Walking up the wide stairway of the new library, Charlie smiled at how beautifully the light streamed in from the skylights. The small partitioned reading nooks would be cozy spots for the children of Red Bone. Charlie heard the crackling footsteps and muffled voices of the roofers overhead.
He sat on one of the low benches, which would eventually have padded seats, and looked around, imagining the final result. He thought about Natty’s daughter, Cat, the tiny girl with the long, silky blond hair, who was always paging through a picture book whenever he saw her. Cat will love this spot, up on the top floor of the library. It’ll be her special place … like Natty’s boulder. Charlie closed his eyes. He ached to hold the little girl in his lap and read Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, The Dragons of Blueland, and The Indian in the Cupboard to her, as he’d done with his own children long ago.
He heard a creaking sound on the stairway, and a backward Yankees cap appeared. The boy turned and saw Charlie smiling at him. Pie climbed the last step and jumped in front of Charlie, both palms raised for a high-five. Charlie laughed as he raised his hands to the boy. “Hello, Pie Man,” Charlie said. “I’ve missed you.”
Still holding Charlie’s hands, Pie said, “I went to your office, but they say Charlie gone to New York.”
Charlie let go of the boy’s hands and knocked his cap down over his eyes. “I’m going to New York tonight. C’mon, Pie Man, sit down,” he said. “Tell me about school and the soccer team. I understand the Bones are going to a tournament in Charleston.”
Pie sat next to Charlie, but he had something else he wanted to talk about. “Charlie?” he asked in a small voice. “Will you tell me the story about you and my papa cutting down the big tree?” Charlie smiled and nodded, as the boy, wide-eyed with anticipation, folded his legs underneath him on the bench.
“Your dad and I were out in the woods, way down where some of the trees are over two hundred years old. We were cutting trees with two lumberjacks named Frenchy and Dogface, two of the best loggers around,” said Charlie, beginning the story that Pie would cherish for the rest of his life.
CHAPTER 30
The bus was unlike anything Natty had ever ridden on. It was purple and silver with dark-tinted windows, and it towered over the road as it pulled out of the Red Bone Baptist Church parking lot. A five-hour trip would get them to the motel in Pennsylvania, then another five-hour drive on Friday morning would bring them to New York. Natty was anxious about the trip, but a free weekend in New York, with two nights in a hotel and a ticket to Les Misérables, was too good to pass up.
She felt uncomfortable about leaving the kids—she’d never been away from them overnight, except for her hospital stay—and she was uneasy about missing her patients on Friday. But the real cause of the gnawing in her stomach was Charlie Burden. He was definitely going to be in New York now, and they even had a kind of date set up, didn’t they? And if anything was ever going to happen between them, she had a strong feeling that it would have to happen this weekend.
Mabel Willard put a soft hand over Natty’s, positioned on the armrest between them. “You okay, girl?” she asked, sensing Natty’s unease.
“Ain’t even out of Red Bone, and I’m already homesick,” she said with a laugh. “Ain’t been out of West Virginia since high school.”
Mabel patted Natty’s hand. “Been a long time for me, too,” she said. “Twelve years. Since Lorena was havin’ her troubles, and I had to go up to Detroit and bring the boys home.”
Natty squeezed Mabel’s hand. “I remember. I was pregnant with Pie when Lorena died.” Natty recalled Mabel’s beautiful, talented daughter, two years ahead of her in school. She was so self-confident and ready for the world, she couldn’t wait to leave McDowell County to seek her fortune in the big city. A year later, she was living in a Detroit tenement, the mother of twin boys, and a year after that she was dead from an overdose.
“Took those babies away from that awful man, one in each arm, and took the bus back down here.” They were quiet for a few minutes, each woman lost in her thoughts.
“Mabel?” Natty whispered. “Do you still miss her … after all these years? I mean, do you think about her a lot?”
Mabel sighed. “Zack and Sammy are a handful, but, yeah,” Mabel’s voice cracked, “I think about Lorena every day, first thing when I get up in the morning, last thing at night. Mother never stops missin’ her child.”
After a few moments, Natty said, “How about a father? Think they miss their kids like that?”
