by Becki Willis
“You’re a fine cook, I’ll give you that. But as the wife of company president, you have no call slaving in the kitchen. We’ll have a staff for that.”
“President? They truly made you president?” Nell’s pale blue eyes glowed with pride as she gazed up at him.
“Darn tootin’. This whole business was my idea, after all.” Harold’s chest swelled, threatening to pop the buttons right off his shirt. He hooked his thumbs through his yellow suspenders. “I even got to choose the name.”
“You don’t say!”
“Yep. They were so impressed with my presentation, they said it was only fitting that I get to name it. ‘This is your baby, after all’, Mansel Debarge told me. ‘You do the honors’.”
“Oh, Harry, I’m so proud of you!” Nell wiped her hands on her apron, making certain they were clean before she took him by the arm and led him into the dining room. “You sit down right here and tell me all about it. Don’t leave out a single word. I’ll have your dinner on the table in no time. Now go on, tell me what you’re going to call the company!”
“Well, I’ve been studying on that all the way home. We talked about a few different things. Someone suggested Tillman Delivery, but I don’t feel right taking all the credit.”
In truth, Harold was the one to suggest the name. Debarge never said a word, but a deep frown curled his heavy lips down, giving him the appearance of a bulldog. Harold quickly discounted his own idea, pretending modesty. The two other men made their own suggestions, leaning favorably toward Kingdom Parcel. They stopped short of writing the name on the paperwork. Pascal Galano made a big show of insisting that Harold take the evening to decide on the final name, but for the rest of the meeting, the venture was referred to as Kingdom.
“So whatever will you call it?” Nell asked over her shoulder. She bent to take the roast from the oven. It was a small, stringy cut of beef, but she kept it simmering all afternoon in broth to make it tender. With a few root vegetables thrown in and a pan of cornbread, there would be plenty for Harold, and enough for her. And if he asked for a third helping, she could always fill up on pie.
“I kind of like the sound of Kingdom Parcel.” He said the name with reverence as he slid a bony hand across the air, painting the empty space with the words. “Sounds official, don’t you think? And since we’ll be catering to the Northeast Kingdom, might as well have it as part of the name.”
“Oh, how clever! I think it’s just perfect.”
Nell hurried to get his plate and utensils, setting them before him as she praised his creative thinking. The name was just so clever, and quite catchy, as well. She brought him a tall glass of milk, then tucked his cloth napkin into his shirt collar, exactly the way he liked it. Only after she brought the meal to the table and filled his plate with generous portions did she go back to the kitchen for her own place setting.
“So tell me about your business partners,” she urged. “Would you like more butter? How about some sweet pickles? I think I have a jar open in the icebox.”
“Sit still, woman, so I can tell you about my day. You’re making me dizzy, hopping back and forth like a rabbit. Although some maple syrup would be right nice on this cornbread.” He stuffed a large chunk of roasted potato into his mouth, even though he had not yet swallowed his meat.
“Talk loud enough that I can hear,” Nell cautioned as she hurried into the kitchen to fetch the syrup. “What is it that Mr. Debarge and Mr. Galano do?”
She missed the scowl that marred her husband’s long face. As he fished around on his plate to spear an onion, he sounded more confident than he looked. “Debarge is in investments. He’s the moneyman behind our venture. I think Galano is some sort of salesman. He kept talking about clients and shipments, like we already have the accounts. I suppose he’s bringing his best customers with him.”
“Oh, that’s a wonderful idea! And a good start for your business, don’t you think?” She unscrewed the lid on the syrup, handed the jar to him, and slid back into her chair. She dished out seconds for Harold, before she had even taken a bite of her own meal.
“Without a doubt,” he agreed, holding his plate out. “Is that all the roast that is left? You did a mighty fine job on it. Don’t rightly know if I want someone else cooking my meals, or not!”
Nell glowed beneath his praise. He was in a fine mood tonight, a fine mood.
“Here, have some of mine, too. I didn’t realize my piece was so big. I could never eat all that!” She sawed off a tiny sliver to save for herself, then raked the larger portion onto his plate. “I may be too excited to eat a single bite!”
“In that case, dish me up the last of the potatoes. A few more carrots, too, if you don’t mind.”
“Might as well finish off the onions, as well. That way I don’t have to worry with leftovers.” She smiled as she dished out the last of the vegetables. “When will you be up and running?”
“We’re going over to St. Johnsbury tomorrow, to look for a delivery truck.”
“That soon?”
“These fellas don’t believe in wasting time. They say the sooner we get started, the sooner we can start making our fortunes.”
“So explain to me how it will all work.”
“Well, basically we’ll take the deliveries the other companies don’t want. Those brown trucks can’t make much money, wandering round all day through these woods and mountains for just one or two boxes. Their money is in town, where they can go door-to-door and be done with it.”
Nell worried over his words while he chomped noisily on his meal. She finally ventured to ask, “Won’t it be the same for Kingdom Parcel?”
“You forget. I know all the back roads.” He winked at her in confidence. “Plus, I know half the folks from Brownington to Barre. If nothing else, I can track them down in town or leave the package with their mamas.”
She pursed her lips. “I suppose.”
“You’ll see. Once our name gets out there, we’ll give the brown trucks and the US Postal Service a real run for their money! Don’t believe all that nonsense about sleet and snow not stopping the post office. You know what winters can be like up here; mud season is even worse. But who’s the best driver you know? Who can drive in blame near blizzard conditions? And who knows these highlands like the back of his hand?”
“You, Harry.”
“Darn tootin’. That’s why I’ll be the main driver. Course, once we branch out and get more trucks, I’ll share the load with drivers I train myself. But till then, the deliveries will be up to me.”
“President and driver? Why, you’ll be practically running the entire operation!”
Harold gave a nonchalant shrug, but his voice rang with pleasure. “Well, it was my idea. I’m the brains behind the business, you might say.”
“What about the others? Will they have a hand in the day-to-day operations?”
Harold shoveled the last of the roast into his mouth and nodded. “Debarge will take care of the bookkeeping. Galano will be in charge of sales. His niece is going to be secretary and dispatcher. We even went to look at a warehouse today. Remember that old fertilizer plant over in Irasburg? It will be just right for us. Plenty big for the offices and shipping yard.”
“I am so proud of you, Harold! I just know this is the start of something big!”
“I think you’re right, Nellie.” His eyes glowed with rare enthusiasm. “I think Kingdom Parcel is going to change our entire lives.”
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