“Yes, but barely. If we get many more shareholder complaints, we’ll need to find other money to cover this. And that would need to go in front of the trustees.”
Harry groaned. “Keep me apprised of the situation, okay?”
Jacobs rose from his chair.” I will. You’ll be the first to know.”
*****
Harry spent several hours reviewing company profiles drafted by his portfolio analysts. He tried to focus on the material, but his mind kept wandering to the challenges he was facing: Jeremy’s illness, the SEC investigation, Nora.
He wasn’t looking forward to meeting her later in the day. But he had to get her to understand. He had to make her realize that his family needed to be the priority right now. He wasn’t feeling confident.
At 11am, his phone rang. It was Kaspar’s admin, Lucy Weinstein.
“Harry, Kaspar told me to call you. He just got a call from the SEC. They will be back here tomorrow morning at 9am.” She lowered her voice. “Kaspar is ready to blow his top. Just wanted to warn you.”
“Thanks for the heads up, Lucy. I’ll do my best to avoid him for the rest of the day.” Harry hung up the phone.
Great, he thought, just great.
*****
At 5pm, Harry headed out to meet Nora at Darby’s. The wind whipped down Franklin Street, as if trying to hold him back. Nature seemed to have an unspoken desire to keep him from his destination.
When he pulled open the restaurant’s door, he saw Nora sitting at one of the tables to the left of the bar. She waved him over.
“Hi Harry.” She didn’t seem her usual ebullient self.
Harry sat on the stool across from her. He wasn’t sure how to begin the conversation. A petite waitress came over and asked what he would like to drink. ”I’ll have a scotch on the rocks,” Harry replied. When the waitress walked away, Harry decided just to say what he needed to say.
“Nora, you mean a lot to me.”
“You mean a lot to me too, Harry,” She reached out and grabbed his hand. “Actually, you mean more than you know.”
Harry took a deep breath. “Nora, we got some bad news yesterday. Jeremy is very ill. He was diagnosed with leukemia. The doctor told us it’s a type that’s difficult to treat. Sandy and I are dealing with this as best we can. We need to support Jeremy in every way possible.”
Nora looked shocked, and she immediately grew pale. “Harry, I’m so sorry. What can I do to help?”
Harry shook his head. “There’s nothing you can do. Sandy and I need to work on this together.” He left it unstated, but he hoped that Nora grasped his message.
“I see. Does this mean we can’t see each other?” Nora’s eyes grew darker as the moments passed.
Harry nodded. “I need to focus on Jeremy right now.”
“And Sandy. Do you need to focus on her too?” Nora’s voice had an edge that Harry hadn’t heard before.
“We’re a family, Nora. Jeremy needs his mother as much as he needs me. I can’t be doing anything that might cause discord in our home.”
“I thought I meant something to you, Harry. Isn’t that what you told me? Isn’t it?” Nora’s voice had become shrill.
This was going worse than he expected. “Look, Nora. I can’t control what’s happening right now. And Jeremy needs me.” He knew it sounded lame but he couldn’t offer any other argument.
“Fine, Harry.” Nora got up noisily from her chair. “I guess I’ll see you around the office.” She stormed out of the bar. The waitress brought over Harry’s drink. “Do you still want this?” she asked.
“Yeah,” said Harry. He tossed the drink down in one gulp. “And bring me another. Please.”
Shit, he thought. What a mess.
*****
Harry got home around 6:30pm. Sandy was sitting on the couch in the family room with Jeremy curled up next to her. His head was in her lap, and he was sound asleep.
Sandy put her finger to her lips. “Shhh, he just fell asleep.”
Harry squeezed her shoulder. “How was your day?”
Sandy looked up, her eyes brimming with tears. One slowly rolled down her left cheek. “This is so hard, Harry. I’m trying to act normal for Jeremy’s sake, and I’m trying to not let on to anyone, including my sister, what has happened. It’s really hard. I’m not sure how long I can keep this up.”
