by Janet Cooper
“Let’s take the company first. Was it a privately owned company?”
“Yes. I think so. He told me only the boss should control the money.”
“Sounds like Rod,” he said, with a nod.
Taylor frowned.
“Oh, he’s right. I tell my students they must either handle the money or make damn sure the person who is has the company’s best interest in mind.” Jeff, feeling more comfortable with this conversation, relaxed. He picked up a sandwich, unzipped the bag and removed a thick ham and cheese and mustard and tomato on rye. “Mary remembered what I like.”
“How anyone can eat mustard with tomatoes.” Taylor shivered, looking at the combination. “Getting back to the discussion, explain a private company.”
“Do you know anything about his company?”
“Other people invested with him.”
“Stockholders?” he asked, before taking a large bite of his sandwich.
“I’m not sure. People gave him money for his big projects. He had several irons in the fire. Whether he gave them stock, I don’t know.” She shrugged. “Isn’t that standard?”
Jeff could tell Taylor was out of her element. Give her a horse, a barn, or an equestrian center to run and she’d beat the opposition by several lengths. In addition, he noticed she’d only said Rod’s name once. Almost as if she wanted to avoid it. That was fine with him. If he never had to say the name again, he’d die a happy man.
After swallowing his food, Jeff returned to the topic. “If I could see his books, I could tell. Barring that, let me give a few theories. Sometimes people will lend the developer money without stock being issued. Usually the developer promises a larger return on investment than stocks or bonds or saving accounts do. An example is if I’m planning to build a shopping center with houses and apartment and condos, but I don’t want to go to the bank, for various reasons, which I’ll explain in a moment, I contact friends or acquaintances and ask if they would like to make two or three times the current interest rate on their money. He might go higher, depending on how risky the proposition is. Most people are eager to make a buck. If they can make a sum several times the norm, that’s even better. That’s generally why individuals invest.”
She started to interrupt. “As I tell my students, hold the questions until the end.”
Taylor grinned.
God, how he loved the way her eyes sparkled and the dimple that formed when she smiled. Clearing his throat, he went on, “Usually, the developer will have a lawyer draw up an agreement. Everyone investing will sign as well as the developer. Basically the papers are an IOU. If the investors have a personal relationship with the developer, friend, business associate, etc., the developer might give them a slightly higher return. The normal time period, before the investors reap any return, is at the project’s completion. So the money is not available until then. The investors realize this before they give their checks. That’s why the return is so high.
“Now, why not go to a bank? Three main reasons: one the developer sees an opportunity to allow his friends and/or associates to make money, not the bank or lending firm. Two, the developer doesn’t have a relationship or record with these companies. And the third, when money’s tight the developer can avoid high interest loans and large down payments by self-financing via investors.” He bit off another piece and chewed.
Taylor opened her mouth. Jeff popped a fried green pickle slice in. She licked his fingers and he almost fell off his perch. He struggled on with a half swallowed mouthful barely able to force the food down his throat. “Let’s look at the second and third reasons first. To borrow money, the developer must have a ‘track record’ with the lending organization. If the developer has defaulted on a loan or failed to pay his bills, no lending organization will consider giving him a loan.” He offered her another fried pickle. She shook her head and kept quiet.
“If the lender does agree, with today’s tight market, the interest charged the customer will eat away a very large portion of the profit. The first scenario is self-explaining, I think.”
She nodded in agreement.
“Any questions on companies?” he asked in a professorial manner. He pushed the remaining piece of his sandwich in his mouth and chewed quietly, watching her facial expressions.
“No, but explain about buying the land.”
“When a developer or anyone puts a bid in for a piece of land, or any property, both parties sign a contract. At that time, the buyer gives a ‘good faith’ deposit to the seller. The amount depends on the price of the property and agreement between the two parties. If the seller is part of the project, he or she might not receive any money. Instead, their portion of the project is the land. Until the project is finished or the closing on the land is completed, no other money changes hands. If the buyer can’t, for whatever reason, complete the sale, the seller keeps the down payment.
“Any other questions?” Jeff took a long drink of sweet tea.
“If,” She stopped and swallowed. “If he’s not found, what happens to the money people gave him? When does the law decide what to do with his company?” She took a very deep breath.
Again, his desires flowed to the surface. He sat quietly for a moment or two. “This part’s harder and depends on the type of company. Generally, when people and money are involved, the State of South Carolina acts quickly. A few years ago, a developer and his pilot took off from a small airport, after checking on one of their projects. They never reached their destination. Search parties hunted in the mountain from the embarkation point along the flight plan filed, i.e. the route the plane should have taken. The only object found was a cooler.”
Taylor flinched. “A cooler?”
Jeff could have kicked himself around the garden and into the river for telling that part.
“What happened?” Her voice sounded very low and weak.
“Taylor, until we know more, there’s no use speculating …”
She interrupted him. “Many of our friends invested in his various developments. Most are hard, working, middle-class people without a lot of other resources. They can’t afford to wait for years for the courts to release their funds.”
Taylor took his hands and stared at him. Heat flowed throughout his body.
“Is that what will happen? How many years before the case will be settled?”
