Preston then described the detailed turnaround plan Joe drew up, the meeting in Charlotte where he and Casey were not allowed to say a word, not even gesture.
“You kept quiet the entire meeting?”
“You had to be there. The bank’s lawyers were attacking us like crazy, and it sounded like we had no defense. For the first time in my life, I was not in control, and I knew it. Also, you had to see Joe, the way he responded to the attacks, the way he reasoned with the bank, brought out errors on their part, the whole thing.
“But Marcia, he really had faith in me.” He swallowed around a lump forming in his throat. Other than Marcia, no one had ever shown that faith in him. “He gave the bank his word that I would keep mine.”
He described the moment when Joe had asked him to speak to the bank, how he had no idea what he would say, what he should say. How he went to the window and looked down, and it came to him. He described as best he could what he told the bank.
“I don’t remember what I said exactly, but I know it was the absolute truth. I told how I felt, how I had screwed up and knew it, and that I knew what I needed to do to fix it. I came right out and told them that I was afraid to fail, and that I was not going to, that they could count on it. I remember how clear it seemed to me at that point.”
After they finished dinner, they carried the dishes to the kitchen, and, for the first time in their married life, washed the dishes together, Preston talking the whole time. They made coffee, strolled to the living room, sat on the floor before the low table in front of the sofa. He told her about Joe directing him to give 15 percent of Wilson Holdings to Casey, and another 15 percent to Alex.
Marcia’s eyes grew wide.
“You gave 30 percent of your company away?”
“I did. Seventy percent of something is better than 100 percent of nothing,” he echoed Joe. He explained what the new success meant to Marcia and to him, his eyes tearing up as he spoke.
He told Marcia about the phone call from Joe asking him to fly to Marsh Harbour, that Joe wanted to talk to him. How he flew there, spent time with Joe on his boat. He told Marcia in detail about their conversation that night.
After several hours of discussion, Preston realized he’d talked too long. “Are you tired? You just got home. Do you want to rest?”
“Not on your life. Keep talking. Forgive me, but you’ve never been this open . . . this vulnerable.”
Encouraged by Marcia’s enthusiasm, Preston went on, explaining how horrified he was at the thought of taking responsibility for Joe’s ‘collectibles.’ He thought Joe was crazy to ask him to look after these people who had become so important in his life. It still puzzled him somewhat.
Preston stood up and wandered around the room, fired by the enthusiasm he already had for his new friends. He told Marcia about Missy, about Johnny, Tommy and Corey. He told her how worried he was about what he would say to her, to Marcia, what they would have to talk about. He had been such an ass where Marcia was concerned.
He described going to dinner with Tommy, what a character he was, how he got a phone call from Missy, how her ex-husband had beaten her up because of seeing her talking with Preston. How Tommy went to Missy’s apartment to make sure she was okay, and how Tommy told him that night she wouldn’t have to worry anymore. How he was glad to hear that, but also afraid that he could somehow be drawn into whatever would happen. He talked about shooting craps, the cigars.
“You shot craps in Vegas,” she said, “and smoked cigars? Are you sure you’re my husband?”
Preston gave her a kiss on the cheek and went on. Told her about his trip to San Francisco. What he was feeling when he called her from there, how glad he was to hear her voice. His trip to Braydon, how stupid he was to have thought of Braydon as some hick town. He described its beauty: the trees, the streets, the architecture, the flowers, and most of all, the people. He recounted his time with Alice, going to the Home Dairy and meeting Johnny, getting soaked. At that point, Marcia was laughing hysterically.
“I would have given anything to see you soaking wet, in an apron, washing dishes with Johnny!” she exclaimed. “Absolutely anything!”
Preston sobered and added, “There’s more I want to . . . need to tell you about Johnny. Marcia, you’ll understand what I want to talk to you about better than I do. I’d like to ask you to help me on this . . . and a lot of other things.”