“I know. I’m struggling, too.” Harry sat in the wingback chair across from her. He looked at his son, sleeping peacefully, unaware of the turmoil and pain his illness had caused. “Did you schedule Jeremy’s treatment?”
“Yes. I called Dr. Snow’s office first thing this morning. They want Jeremy to be there tomorrow at 9am. I also spoke with the vice principal at his school. She was shocked, of course, and told me that the school would do everything they could to help Jeremy with alternate study arrangements. I thanked her, but asked her to keep the news quiet until we had a few more days to deal with the situation. She agreed she would only tell Jeremy’s teacher and Mrs. Collins, the principal. They’ll keep it confidential.”
“That’s good. I’m sure everyone will be as supportive as possible. No one would want to be in this situation.” Harry kicked off his shoes and rubbed the arch of his foot. He thought he might have strained something during his jog that morning. “How about the adoption agency? Were you able to find Sister Catherine Margaret?”
“I spoke with the current head administrator, Sister Marie Rose. She told me that Sister Catherine is retired and living in a rest home in Cohasset. She said that the Sister’s hearing is poor, but her mind is still sharp. The rest home allows visitors after 1pm.”
“That’s good to know. Did you tell her about Jeremy’s situation?”
“I explained only that he had a medical problem that may be helped if we could contact the birth mother. She understood, but she has to stand by their privacy policy. However, there’s a bigger problem. She told me that a fire in their file room a couple of years ago destroyed several years of adoption records. She wasn’t sure, but said it’s possible that Jeremy’s adoption record may have been lost.”
Harry groaned. “That’s unbelievable. What else can go wrong?”
Sandy was softly rubbing her hand through Jeremy’s hair. He felt compassion and love for his son, but he was angry too, about undeserved consequences. Harry and his family had lived for a long time with the proverbial silver spoon in their mouths. He wondered if this was payback for so many years of comfortable living.
“Sister Marie Rose said she would research the adoption record situation and call me back tomorrow. But even if she has the records, she will need permission from the birth mother to divulge a name. At that point, I told her this was a life or death situation for our son. That made her pause, and I think she realized the gravity of the problem. I hope she will help us.”
Harry sighed deeply. “Me too.”
Chapter 30
Thursday, November 6
Harry decided to work from home the next day, even though he knew the timing was awful. The SEC investigative team was expected that morning, and he should be there to ensure “cooperation with restraint.”
That was a term he had coined with the management team.
He hoped to bring consistency to the way that the staff interacted with the government agency. He worried that the wrong person might say something inappropriate to the regulators that would set off a firestorm and result in pressure being ratcheted even higher.
However, despite what was happening in the office, Harry knew he couldn’t delay his visit to Sister Catherine Margaret at the nursing home. The facility was about an hour’s drive from Wayland. It didn’t make sense to go into the office for only a couple of hours. And he knew if he did, he doubted he would get away.
Harry turned on his laptop to access his emails. After booting up, he saw that he had received two full pages of emails since he left the office yesterday. He scrolled through the unread ones and saw Nora’s name on the second email from the b
ottom. It was sent at 9pm the prior night. He opened it.
Harry read quickly.
“Please don’t hate me, Harry, I behaved badly and shouldn’t have stormed off. You’re in a difficult situation, and you can’t be with me right now. I understand that. You’re not telling me that you don’t care for me, but you need to be there for Jeremy. I’ll be patient because I know you’re my ‘one and only’. Love, Nora.”
Harry stared at the screen. Nora didn’t understand at all. She thought this was only a temporary interruption in their relationship. He had the chilling realization that he didn’t know what else to do.
*****
Harry left the house at noon. It would take about an hour to reach the Sisters of Charity Convalescence Home in Cohasset.
Sandy had called an hour earlier to update Harry on Jeremy’s status at the hospital.
Their son was being a trooper, so far; he was being poked and prodded by numerous doctors and nurses, but he was handling it fairly well. Harry was glad to hear that. Dealing with Jeremy was difficult when he shut down and refused to cooperate.