He shook his head. “In the situation I mentioned, after a month, the police, lawyers, and the courts decided to declare the men dead.”
She dropped his hands and collapsed against him. With the food between them, he awkwardly put his arms around her. Although he wished to crush her to him, in a way he appreciated the obstruction separating their bodies. A few minutes later, her wet tears, shed silently as he held her, wet his shirt. Allowing his lips to caress her auburn hair, he said, “Tiny, he’s missing. He’ll be found. None of what we discussed will happen.”
She pulled back, wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “I pray you are right.”
Clearing his throat, he asked, “Any other questions, Miss Taylor?”
“Possibly, but I need to digest what you told me about real estate and developing. My other question regards Ms. Lee. She called again and said you’d talked to her. What was your impression of her?” Taylor looked directly at him.
His face hardened. “That woman is after one thing, money. The accident was terrible, but the insurance company will probably pay her a fair amount. Because your dad is the type of person he is, he will no doubt arrange additional money if he believes the girl needs it. No sum would ever be enough for Ms. Lee. She’ll blackmail him, legally, if she not satisfied with the settlement. Trust me she won’t ever accept just one payment.”
“That’s my reading, too.” Taylor frowned. “I’m going to call the Mueller’s. Arv and Annette have represented Dad’s business and our personal legal situations for years. They might want to be prepared.”
“No might about that situation. They definitely must be notified.” Jef
f glanced at this watch. “Lunch was outstanding. Unfortunately, I have lesson plans to prepare for tomorrow and I promised Mary I’d bring Dad over this afternoon to spend time with Doc.”
“That’s kind of you.” She gave him a warm smile.
He controlled his emotions with difficulty. Her sorrow scarred his heart. He wished he could physically comfort her. Instead, he forced his attention away from her and glimpsed at the remains of their picnic. “We didn’t do much damage. Mary will remark negatively on how much is left.”
Taylor swung her leg over the trunk of the tree, pushed off, and jumped down. “Why don’t you take the leftovers home. They’ll make a light supper or lunch tomorrow.” Tomorrow’s the funeral. She stopped and leaned against the tree trunk.
“Dad loves Mary’s food and not having to cook is great.” Jeff had followed her suggestion and started to re-pack the food. “Taylor, are you going to …” He eyed her. Her face resembled a piece of parchment. Immediately, he rose and placed his hands on her arms to steady her.
“The funeral, the lunch afterwards. How could I have forgotten? I’ve been worried about Rod and the problems he’s left behind, when my mother’s funeral is tomorrow. How could I have pushed that aside?” She asked aloud.
He folded her in his arms, again smelling the fresh lemony aroma. Jeff took a deep breath and even though the reason he held her was only for comfort, he enjoyed holding her, enjoyed what would never be his. “In the past couple of days your entire life changed. Two unexpected tragedies occurred at the almost the same time. With your groom missing and your mother passing, I’m surprised you can function at all.”
“But she’s… was… my mother. I’ve totally blocked her death out of my mind. All I’ve been concentrating on is Rod. What a thoughtless daughter I am.” Her voice, barely audible, held nothing but sadness as she muttered into his shirt.
Reluctant to release her, but needing to watch her expression as he spoke, Jeff held her at arm’s length. “Listen to me. I’m not a shrink, but as a friend, yet an outsider let me share what I believe and observed. For twenty years, you have lived your life with your father and without your mother. She chose her path. For most of your life, she wasn’t involved! For hours, days, sometimes months at a time, she caused heartache and pain to you and your dad. Why would you expect yourself to start thinking about her? Right or wrong have nothing to do with the situation. You’ve remembered now. When we go back to the house, you’ll go inside, support, and help your father. My Dad will be over around four. Don’t beat yourself up. Accept the situation and move ahead.”
“Thank you for being here, Jeff. I’m not sure what I would do without my best friend.”
“That’s what friends are for. Isn’t there a song about that?” He turned her around, picked up the basket and thermos and headed to the house. As they walked he thought I want to be so much more than that.
Chapter Six
After saying good-bye to Jeff, Taylor sought out Mary. She found her leaning over a round table in the library with photo albums stacked on the pulled-out chairs. As she moved closer, Taylor saw a large piece of construction paper with a few pictures pasted on it–in the center, a single photo of her mother as a young girl. “Where did you find all of these?”
Mary glanced up. “In an upstairs closet. When your mother left, I moved all these from the library to a space that neither you nor your father visited. Your father wouldn’t have wanted them thrown away nor did he need to see them every day.” Mary returned to the albums and removed another picture. This one showed Julia Ann holding Taylor, who was wearing a christening dress.
Taylor took a deep breath. “I’ll help.”
“If you’re not up to it, I’ll finish.” She gave a sweet smile.
“I’ll do this for Dad.”
“And for you.”
She nodded. “And for me.”
For the next few hours, the two sat and discussed pictures. Occasionally, one or the other would laugh at a memory a particular picture evoked. Completing the collage, Taylor eased her back straight and shook her shoulders, shaking out the kinks. “Miss Mary, when did Mom start drinking?”
