Twin Brothers - Page 363

She told me a story about one of my father’s uncle’s who had a girlfriend in Palm Springs that he would visit once a month.

Uncle Charlie thought no one knew a thing about this other woman and for years would talk about Palm Springs as if it were the breathtaking pyramids of Egypt or Michelangelo’s Sistine Chapel.

“He was always so serious as if trips to Arkansas made him worldly and a cut above the rest of us.” Mom would say. “But the truth was Aunt Colleen knew all about it.”

“Why didn’t she say anything to him? Why didn’t she kick him out?” I remember asking.

“Because she didn’t want to be on her own. She’d rather be made to look like a fool than to go without. Charlie was a good provider. Of course he was. He was paying off his conscience. Aunt Colleen could always have a new mink every year, a new car, the newest appliances because she knew Charlie would give it to her out of guilt.”

“Isn’t that smart, though? I mean, she wasn’t being a total chump, right?”

I’ll never forget the look my mother gave me when I said that.

“How old do you think Aunt Colleen is?” She asked me. In my teenage brain everyone over twenty looked old so I just shrugged my shoulders.

“Your Aunt Colleen is fifteen years younger than me.” Mom said.

“What?” I shouted in shock. Aunt Colleen had a face that was so wrinkled and so gray it was like a faded piece of wooden lawn furniture that had been left in the elements over a particularly cruel winter.

“That is what she traded for a few mink coats. Her youth is gone, wasted trying to stay one up on a man who should have had the shit beat out of him and then tossed out with the garbage.”

My mother never cussed. So you can imagine I was very interested in seeing how she acted toward both Uncle Charlie and Aunt Colleen at the next family gathering.

My parents set a good example for me but it was definitely a hard act to follow.

“I’d love your father whether he had all the money in the world or not even two nickels to rub together.” I remember her telling me when I was just starting to take an interest in girls.

“How come?” I asked.

“Because your father makes me laugh.”

Both my parents had passed away. First my mother died four years ago and then my father almost six months later to the day. I had already been running the business but I was touched to see how many people from the beginning remembered and called my father an honest businessman.

It was hard to be an honest businessman these days. Especially with guys like Carson around who had something I needed but wanted to play all kinds of games and make me jump through hoops in order to secure his commitment. It was worse than politics.

Maybe Denise was right. I knew exactly what my mother would say about a guy like Carson.

“For a lesser known client you could get a one hundred percent backing instead of settling for a possible fifty percent backing from Carson. Give it a month and see if he hasn’t changed his mind.”

My mother always said to give things a month.

“Your flunking science, give it a month to really work hard and you’ll see a change.” “Emmy Lou Perkins doesn’t want to go out with you? Give it a month of ignoring her completely and you’ll see a change.” “Thomas Carson will only talk to you if you get him Knick’s tickets. Give it a month and take his competitor to the game and see if you see a change.”

And Denise knew my mother well enough to know the weight of making that suggestion.

I looked at her while she blinked her eyes looking over her long thin nose at her notes as if she were studying something huge she had to present to me next.

Denise was not here to play games. She took pride in her job but she was not a yes man. I had plenty of those whether I wanted them or not. My secretary, on the other hand, had insider knowledge of just about everything that went on in my twenty-eight story building. I valued her opinion more than even the most seasoned members on the board of trustees.

“Why don’t you let me worry about Carson?” I said, buying myself some time to think. “What’s the second bit of good news?”

“We’ve got Bonnie’s replacement.”

“You’re kidding?”

“Nope. She was just interviewed by phone this morning and will be coming in tomorrow for a face to face. But according to Mrs. Ogawa she is perfect.”

“What a relief.” I rubbed my temples. “What a train wreck Bonnie was.” I squeezed my eyes shut and could see the face of the red-headed beast that had worked here until just two months ago.

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