He drove as quickly as the highway traffic would allow, and he arrived in Cohasset just after 1pm. He followed the directions that he had been provided on the nursing home’s website. As Harry drove through the picturesque seaside town, he saw many homes that overlooked the tranquil ocean, decorated with wide verandas or a widow’s walk lookout on the upper level where a ship captain’s wife would wait for her husband’s return a century earlier.
During the drive, Harry had tried to think of new ways to extract himself from his relationship with Nora, but he couldn’t come up with any ideas. He knew that he’d have to meet with her again.
Pulling into the parking lot, he grabbed one of the spots designated for visitors. The home was two stories tall. Weathered Cape Cod-style clapboards covered the exterior of the building. Harry made his way to the front desk.
The young receptionist put down her cellphone and looked up expectantly. “Can I help you?”
“Yes. I’m here to see Sister Catherine Margaret Morse. Can you direct me to her room?”
“Sure thing. She’s in 2C.” The girl pointed to her left. “If you take the elevator that’s just around the corner over there, 2C will be the third room to your left when you get off.”
Harry thanked her and followed her instructions. When he reached his destination, he knocked softly on the partially open door.
“Please come in,” a querulous voice commanded from the far side of the room. “I won’t bite.”
Harry entered the room and walked to the bed closest to the window. Muted sunlight filtered through yellow curtains and warmed the room. Sitting there, propped up by several pillows, was the nun that he and Sandy had met twelve years earlier. Harry was shocked to see how much she had aged.
I must look considerably older too, he thought.
“Sister? I’m sure you don’t remember me, but my wife and I adopted our son from Sister of Charities. It was about twelve years ago.”
“Tell me your name?”
“Harry Wainright. My wife Sandy and I adopted a baby boy. We named him Jeremy.”
“Jeremy, Jeremy…” the sister responded. A light seemed to click on in her eyes. “The Wainrights! Of course, I remember you now. Sorry, the old noggin’ is not what it used to be. It can take a while for the cobwebs to clear. How is your wife? And your son, Jeremy?” She patted the edge of the bed so that Harry would sit down. “Come closer so I can hear you better.”
Harry sat down. “Sandy is fine. She asked me to say hello. But Jeremy is the reason that I’m here.”
“He must be growing so fast. How old is he now, eleven or twelve?”
“He turned twelve about a week ago. He’s a great kid, and we have been so happy to have him.”
“That’s wonderful. I’m always so glad to hear from families that the adoption has worked out. Occasionally they don’t.”
“Unfortunately, we just received some bad news. Jeremy has been diagnosed with leukemia.”
“Oh my, that’s so awful!” Sister Catherine Margaret exclaimed. She raised her hands to her wizened cheeks. “I’m so sorry to hear that.”
Harry nodded. “Sandy and I have been in a state of shock since we learned about his diagnosis. The doctor has explained the treatment options to us, and the best solution requires a bone marrow transplant from a related donor.”
“Ah, I see. You want to find Jeremy’s birth mother to see if she can help. That’s perfectly understandable.”
Harry realized that Sister Catherine Margaret was still very sharp.
“We do,” Harry agreed. “But we learned that there was a fire in the storage room where your agency kept the adoption records. Jeremy’s records may have been among the ones that were lost.”
“That’s true. It was most unfortunate. The fire department called it arson, which is even more inexplicable. If it wasn’t for a sprinkler system that was installed just before the fire, the damage would have been much worse.” Sister Catherine paused briefly, trying to remember the event with greater clarity. “That fire happened the year that I retired. It made no sense. Who would want to destroy our adoption records?”
Harry agreed. “That doesn’t make sense. I came here hoping that you could tell me something about the birth mother that might help us to find her. When she learns about Jeremy’s diagnosis, I’m sure she will help.”
“Let me try to remember. She was a lovely young girl, I do recall that. She wasn’t the typical unwed mother. She was getting divorced, and had decided that she wouldn’t be able to care for the child. I could tell she was very conflicted about giving the baby up, but she believed it would be best for both of them at that point in her life. I actually tried to convince her otherwise, but her mind was made up.”