Mary moved two photo albums from a chair and sat down. “Your mother loved life. We attended Beaufort College together, joined the same sorority, hung around with the same group, often dated the same guys, at different times.” She chuckled.
While she spoke Taylor, too, removed several albums and took a seat.
“One night, a very cold night, we even had a dusting of snow the next morning, which, as you know, is a once in ten-year occurrence, I found your mother passed-out. She lay a short distance from the sorority house curled up in a ball. I can’t remember how I chanced to find her. That doesn’t matter. After waking her, enough so she could walk with my help, I put her to bed. The next morning she woke up and couldn’t recall anything, except being at a frat party and drinking. A couple of other times, similar scenarios happened. In those cases she’d made it back to the house. In my day, we accepted the problem and generally cut back on our drinking, but usually we didn’t stop. That’s exactly what Julia Ann did, most of the time. (Today, the medical profession would probably say she could have been a border-line diabetic or perhaps allergic to alcohol.) After several additional incidents, I suggested she should stop drinking, entirely. Or cut down to one or two a week. She informed me that her life was none of my affair. A week later, she moved out of our room. Our friendship never totally recovered. She believed I was judging her not merely trying to help. Oh, we talked, but we didn’t share our thoughts or our boyfriends.”
Taylor sat still and listened. She had never been able to discuss this with her father, although she’d tried. “When did she start drinking all the time?”
“I’m not sure. Most alcoholics hide their drinking. I believe she began when you were little.”
“Could I have caused her to drink?” The guilt washed over Taylor.
Mary touched her hand. “Dear child, you did nothing to cause her problem.
“Are you sure I’m not responsible for her drinking?” Taylor had to know.
“I just told you, child, your mother had a problem many years before you were born. And no your father didn’t cause her to drink, either. He kept alcohol out of the house, but she always had a supply somewhere. When he discovered her stash, she’d move the bottle somewhere else.
“I recall attending a pig-roast. By eight that night, she was smashed. That happened more often than not after college. Friends learned to call her before lunch if they wanted to have a rational conversation.”
Taylor hesitated then blurted out, “Why did Dad marry her with her drinking problem?” She flushed and covered her mouth in shame for speaking her thoughts aloud.
Mary patted her other hand offering comfort. “After your dad graduated from Beaufort, he started Chiropractic College in Chicago. He graduated in 3 1/2 years because he went to summer school each year. He seldom came home. When he did get to Beaufort for holidays, Julia Ann almost never drank.
“When she learned about her pregnancy, with you, she stopped drinking completely. Everyone marveled at the change. Two years after your birth, she’d reverted to her old habits. Mary stared into Taylor’s green eyes. “I attended a few Al-Anon groups with and without your father. You’ve gone, too.”
Taylor remembered her deep embarrassment at the first meeting. She bobbed her head.
“AA tells family and friends only the person drinking is responsible. We can enable, but we can’t be responsible. Alcoholism is a disease. Please remember that.”
Taylor embraced Mary’s hand and tightened her grip. “You’ve been a surrogate mother to me for a very long time. Thank you. I love you.”
Mary sniffed. “And you dear girl, have been the child I never had.” A watery smile filled her face.
“Can I ask another question?” Taylor needed to change the subject and craved additional information.
“You certainly MAY, if you can.�
� Mary grinned.
Taylor giggled. As long as she could remember, Mary had corrected her grammar. A born English teacher, she had taught high school for years, before she started working for the Harris family. “Dad says you’re psychic.”
“Sometimes I am blessed and can ‘see’ things.”
She drew a deep breath. “Can you see if Rod’s alive?”
Mary frowned as she stared at Taylor. “Why? Do you think he has passed on?”
“No. If he had, I’m sure I’d know.” She gathered her thoughts. “Earlier, Dad and I talked about feeling, experiencing, knowing if a person one loved was dead. He told me he had no indication Mom had had an accident.” Clearing her throat, Taylor charged on. “As an engaged couple, who love one another, shouldn’t each of us, Rod and me, be able to sense if one of us had …” She stopped, unable to finish her sentence.
Mary’s eyes focused on Taylor. “Some people connect in a way that allows this to happen. Most don’t. Does that mean their love is less strong or deep? No. I can’t explain why this happens or doesn’t. If you don’t sense he’s departed from us, hold on to that, strongly. Your belief could make a difference.”
Taylor hugged her.
* ~ *
When Jeff had spoken to Doc, they’d agreed to meet in the sunroom directly behind the living room. When he pulled open the side, screen door and let his dad enter, Doc stood waiting.
“Thought we’d enjoy the beautiful view, rather than meet in my stuffy office.”
The two older men grasped hands. “Always the gentleman, Martin, too kind to say climbing the steps might be too much for this old geezer.” He chuckled.
“Since we’re the same age, are you saying I’m an old geezer, too?” He eyed his friend and the twinkle showed in his eyes.
Trey surveyed his friend. “Take what I said anyway you’d like.”
All three men laughed before taking seats.
As Trey sat down, he sighed, “Wonderful spot; the live oak, the river, and the camellia garden.” He shifted his attention from the outside to Martin. “We had lots of good parties here.”