Preston could see from Marcia’s expression that she was trying to process all of this. He had to get it out, and he was thankful for her willingness to listen. Reaching over and gripping her right arm, he smiled warmly at Marcia.
He then detailed his trip to Corrigan Yachts, his time with Corey. He described what a neat man he was.
“I still have two of Joe’s collectible’s to meet – a bi-polar guy named Harry, and one other. I need to talk to Joe about those two, but he’s in the Bahamas and can’t be reached by phone right now.”
Several cups of coffee later and way into the night, Preston reached the end of the story. Marcia simply sat and stared at him.
“What?” Preston asked.
“Well . . . wow . . . what a story. It’s been a long day. I’m tired. Let’s go to bed . . . . ”
“Really?” Hope and a surge of male hormones sent a rush of blood to Preston’s head.
“Really, as to the sleep part. We need to go slow here, Preston. But it has been a good night.” Marcia said, taking his hand and leading him to the bedroom.
Preston woke smelling coffee, feeling great. Until he saw Marcia, already up and dressed, packing. “What are you doing?”
“I told you I needed some things here, Pres. I’m going back to Mother’s.”
“But what about last night? You aren’t staying? Marcia, please. I need you.”
“Last night was wonderful,” Marcia said, clicking her suitcase shut. “And I do love you. You slept like a baby. I woke up around four, with a lot on my mind. It takes time to build trust, Preston. Even more to rebuild it. There’s a lot of scar tissue to deal with.”
She bit her lip and turned away. “To be honest, I’m not sure I want to come back. I need time. Time to think about what I want, for a change. What I need.”
Chapter 44
After more than a week with Joe in the Abacos, Harry had taken more than four-thousand shots. When he downloaded the pictures onto Joe’s computer, Joe was fascinated by the range and diversity of the images. He found out how two people could look at the same thing and see it differently.
They ate fish they had either caught or speared on one of their dives, and lobster they caught at night. They hung out at the beach, at the local bars. And they talked. Instead of Harry winding down with all of this activity, he seemed to be energized, his energy endless. Each day he wanted to see more, do more, and talk more. Finally, late one afternoon, sitting on the cockpit, Joe decided they needed to get serious.
“Harry, you and I have had a great time down here.”
“We sure have, Joe. I’ve loved it, man. And we’re just starting. I want to explore the other islands. We could go to Eleuthera. I’ve never been there, but I hear it’s great. We could go farther down, too. We could go to Puerto Rico . . . ”
“Hold it, Harry,” Joe said. “The water’s a lot different between the Bahamas and Puerto Rico. That’s a rough stretch. And what about your job? I’ve loved having you down here, but it’s been almost two weeks. How much time away can you really afford?”
“Oh, that’s not a problem, Joe. I could take a month. I could take two months. This is great.”
“Have you got the resources to take two months without earning money?”
“Oh, yeah, that’s no problem. I can make it when I get back.”
“Well, that’s good. So I take it that you haven’t needed to see your doctor lately, you’ve been on an even keel, health-wise?”
“I’ve been feeling great ever since you called, and I’m loving being down here.”
“I don’t want to prick any bubbles, Harry, but how were you feeling a few days before I called?”
Silence for a moment.
Harry clasped his hands between his knees and looked up, his expression somber. “Not good, Joe. I was having a series of problems then. You know, my weight, no energy. I wanted to stay in bed most of the time. I couldn’t work. I lost my steady job shooting weddings and a few of my freelancers.”
“Were you seeing your doctor?”
“I went to him; he changed my medication. That helped a lot. What with being bipolar and all, the medication has to be exactly right, or it really screws me up. And sometimes my doctors just don’t get it right. That’s why I have these problems. But I don’t have any problems now.”
“Do you have your medication with you?” Joe asked.
“I did, but I ran out the third day. Don’t worry. I don’t need it now. In fact, it only causes me more problems.”