Mabel sniffed and straightened up a little in her seat. “Well, men are scum, o’ course, so they don’t miss nothin’ for too long but their drinks and their pussy and their TV sets.” Both women burst out laughing.
Then Mabel lowered her voice to make sure no one could overhear. “But, child, if you’re asking me what I think you’re asking me, well, then, I’m going to tell you one time and then zip up my fat mouth forever. Whatever you end up doin’, ain’t no one in McDowell County, including myself, will ever say you shouldn’ta done whatever you chose to do. ’Cause, child, you earned that right. Losin’ your daddy, and then little Annie, bless her soul, and raisin’ them kids by yourself, helpin’ so many people all these years—my God, child. You earned the right to finally, one time in your life, do somethin’ just for yourself and for them children!” Mabel looked up to see if anyone had overheard. Satisfied, she continued in a lower voice. “Now, you know Buck was never one of my favorites. Never could warm up to the boy or his daddy. And then he went and took advantage of you—”
Natty laughed and shook Mabel’s arm. “Wasn’t quite the way it was, Mabel. That was as much my doin’ as it was Buck’s.”
“I know, child. You was in love,” Mabel said, with an angry scowl. “And you was still in love the night he beat you and put you in the hospital for two weeks, when you couldn’t eat solid food for a month.” Mabel stopped abruptly and took a deep breath.
Natty rubbed the black woman’s forearm. “That was just one time, Mabel. ’Cause of his drinking.”
“That kinda thing ain’t never a one time. Seen enough bruised women in my time to know,” said Mabel.
Natty didn’t argue. She already knew Mabel’s opinion of Buck. After a long pause, Natty stretched her eyebrows up to look into Mabel’s huge brown eyes. “So what should I do, Mabel?”
“Natty, child, you got to do what your heart tells you to, without caring about what Buck thinks, ’cause he don’t deserve one more second of you feeling guilty about what happens to him.” Mabel squeezed Natty’s hand in both of hers as she looked past her out the big window.
“Charlie’s a good man, Nat. Seen that first time I met him, on the porch in front of the store. And I seen Charlie was already moonin’ over you like you was a couple of high school kids. The way he was watchin’ you, and the look in his eye. He was a goner!”
They both giggled, and Natty pushed the black woman’s arm playfully. “Go on, Mabel, you don’t know nothin’ of the sort.”
“I knows what I knows,” Mabel said quietly, “and that man loves you and them children, so it’s all up to you, child, to make something out of it or don’t.”
“I think you’re bein’ a little overly romantic, Mabel,” Natty said, half to herself. She turned toward the window. Mabel crossed her arms and rolled her head away to try to nap.
Natty gazed out the window, unaware of the scenery passing by as the bus struggled with the narrow road to the highway. In her mind, she saw Charlie standing next to the Lexus, as she put her arms on top of the car. She heard him say it again—the L word. Said it twice, in fact. Natty smiled and let the warmth of that moment, the sound of Charlie’s voice, engulf her once again. The first time in her life any man had said he loved her—least one not pantin’ and humpin’ up a hot sweat in the back of Buck’s daddy’s Blazer.
* * *
THEY WERE NOW on the highway and the bus sped along, headed for Pennsylvania and the motel and, tomorrow, for New York Cit
y. And then what? After they checked in to the hotel, they would go on a bus tour and then to dinner at the fancy restaurant in Central Park.
Natty thought about the new-dark-blue warm-up suit she’d bought in Bluefield. She didn’t want to look like a hick when they went running in New York. After their run, she would get her hair done, before the matinee. She felt her front pants pocket, where she’d tucked a small wad of money.
They had an extra ticket to Les Misérables, which they all agreed Natty would offer to Charlie. After the play, that would be their time. Maybe they’d have dinner. Natty smiled as she thought about the short black dress with the matching jacket she’d bought for the occasion and the silver high heels she’d borrowed from Sally. Shit, I hope I can walk in them. Natty tried to remember the last time she’d worn high heels.
