“But I’m not hearing money,” Claiborne Rochester noted.
“And potential does not make money, nor guarantee it,” Ephraim Hennessey chimed once more, making plain his investment in the argument.
“No, it doesn’t, Ephraim.” Inman spoke with condescension as had Hennessey when addressing Anna. He seemed to know all their names, appeared quite comfortable in confronting the men. The sinking feeling that had abated earlier threatened to overtake Anna once more. “Potential says a whole lot to investors who are looking to get in on the bottom floor,” Inman ended.
With both hands gripping the curved handle of his cane, Chester McGee leaned forward. “And what are you suggesting?”
“He’s threatening us!” Thompson shouted.
“I’m telling you what you’d already know had your accountants read the proxies and spreadsheets Edward’s provided.” Inman was stern. Anna grew dizzy. Bryce helped her sit down. Inman said, “All of you have depended on Edward Manning to invest your money and honestly inform you of what he’s doing.” He surveyed the faces around the table. “Unlike most investors, he’s done just that. And you’ve turned a profit.”
“Now that he’s no longer the president and CEO, you’re worried that you’re going to be treated, I should say, mistreated, and lied to, like investors and trustees at most other companies. Edward Manning’s been your brother, your keeper, and your papa. That’s all over. You know it. I know it.” All eyes remained focused upon Inman.
Mesmerized with how he had taken command of the situation, Anna felt a sense of awe and fear. She had never seen this side of him. While she knew Inman had worked as an investment counselor, they had talked little of his job. His display of strength in the meeting juxtaposed to the reality of Edward dying at home mortified her. Awash in shame for having made love to Inman, she recalled how his body had enlivened hers, and to the point of enabling her to give back, and reclaim, ever how temporary, what she had once felt and held for Edward. Inman’s warmth had spread throughout her. It had delivered a sense of peace and protection. That sense of safety had returned when she was intimate with Edward some nights later. It had expanded and opened her heart when watching Edward sob.
Inman landed another blow to the trustees. “How many of you have discussed these changes in the company with your attorneys?” All heads fell except for Harrison Filbert. He looked to Filbert. “What about you, Harrison?”
“My lawyer advised me to sell.”
“And why is that?”
“He said that any man who would give his company to his wife under any circumstances held a questionable mental state.” Filbert’s voice was low and quivered.
Inman placed both palms upon the table and leaned toward Filbert at the center. “Under any circumstances?”
“He didn’t like the fact that,” Filbert’s voice reeked with shame, “Mrs. Manning has only been a stay-at-home wife and mother. “And I’m sure that as soon as you sell your stock, your lawyer will run out and buy shares in Manning Ventures.” Inman launched his jab. “That is if he hasn’t already lined up someone to purchase it from you, someone you don’t recognize as representing him.”
His eyes wide with anger and frustration, Harrison Filbert whipped his head around to Inman. Goosebumps spread across Anna’s back. The men grew still. Inman then lifted the large manila envelope on the table, walked to Bryce, and handed it to him. “I’ll be in touch,” he said to Bryce.
Making no final attempt to engage her attention, Inman turned. Anna felt about to implode and shatter.?
Chapter 39
Anna stared out the window. During the ride home, Bryce was driving, his hands clinching the steering wheel. “You did well,” he consoled. “Those men are a tough bunch.” She continued looking beyond the passenger window. “Anna, did you hear me?”
Bryce brought the sedan to a halt at the stoplight. She turned to him, said, “I don’t know about this.”
“It’s never been easy. And it won’t now, not with all that’s happening.”
“And what is happening?” Anna said.
Bryce’s shoulders slumped. The light turned green. He drove through the intersection. Three stoplights beyond he said, “Edward could only offer promises when he was seeking investors years ago. He had to prove himself. He did, and has continued to do so, time and time again. These men have come to trust, and lean upon him. They depend on Edward Manning to make them money. Now they’ re worried about losing what they’ve come to expect.” Bryce turned his attention back to the street.
Again the light turned green. He drove through the four-way. “If it means anything, these men aren’t your average investors.” He said, “The money they entrusted to Edward was their life savings. Even Harrison Filbert’s.”