Joe paused, searching for the words to impress on Harry the seriousness of his situation. “Harry, I’m not a doctor, and I’m not in any position to give you advice. I love having you here keeping me company and doing all the things we’re doing together. It’s been fun, more than you know. But I would feel better if you went back, checked in with your doctor, and had your prescriptions refilled while you’re still feeling good. I’m being selfish here, Harry. I may not be in a position . . . with the bad telephone reception down here . . . to take another phone call like the one we had one time.”
Neither said anything for a long time.
Finally, Harry responded. “I’m sorry about that, Joe. Sometimes, like then, I wonder why it’s worth going on. I was going to end it that time, but after talking with you, I decided it would be better to keep going. You know what I mean?”
“Actually, I do,” Joe said quietly, looking down.
“I think you’re right, Joe,” Harry said, getting up from the chair, grabbing the hose, and refilling Buck’s water bowl. “I’ve been putting it off, but I do need to go back. I hate the medicine, but my doctor tells me I’ve got to take it, or else. Besides, I miss Scooter. It’s just that it’s been great down here, hanging out and not having to worry about any of that. Do the planes come in here every day?”
“You could catch one at 11:15 a.m. You’ve got a round-trip ticket with an open return, and I can call this afternoon, if you want.”
“I guess that’s the thing to do,” Harry said. “It’s funny, every time I’m down, I’m trying to get up. Every time I’m up, my doctor tells me I’m a little too happy. Either way, I’m screwed.”
Joe clapped his friend on the back, wondering how many more times he would have a chance to fish with his friend Harry. “We’re all screwed in one way or another, Harry. Let’s just remember the good times and try to have more of them.”
Harry and Joe sat in the cockpit with a couple of after-dinner drinks that night and then got a good sleep. After breakfast, then after they ran out of clay pigeons, Harry and Joe rode together in the taxi, had coffee, and said their goodbyes. “Thanks for everything.”
“Thank you, Harry. Your pictures are great, and your company is even better. I’ve had a good time with you. I appreciate you. I want you to know that.”
Harry gave Joe a big bear hug, waved goodbye, and waddled through security on to his gate.
Joe took the same taxi back to the boat, reflecting upon how much fun it had been with Harry. Uncomplicated. Easy. But he was tired, weary. He had done a lot physically in the last couple of weeks, and Harry’s pursuit of happiness had been increasingly intense. He decided to do nothing the rest of the day.
When he returned to the boat, he sat quietly with Buck, reading, grilling a hamburger. He fell asleep in his chair in the cockpit. He awoke an hour later, drank a bottle of cold water, and decided he should refresh his will. His current one left everything to Ashley.
He went into the salon, sat at the table, and hooked up his computer. He had drawn up many wills in his career and was trustee and/or executor in many estates. He pulled up a form will, and started filling in the blanks.
He skipped over the funeral instructions. Ashley had always wanted Joe, when the time came, to have a full Naval funeral and graveside service, and she insisted that he buy two plots in the Braydon cemetery so that she could join him. They had picked out the plots together in a serene section, near a large live oak tree and with water in sight. What Joe never anticipated was that he would be joining Ashley, instead of the other way around. He would have preferred no service, to simply be cremated and have his ashes spread at sea. But he knew how much the full service and burial would have meant to Ashley, and he had made his commitment. He had to talk with Red about the necessary red tape.
He made Alice his executrix. He also made a specific bequest to her in the amount of $100,000, with an expression of his deep gratitude and appreciation of her service, loyalty and support over all the years. He left her his house and furnishings, and to her and Johnny, he left Buck. He made a specific bequest to Red in the amount of $100,000, with his boat, truck, fishing gear, his Navy ring, and all of his jewelry. The rest of his estate he divided in half, one part a gift in Ashley’s name to the top five charities that she worked so hard for, the other half to the Bethesda Naval Hospital and the American Cancer Society, earmarked for medical research, prevention, and treatment of brain tumors.
He read the will over and printed it out, placed it in a file, returned to the cockpit, and took another nap.