She swallowed hard. So if something were to happen between them, it would be Saturday night. Charlie had already told her how he felt, so now it was up to her. She knew that this might be her last chance, because Charlie wouldn’t be in West Virginia much longer. She sensed that he could be gone right after the Redemption Mountain hearing. Ten days, then Charlie might be gone, with nothing resolved, the opportunity gone, all the affection and feelings between them adding up to nothing. Not even a kiss, unless you count that cheap little peck when he was in the hospital. This weekend would be different.
* * *
THE FINAL LEG of the trip, as the bus passed through the Holland Tunnel and into Manhattan, was a blur. As it moved up Eighth Avenue, the buildings got taller and the noise louder. Soon they were surrounded by a sea of yellow taxis, all moving too fast and blowing their horns.
The bus came to a stop on the corner of West 45th Street, in front of the Milford Plaza. After the group claimed their luggage on the sidewalk, the travel agent led them into the hotel lobby jammed with tourists, where they waited to check in and get their room keys.
Natty and Mabel laughed when they opened the door to their room and saw how tiny it was. They laughed again when they saw the room rates posted on the door of the closet—and this was one of the cheaper hotels in New York! They unpacked and, with an hour to spare before their bus tour departed, they talked Ada and Emma’s mother, Janice Lowe, into going out to find Times Square.
They were lost immediately. After a couple of blocks, they dug out the little map the travel agent had distributed, and after turning around several times while looking up at the street signs, they figured out which direction to go. At the Disney Store, Natty gawked at the price tag but bought a Mickey Mouse I LOVE NEW YORK T-shirt for Cat and a Yankees shirt for Pie. Stuffing her money back in her front pocket, she wondered if she’d have enough left to get her hair done.
When they found Broadway, they stopped to watch the street shows, a juggler, a rock ’n’ roll duo, and three black teenagers break dancing. The music, combined with the roar of buses and trucks, produced a sound unlike anything the women had heard before. The aroma of sausage, onions, and fresh coffee drifting through the air reminded them of their hunger. As they passed several small restaurants, Mabel and Ada examined the posted menus and rolled their eyes at the prices.
On their way to the hotel, Natty pulled her three friends into Starbucks, where they bought the smallest coffee available. They found a table at a window and watched the passing parade. Then, mindful of the time, they headed back so they wouldn’t miss the tour bus. They would have some sorely needed nap time later, before dinner at Tavern on the Green, a very special treat, the travel agent said, courtesy of Charlie Burden.
* * *
THE OLD ELEVATOR in the DD&M building moved slowly. Charlie figured he could’ve run up the six flights in the time it took. But he was in no hurry today. This was one meeting he wasn’t looking forward to. His fears were confirmed when he glanced into the boardroom. He couldn’t identify everyone, but there were too many people for a simple projects meeting. He saw Summers and Tuthill, and a couple of other DD&M executive committee members who were in Warren Brand’s cabal. They had no real reason to be at a meeting about OntAmex business. So the meeting would be about something else.
Charlie strode purposefully down the hall. He wanted to see Lucien before he stepped into the wolves’ den. His friend looked old and tired, seated in one of the black leather chairs in his office. “Hello, Charlie,” he said without rising. Standing at the dry bar was Charlie’s old golfing pal, Mal Berman, counsel to DD&M and Lucien’s personal lawyer.
“Hello, Charlie,” Berman said warmly.
Lucien spoke up. “It’s over, Charlie. Brand’s got the votes to take over.”
Charlie sat down hard, surprised. “How could they vote? I’m on the executive committee!”
“Didn’t need you, Charlie,” responded Berman. “Had a solid majority. Called an emergency session on the grounds that an important client needed to address the committee on short notice.”
“That’s horseshit, and you know it. They can’t do that!”
“They can,” said Lucien, “and they did.”
“They’ve got the votes, Charlie, that’s the important thing,” said Berman.
Charlie was quiet for a few moments, thinking. Things were moving awfully quickly.
Lucien offered Charlie a cigar, which he declined. “Torkelson made it happen, Charlie. He, Tuthill, and Brand visited a few board members in person and called the others by phone. They reviewed the size of the revenue stream that the current OntAmex projects provide for DD&M and gave them a preview of all the new business they would direct DD&M’s way over the next ten years—hydroelectrics in Canada, half a dozen gas and coal plants, a new plant in Mexico … You know the numbers.”