“Maybe they’re right.” Anna still doubted herself. “I have no experience in running a company or turning a profit. Why should they trust me? All I have been is a housewife. What can I do except help them keep what they have, at the least, not lose their money?”
“Are you asking me or yourself?” Bryce said, still driving. “You’ve also been a mother. And as for your experience, expertise, or acumen ... “ Memories of Serine having used the word took Anna back to the day both Matt and Grant had arrived to her home. “Hayes is right,” Bryce said. “Being a mother and running a home is great preparation for overseeing a company. One need only look at your children as evidence.” Taken with his words, Anna turned to Bryce. “Edward’s proud of who they’ve become and what they have done with their lives,” Bryce said. “He credits it all to you. For all it’s worth, these geezers came to check you out, see what you were made of. They would have pulled out and sold their shares long before the meeting today had they truly been afraid of you losing their money.” A comrade in age with David, Bryce seemed far more seasoned in deciphering the truth of men’s hearts when words and actions opposed one another. It was obvious how he had earned Edward’s trust.
Anna turned back to the passenger window. What had Edward been trying to say in giving her Manning Ventures before he died rather than allowing her to inherit it upon his death? That he had been trying to avert chaos within the company seemed unlikely in light of what had taken place during the meeting. Perhaps Thompson was right, that Edward was trying to reach heaven.
Bryce brought the car to a stop in the driveway. Anna got out before he could come around and open her door.
“I can see myself inside,” she said then headed toward the front door.
Upstairs, Anna met Bertrice coming down the hall from Ed ward’s room. Bertrice’s hands stood upon her hips, small and curvaceous like Elena’s.
“So how was the meeting?” she asked.
“It went well,” Anna lied and took in a breath. She was in no mood for niceties. Though Bertrice presented a version of Elena that Anna had many times wished for, the hospice worker’s presence also evidenced that Edward was dying.
Anna longed for Inman, wanted to call him, but ...
Bertrice smiled then said, “I’m sure Edward will want to hear all about it.”
Unaccustomed to Edward being the weaker one, Anna was hesitant. “Did you have anything else to say or tell me?” she said to Bertrice.
“I was wondering the same of you.”
Anna hated Bertrice’s presence that she had come to depend on. And then there was Bertrice’s intuition. She read people. That Bertrice stayed overnight seeing to Edward provided Anna freedom from Edward. And yet Anna felt guilty in her avoidance of Edward’s dying, and his needs that arose in his failure to thrive. Anna had consoled herself when preparing for the board meeting that she was not ignoring Edward, rather focusing her efforts on what would re main after he was gone—That’s it! The startling thought gained and brought order in Anna’s mind. Manning Ventures was not simply Edward’s mark on the world, or evidence that he had traveled this way. It would also live after he died. But with my lack of experience why me to see over it? Again Anna felt as though she was a paw
n in a sick game crafted by Edward. She grew angry. How narcissistic. His work and his position at the helm of his company always came first. Then, again, why not? Anna had occupied second place for the nearly thirty-four years of their marriage. First it was the women. Now it was the company. She stormed past Bertrice, and without knocking, entered the bedroom where Edward lay half asleep.
“I need to know—” Anna started. Edward turned from facing the wall. Lost underneath the covers, his body appeared to have shrunk to half his normal weight. His eyes, forever reflecting energy, lolled with weariness. Anna’s throat ran dry. Unable to speak, she turned back toward the door, was about to leave when she glimpsed the cover of Tricycle Magazine. It was lying upon his Edward’s chest. He had fallen asleep while reading.
He had also been reading it the day of the fiasco, when both Matt then Grant arrived to console Serine. Then as now, a middle-aged white woman with a shaven head—the Buddhist nun on the cover—called out to her. Resisting the summons to compassion, Anna recalled how Edward had read the magazine throughout Serine and Grant’s argument on the other side of the pool. He had clung to the magazine in the days and weeks since, as if it were an object transitioning him to a beyond that no one had truly lived, and returned to speak of. Again Anna resisted the furious desire to grab the magazine and throw it at Edward. Then, as now, the Buddhist nun on the cover called Anna to calm down. Her anger subsided in deference to mercy.