Harry held his breath. “Do you remember her name?”
“Oh, dear, I’m afraid I don’t. That doesn’t help you very much, does it?”
Harry was disappointed. “No, without her name, it will be impossible to find her. Is there anything else you can remember?”
“I believe her family lived in Connecticut. Just her mother though. Her father passed away when she was a young girl.”
Harry pressed further. “Nothing else?”
“Well…” the Sister paused, deep in thought. Then her eyes lit up. “Why yes, there is one other thing. The girl had an unusual birthmark on her shoulder. It was small, but in the shape of a perfect little butterfly, with wings and antennae. It was most remarkable. I only remember it because of a conversation we had during one of her appointments. I told her that I spent summers as a small girl on Block Island, and how I loved to chase butterflies, and fireflies, and grasshoppers. Anything that I could catch. She told me that she didn’t have to chase butterflies because one was always with her. That’s when she showed me her birthmark.”
Harry tried to hide his disappointment. “Is that it, Sister? A birthmark?”
Sister Catherine Margaret nodded her head sadly. “I realize it’s not much to go on. But when you think you’ve found her, the butterfly will confirm it. I can’t believe there are two like that in the whole world.”
Harry rose to leave. “Thank you for your time, Sister. I appreciate it.”
The Sister held out her hand. “Please give my best to Sandy and Jeremy. I will say a prayer for all of you, to have the strength to get through this. God will be there when you need Him.”
Harry nodded, and left the room.
Maybe I should try praying too, he thought. Nothing else has worked so far.
Chapter 31
Thursday, November 6
Jerry Haskins was livid. He knew that Harry suspected he was involved in leaking the story to the press about the SEC’s investigation of Jordano.
And frankly, he was bullshit that he was the only one under suspicion.
His partner, the person that put this whole scheme together, was in the shadows, safely hidden from everyone.
>
It’s time I got a little more for my trouble, Jerry thought.
He entered the Italian-American Bar on First Street. He stopped just inside the door to let his eyes adjust to the dim light that managed to escape the grime-encrusted florescent lights that hung from the ceiling. The small dirty windows that fronted the street added little more illumination.
Years ago, at this time of day, the IA Bar would have been three deep with dock and construction workers, happy to spend their pay on dollar drafts. But the customers sitting at the bar today could drink in private—there was no one nudging their shoulders to get a refill.
Jerry peered through the filmy haze that permeated the bar. He looked towards the back, and recognized the silhouette of his partner sitting in the farthest booth, looking up at the flat screen TV that hung over the bar. NESN was showing a replay of the Bruins-Canadiens playoff series from last year. Jerry made his way in that direction, calling out to the bartender to bring him a Bud.
“Hey,” Jerry said as he fell into the seat across from the other man. “That was a great playoff series. Too bad the Bruins lost in the seventh game.”
“Yeah the B’s blew it. Up two goals going into the third period.” The man’s gaze fell on Jerry as he took a sip from his Jameson’s. “Why’d you want to get together, Haskins? I told you we need to avoid contact while things are hot. I don’t need any talk about you and me floating around the firm.”
“That’s why I suggested meeting here. It’s out of the way and not the type of place that our high-brow co-workers would frequent. Besides, there is something that I wanted to tell you. Last week, I stopped in at Darby’s for a beer after work. I noticed our favorite portfolio manager, Harry Wainright, in one of those circular booths with a certain young female. And it wasn’t his wife.”
“How interesting. You going to tell me who it was?” the man growled.
Jerry looked uncertain. He took a deep breath. “Before I do that, we need to discuss our arrangement. I’m the one that’s out front, taking all the risks. I’m worried about being discovered – Harry doesn’t suspect you at all. We know he doesn’t like me. I deserve something extra for my efforts.” Jerry stopped talking before his voice started to waver. The saliva was building up in his mouth. He swallowed quickly.
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