“Billions, if he can deliver them all,” said Charlie.
“And the immediate payoff—huge bonuses from the sale of the building.”
“Minus Torkelson and Tuthill’s take,” added Charlie.
“Never be able to prove that part. They’re too clever by far,” said Lucien.
Berman added, “Some of these guys will double their net worth in six months, plus there’s the promise of an extremely profitable company for the rest of their careers.”
“Pretty hard to pass up,” said Charlie.
“Torkelson did a good job,” said Lucien somberly. He waved his cigar at Charlie with a laugh. “You’re half responsible for this, Charlie, that great job you’re doing in West Virginia. With that Redemption Mountain coal, OntAmex will have the most efficient large-scale generator in North America. That’s significant—to OntAmex, Wall Street, and the politicians.”
“Which all helps the stock price,” Berman interjected, “and makes the merger with Continental Electric a better deal all around.”
“When you’re flying as high as Torkelson, you have a lot of leverage,” said Lucien, “and he’s using it to take control of DD&M. Sure, Brand will sit in this office, but Torkelson’ll be calling the shots.” Lucien looked across the room to the picture of his father on the wall.
“Don’t know what they have planned for you, Charlie,” admitted Lucien. “Brand knows you’re too smart for him, but he also knows you’re close to Duncan. That’s a problem.”
Charlie smiled as he stood to leave for the boardroom. “That’s a problem I’m not going to solve for him.” He shook hands with his two old friends. “I’ll let you know what happens.”
* * *
SOME OF THE men in the boardroom were having cocktails and had loosened their ties when Charlie finally made his appearance, thirty minutes late. He shook hands with Larry Tuthill, but he didn’t bother to greet Warren Brand. He nodded to Terry Summers and took a vacant seat not far from the door. In the corner of the room was a secretary to record the minutes.
When everyone was seated, Warren Brand moved to his chair at the middle of the table. He stared at some notes in front of him before looking over at Charlie. “Thanks for coming in,” he said. “This won’t take long. You’ve met with Lucien,” he continued, “so you know what’s happening
here. The executive committee met in emergency session this afternoon, and, as of December, I will be managing partner and Lucien will be leaving the company—with an excellent package.”
Charlie’s blood was boiling, but he sat calmly. Short of diving across the table and taking out some of Brand’s cosmetically perfected front teeth, there was nothing to be gained from this meeting. Any grievance he had would have to become a legal issue.
“As for your own status,” Brand smiled, “you’ll be off the exec, but we do have some great news for you.” He gestured toward Larry Tuthill. “Due to Larry’s personal recommendation, we’d like you to wrap things up in West Virginia over the next few weeks, hand the project off to Summers, and then,” he paused dramatically, “we’re going to give you what you wanted back in the spring: You’ll take over the second dam project in China.”
Charlie stared blankly at Brand while he digested this new twist. He had to admit, he was surprised. Finally, he had to smile, forcing himself not to burst out laughing. China! That’s perfect. Brand gets him off the board and out of the country, and Torkelson gets him a world away from the OntAmex business and away from Duncan McCord.
“Okay, Warren,” he said, looking at his watch. “I’ve got some things to finish up in Red Bone. Then I’ll think about China.” Charlie stood up. “But before I leave, I’ve gotta tell you guys what you’ve done here today.” He looked around at the other executive committee members. “Not Warren. This isn’t new to him. He’s always been a backbiting slug, whose only talent in this business was to find the right asshole to crawl up.”
Brand closed his notebook abruptly and stood up.
Charlie ignored him. “Now he’s Torkelson’s butt boy, and you guys are turning this company over to them. It’s the beginning of the end.” Charlie put his hands in his pockets and looked around the table. “You’ve insulted and embarrassed Dietrich Delahunt and Mackey’s greatest asset, the man who built this company.” Charlie shook his head in disgust. “What were you guys thinking?”
Redemption Mountain Page 39