Anna had never considered Edward to hold spiritual inclinations. Yet, death brought changes. The serenity of the nun’s face on the cover soothed Anna. Edward’s death had yet to arrive, but Anna was already undergoing the pain of transformation. Against her desire to ask why he continued reading this magazine, what words upon the pages between the covers drew and held his attention, she instead asked, “Why did you send me in there?”
Edward forced his way to sit up, let the magazine slide down to his thighs, and revealed more of his withered body. Dark splotches dotted his skin that held a vibrant, red undertone beneath the clear shade of walnut. “I wanted you to see what you’ll need to do once I’m gone.”
“You think handing me Manning Ventures can make up for all the years you left me here alone?”
“What did they say?” Edward rescued her from her moment of despair. He swung his feet to touch the floor. Squared and sitting up, he reached for his bathrobe.
“You knew they’d attack me, take what little dignity I still had, rip me to shreds.”
“Men don’t like change, particularly when it involves their money.” Edward slipped his right arm, then his left into his robe.
“And what about McGrath?” Anna demanded. Edward’s eyes widened. “Mrs. McGrath sent someone to represent her,” Anna said. “Inman Hayes. It seems women are the same as men. They too can keep people on a need-to-know basis.”
“I would agree.” Edward lowered his head, and stared at his bathrobe’s hem hanging by his leg. A wave of heat swept over Anna. Only the fear of hurrying his death stilled her hands from hitting his face. She was afraid of losing him. Yes, that was it. The realization gripped her as a sheath of rage enwrapped, and entrapped her. Why did she have to be so sentimental and committed? Why did she have to take her promises so seriously? Elena’s words called. When the time comes, I don’t want to be alone. The words had translated to Anna as, I want you near so I can inflict more pain. It is hard to lose those you love, even more so when they have not been what you needed and wanted, or hoped and longed for them to be. Anna’s mother had not died alone. Reverend Elijah, Anna’s father, had been present.
Anna said to Edward, “I want to sell the company.”
“There’s nothing I can do to stop you,” Edward said. Darkness mixed with an essence of surrender filled his eyes. “It’s all I have.”
Anna knelt and took his face into her hands. She pinched his sagging cheeks as if he were her long lost pet that had disappeared when a puppy, and now fully matured, had returned faithful and protective. The bones of his flesh were lost in death. “All I ever wanted was you,” she whispered. “Not the company, not this house. I love the children, but ... I needed you.”
Edward placed his forefinger to Anna’s lips then enfolded her into his arms.
The two wept.?
Chapter 40
The phone rang later that night. “I need to see you.” It was Bryce. “What’s wrong?” Anna asked. “Thompson and Dawson are pulling out. They’re offering us first dibs on buying their shares before taking them public. I’d like to keep their shares in house, but—”
“Do we have the money to pay them without taking the company under?”
“You learn fast,” Bryce said. “It would be a stretch, well worth it, and then, I opened the envelope Hayes gave me.” Anna recalled what she now considered Inman’s swagger when he walked past her to Bryce, handing him the large envelope. He had not glanced her way, had left without trying to connect with her one last time. She had yet to call Inman and apologize, then explain why she had ignored him. He had not called her.
Bryce’s voice came through the phone. “No sooner than I hung up from speaking with Thompson and Dawson’s attorney, Inman Hayes called.”
“Don’t tell me he’s had a change of heart, too.”
“Quite the opposite. Mrs. McGrath wants to buy more shares in the company,” Bryce said. That’s what the folder in the envelope was about.”
“Would that be wise?”
“Ordinarily I’d advise against it,” Bryce said. “But I’m expecting that on hearing the news about Thompson and Dawson, Harrison Filbert will go with them, if he hasn’t already made plans. We’ll know by the morning.”
“How many shares are up for sale with Thompson and Dawson leaving?”
“Eight percent in the company as a whole,” Bryce said. Anna owned fifty-one percent. “Of the investors, it’s thirty percent,” Bryce explained. “And with the shares being valued over ten-thousand dollars each, we’re talking about ... let’s see,” His voice slowed. Anna imagined him punching numbers into his calculator. “Thompson alone owned almost two hundred of the shares of the company. Pierce Dawson owned approximately one hundred shares.”
