“How am I going to get through my studies? I haven’t got the kind of money required for a school like Santa Clara. Besides, I still have two and a half more years! Your timing couldn’t be worse, Tony.”
Thoughts flashed through Tony’s mind. This kid was thinking about the money first. He would be a killer attorney.
“Robert, you have nothing to worry about. Your father has provided for all three of his children in advance.”
“Well, he better have. It costs a fortune to be here. Also, wasn’t it you who talked me into being a lawyer in the first place? I hope you let my control-freak sister know about all this!”
“I contacted Stephanie first. You’re my second call.”
“Well, good luck on reaching Staci and her teeny-bopper squeeze.”
“Your sister said the same, and I have made two attempts so far.”
“So, is her circus-freak boyfriend invited to the services? Dad was pretty clear about not liking him, not one bit.”
“Nothing has been determined, Robert. I’m initiating the calls now and following through on your father’s arrangements.”
“I suppose Stephanie said we’ll gather like a loving family at Mom and Dad’s house?”
“I’m afraid that won’t be possible. Your father sold the home a couple of months ago.”
“Why? He didn’t need the money.”
“I suspect he was preparing for his untimely demise and didn’t want to burden his children.”
“Well, I’m just glad Mom isn’t around to deal with this mess. She’d be a basket case or screaming or both!”
Tony didn’t know how to respond to Robert’s comment.
“Robert, I’m following your father’s instructions, and I suspect everything should be arranged within the next few weeks. I’ll contact you with the details. When does your semester end? I’d like to coordinate the timing of the service so that you don’t miss any classes.”
“We’re off for two weeks during Thanksgiving.”
Tony scanned his calendar. “That’s next month and about four weeks away. I think that will be perfect.”
“Tony, I need, to be honest with you. I’m not sure I can swing the travel costs.”
“Not to worry, Robert. Your father’s company is picking up the tab for all the family travel and lodging.”
“Wow.”
“I agree, Robert, very generous indeed.”
“Well, I know you’re probably charging my dad’s account for every minute we’re on the phone, so I’ll sign off and wait for your next call. Thanks, Tony.”
“Good night, Robert.”
When Tony checked the time, he realized it was too late to call Staci. He’d have to try again at work tomorrow. Besides, he was tired.
Tony finished his sherry glass and hurried to the family room. He could hear his son cheering on their team. Tony was all smiles when he entered the family room.
CHAPTER NINE
“SHELLY, DO ME A FAVOR. Please take my cell phone and try calling Jim Kreider’s daughter, Staci. I’ve not been able to reach her and left two messages, so no more voice messages. It takes six rings before the voicemail kicks in, so keep trying throughout the day.” Tony had stopped at his secretary’s desk to hand over his personal cell phone.
“What shall I tell her, Mr. Toncetti, when I reach her?” Shelly asked somewhat bewildered.
“Tell her to hold and then find me. Whatever you do, don’t discuss her father or his death. Please.”
“No problem, Mr. Toncetti. Consider it done.”
“Thank you, Shelly. It’s important I reach Staci within the next day or two.”
* * *
On Thursday, when Nate returned from his sales meeting with the department heads, he was startled by the rearrangement of his office. Generally, there were two leather sofas facing each other
on the other side of the room, opposite his desk, with a large, square coffee table in the middle. These were missing and replaced by a large conference table and three comfortable, rolling side chairs. For a moment, Nate could swear the funeral meetings at Tony Toncetti’s firm had been moved to Nate’s office. A cart loaded with file boxes sat at one end of the table, and Katherine was sorting the files and arranging them on the long conference table.
“Hello, Mr. Martin.”
“Katherine, what’s all this?”
While holding a stack of folders in one arm, Katherine swept her other arm across the table. “These, sir, are Mr. Kreider’s clients.”
Nate was surprised. “I knew the man was a go-getter and provided a huge income base for this company, but I had no idea he was covering so many clients. There must be over one hundred folders here.”
“Counting the ones still on the cart, 258, to be exact.”
“Oh my, this will be a long night. I’m afraid we may have to complete this project over a couple of evenings.”
“You’re probably correct, Mr. Martin, but at least Mr. Kreider was well-organized, and it’s going to make our job much easier.”
“What do you mean?”
“Mr. Kreider used different colored folders, which represented divisions of his clients.” Katherine pointed to the far end of the table. “The blue folders on that end are his European clients. The dark blue folders are high volume accounts; the light blue are smaller accounts—ones under 10,000 a month in revenue.”
“Wow, I had no idea he went to the trouble.”
“Michelle said he started this process last year and was making slow progress, but about three weeks before he took his leave of absence, he pulled some all-night shifts and finished this in just over one week. Michelle was surprised by the effort; but in retrospect, we all know why now.”
Standing in his contemplative posture, Nate surveyed the table. “I swear Jim was a man of mystery. I’m still learning things about the man, even though he is gone from us. May he rest in peace.”
“Michelle is still going through the archive folders to make sure we didn’t miss anything. Over there—the pile of colored folders that have the wide, black stripe—those are accounts that were closed or moved to another company. He maintained the color designations even in his closed accounts.”