Chapter 45
Marcia’s two weeks with her mother were intense but, on balance, helpful. So were her telephone conversations with Ann. But most of all, it was her replaying over and over in her mind her recent time with Preston that made her decision. She still loved him, perhaps now more than ever, and she knew he needed her. She also knew he was really trying, really reaching out to her. She had to give him and herself another chance. Besides, it wasn’t just the two of them anymore. She must go back. Marcia headed for New York.
Having Marcia home again gave Preston more energy and spirit than he had felt in the last ten years. A few days after her return, Preston had his lawyers transfer 50 percent of his shares in Wilson Holdings to her. He was determined that she really be part of his business, not simply share the risk. As the days went by, he invited Marcia to join him in trips to his dealerships, and was delighted that she accepted and seemed to enjoy coming along. More and more he realized how smart and effective Marcia was, how much she understood of the strategic side of business. And everyone liked her.
It was not all business. Preston flew to Vegas with Marcia and introduced her to Tommy and Missy. At one dinner, Marcia discovered that Preston had been instrumental in talking with a talent agent, arranging for Missy to have an audition as a dancer in a new show at the MGM Grand. Marcia delighted in watching Tommy and Preston smoke cigars and shoot craps together. After a couple of lunches with Tommy, she came to understand that he had a lot more depth and substance than she had originally thought. Preston appeared to enjoy the time he spent with Tommy, finding it relaxing, and to hear Tommy’s practical take on ideas from people in Preston’s organization.
Preston also made a few trips to Braydon, checked in with Alice and Johnny, and drove over to see Corey, taking him three different kinds of ice cream until he discovered the man’s favorite, black raspberry. On his last trip, just as Preston was leaving, Corey had handed him something wrapped in brown paper, tied with soft, white string. When he got home, Preston unfolded the paper and found an elegant wooden box made of cherry with bird’s eye maple inlay. When he opened the box, he found a scribbled note on a torn piece of brown paper. It simply said, “Don’t forget to feel the wood, young fella.” Preston kept the box on top of his dresser in his bedroom with his favorite watches and rings in it.
&nbs
p; He made several attempts to reach Harry, but was never able to talk to him on the phone. Harry had apparently moved, and there was no answer on his cell phone. Alice said she would do what she could to try to track him and the sixth ‘collectible’ down. These were the only two of the group Joe had mentioned that Preston had not connected with yet, and he wanted to meet them as soon as he could.
When another three weeks passed and Preston had not been able to reach Harry, he decided to give Alice a call.
“Good to hear from you, Preston. I haven’t called about Harry because I haven’t been able to reach him, either. I had trouble reaching Joe, too. I learned later that he’d gotten together with some fishing buddies in Nassau and that they’d gone to Eleuthera, where there was no cell reception. Harry was with Joe for a couple of weeks, but then he came back. Joe hasn’t heard from him either but wouldn’t have been able to anyway.”
“How’s Joe doing, Alice? Catching a lot of fish?”
“He sounded pretty good. Definitely catching a lot of fish. Swimming with Buck. I think he’s having a good time,” Alice said. “He didn’t say so, but I kind of got the feeling from the tone of his voice that he might be having enough fishing and is ready to come home.”
“Maybe he misses work.”
“Could be,” Alice replied. “I know we miss him, that’s for sure. I’m sure Harry will check in somewhere along the line. He goes like this for periods when Joe doesn’t hear from him, and then, after a while, he gets in touch. I’ll call you if I hear.”
“Thanks, Alice. Good to talk with you. Say hello to Joe. And be sure to tell him Alex and Casey are doing an outstanding job. We’re in touch with all our banks every day. Each of the stores is turning around. We’re following Joe’s plan, which is a masterpiece, and it’s working. I still can’t believe what a great job he did. Anyway, I don’t want to burden him with business issues, but I would appreciate your letting him know we’re doing well and that the banks are happy. And how much I appreciate what he did for us.”
The Collectibles Page 28