“I could sell some of my shares to pay Dawson” Anna said.
“That would flood the market and instigate signs of a takeover,” Bryce said. Anna broke into a sweat. She was glad not have to deal with Thompson, Dawson, and perhaps Filbert. Yet the possibility of the man with whom she had slept with over the last year also overseeing twenty percent of the shares in Manning Ventures felt dangerous, too.
Bryce continued, “Hayes says Mrs. McGrath is prepared to buy however many shares become available due to the company’s new ownership.”
“Do they know three hundred, perhaps more, are available?”
“His attendance at the board meeting was my first time seeing him,” Bryce said.
Had Helena McGrath anticipated this might happen, or perhaps Inman? Is that why she asked him to represent her? Worse yet, Anna said, “Is Helena McGrath using Inman to orchestrate some sort of takeover?” Anna left Bryce little time to answer. “In fact, what sort of person is she?”
“That’s easy.” Bryce chuckled. His humor dissipated. “Despite being a sturdy eighty-year-old, she’s quite smart. Reminds me a lot of you. Her husband, not unlike Edward, started out small then got pretty big.”
“He was in real estate?”
“No. Boxes.”
“Boxes?”
“Meet me for breakfast in the morning,” Bryce said. “I’ll explain.” ?
Chapter 41
Anna met Bryce for breakfast the following morning at the Amory Pillage Egg Shoppe down from the house, during which time he explained of Helena McGrath’s husband.
“Canning McGrath owned a small store for over fifty years,” Bryce began. He buttered his bagel, took a bite and swallowed.
“But what about the boxes?” Anna asked. “How can someone make a small fortune selling boxes?”
&
nbsp; “Canning sold boxes on the side, ones he designed and put together. No one ever thought much of Canning McGrath or the boxes he made. What no one also knew was that he owned the patent to his boxes.” Bryce took another bite of his bagel, again swallowed and drank some coffee. “The boxes were well designed, came in all sizes, were extremely cheap. The companies that purchased them assumed the freight and shipping charges. Canning McGrath would have loved the Internet.”
“He died?”
“About fifteen years ago. His key to selling the boxes was direct relationships between user and maker. No middlemen. Just sellers to buyers. Using the Yellow Pages, he searched out what companies might be interested in purchasing his boxes, called them and wrote letters. He never asked more than a worthy profit. The companies he contacted were small and rarely known, all in the U.S. Many of them sold products to third-world countries and were pleased with what he provided. Everybody got what they wanted.”
“In that way, he was like Edward,” Anna said.
“Yeah.” Both Bryce and Anna knew that many third-world countries were not so third-world anymore. Several of them had burgeoning middle-class populations.
“Canning McGrath was the first person to invest in Manning Ventures, Edward’s prime interest outside of real estate,” Bryce said. “He wanted to leave something for you.” Edward’s right hand man, and now Anna’s, paused in the echo of his words. The weight of their meaning grew heavy in the silence. Anna looked upon her hand to which she had not yet returned her wedding band.
Bryce continued. “Edward had been looking to get into some thing beyond selling properties. Canning gave him the boxes.”
“How so?” Anna said.
“Edward had been playing with one of Canning’s boxes at the outset of one of his trips to Brazil. The plane had yet to take off. Ed ward busied himself with inspecting the box while the plane sat on the tarmac. When the passenger beside him asked to see it, Edward handed it over. The man spent the remainder of the flight studying the way it was put together. When deplaning at the end of the flight, he told Edward he could use a box like that, but he needed it to be two-inches by three-inches in size. He also needed 10,000 of them each month starting immediately. Edward called Canning, but there was no way Canning could come up with that many boxes that size that soon. Neither could he produce that many on a consistent basis. Through one of his contacts in Hong Kong, Edward found a company that could make the boxes at a price that would allow McGrath a sizeable profit. Things ran smoothly since Canning owned the patent, not that the Chinese cared. All this happened before the British released Hong Kong to China. Anyway, the boxes were made and delivered to the man Edward had met on the plane. He was from Argentina. When Edward delivered Canning his first check, Canning gave him half and said, ‘Take the rest and make it grow, like you did with my boxes.’
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