Sleeping Beauty (60 page)

“Oh, dear, oh, dear,” sighed Nina. “It sounded just fine last week, when Vince was talking, but now it sounds terrible; it really does, you know.”

Charles was hunched in his chair, his eyes closed. Anne felt a wave of shame for what she was doing to him. She felt
his agony and his own shame, and for the first time in all the years since she had left home, she thought of him as a person in pain who needed help. But she was helping Gail and Leo; they came first, at least for now. And after them came the others, who were watching her with frowns of concentration and dismay. She had wanted to help all of them; it turned out she could help only some. But saving Tamarack would help everyone in the long run, she thought; no one would be happy if they lost it.

“Does it make sense to stake everything on one company?” Anne asked. “Why would you, unless you're absolutely sure of it? How much confidence do you have right now in Chatham Development? You know its track record, and you know Tamarack's performance under Leo; where does the future seem more certain? Wouldn't it be smart to concentrate on alternative plans, ways to raise money to do part of what you want, even if you can't do everything? Shouldn't you be concentrating on your strengths when you're in trouble, and not your weakest point?”

“Right,” William said heavily. “Absolutely right; we can't pretend it's not. But then what? We're nowhere.”

Fred slammed his fist on the arm of his chair. “God damn it, we're where we've been from the beginning; we're selling this damned company and going ahead in Chicago! There's nothing here worth all this talk; it's no paradise; it's a little company in a little cow town that nobody gives a damn about except when they come for a week to ski their brains out and then go home. Nobody cares about this place; it's not real; it's a fantasy. We've got jobs on the line in Chicago, and a company that's been around for a long time, and you voted last week to keep it going. Nothing's changed since then; you all voted to sell—”

“No, we didn't,” Marian said. “We decided to look into selling. We didn't even have a real vote.”

“The
intent
was there. We all knew what we were talking about. Vince knew what we were talking about; we were talking about
selling
as soon as we got a decent price. And nothing's changed since then.”

“Well, but you know, Fred, it must be different because it
sounds so different,” said Nina gently. “Of course you know much more about business than I do, but it seems to me Vince gave us just part of the picture. And Anne, who speaks so well, I'm very impressed with Anne, gave us the rest of it, and the background, and the little details, and details are so important, aren't they? It seems to me Vince left them out—politicians don't like details; they keep avoiding them, have you noticed?—and I think we should take a real vote now, I really do. I'm terribly sorry, Charles, I do love you and it's very sad that you're in such trouble, but I can't imagine selling The Tamarack Company right now and giving you all that money. Good heavens, what if you lost it, the way you lost everything else? What would we have left?”

There was a profound silence. That Nina, who did not even read the financial reports of Chatham Development, had so neatly skewered Vince, and so precisely summed up the argument against selling, was enough to silence everyone.

“Well, what's next?” Marian asked after a moment. “Anne, what do you think? You've pulled all the rugs out from under us; do you have any suggestions? I know you've been talking about business, I understand that, but what about Charles?”

Anne looked at Josh. “Leo told me about your idea. I think this is a good time to talk about it.”

“I do, too,” Leo said quickly.

“Josh?”
demanded Walter. “First Anne and then Josh? You're letting a couple of
outsiders
tell us what to do?”

“Anne is part of this family,” Gail said icily. “And Josh is our friend. And he cares about us.”

“I suggest you sell part of The Tamarack Company,” Josh said. “You could sell as much as forty-nine percent and still retain control. If you get a good price for the shares, it could cover the ten-million-dollar interest payment that's due next month, and Charles could pay back some of his personal loan. You'd still control two companies, and you'd have bought time to come up with the money to pay off the rest of Charles' loan and get a new project started. Maybe if
you brought in a new president from outside the company, you could take some new directions.”

“Outside?”
Fred shouted. “Who the hell do you think—”

“Fred, cut it out,” Marian said wearily. “I like Josh's idea. I move we find somebody to buy up to forty-nine percent of The Tamarack Company. I'm not sure about bringing in a stranger as president; maybe vice president under Fred. We'll have to talk about that. I'm sorry, Charles, but I think you'll have to step aside. We've never had a separate chairman of the board; you might want to do that. Gail, as soon as we've voted, I'll help clear the dishes. I'm stiff from listening to all this talk. Maybe now we can enjoy dessert.”

There was another silence, this time, it seemed to Anne, from exhaustion. “I second Marian's motion,” said William after a moment.

“I vote yes,” said Rose, not looking at Walter.

“A very good idea,” said Nina, and put up her hand to be counted, as if she were in a classroom.

“I vote yes,” Gail said quietly.

Everyone turned to Charles. He shook his head. “It won't bring in enough to do what we planned. You shouldn't have done that,” he said to Anne. “You should have been on my side. We could have made it work this time. We know what to do.”

“Are you sure?” she said softly. “Or do you only know what not to do, because it did such damage the first time?”

Their eyes met in a long look, and both of them knew that Charles had more to learn than making a reorganized company a success; he had to learn to be a father to his daughter.

He was the first to look away. His shoulders were slumped. “Go on with your vote; I won't fight it.”

“We don't need a vote,” said William. “It looks unanimous to me. Oh, Keith, what about you?”

“I'll go along with everybody,” Keith said. “No problem as far as I'm concerned.”

“Unanimous, then,” said William.

Leo went to Gail, at the other end of the table, and sat on
the arm of her chair, his arm around her shoulders. “Thank you,” he said to the others. “I take that as a vote of confidence, and I want you to know we'll do everything we can to make you proud of us.”

“That's it?” Ned cried. “We get to stay?”

“We get to stay?” Robin echoed.

“So
now
it's done!” Ned finished triumphantly. “It wasn't before, but now it's
done!”

“That's enough, Ned,” Gail said sharply. “When you're in the majority, you ought to be gracious about it.”

“It's all right,” William said. “He can cheer a little bit; it's all right. Now, as long as we're unanimous, we should think about—”

“Anne didn't vote,” Gail said abruptly.

“It's all right, Gail,” Anne said sharply. Josh was looking at her; it was the first he had realized she owned no shares in her family's company. “It's all right,” she said again. “I'm satisfied. Leave it alone. Please.”

“It's not all right,” Gail said stubbornly. “Just because you weren't around when Grandpa divided up his shares—” She met Anne's eyes. “Okay, I won't push it. But you did so much today—”

“More than enough for one day,” Anne said firmly. “William, what did you start to say?”

“What did I start to say? Oh. Well, since it's unanimous, I was going to ask how about this fellow Ray Beloit. Charles, will he buy forty-nine percent of The Tamarack Company?”

“No,” Charles said. “He wants it all.”

“Then we'll have to dig up someone else,” William said. “It shouldn't be hard. I must say, I'm glad we've gotten where we've gotten; I feel fine. I wasn't happy about that dinner last week; it made me nervous whenever I thought about it. I'll feel even better when we find a buyer.”

“I've already talked to someone,” Josh said. “Let me tell you about a meeting I had in Cairo a few weeks ago.” Anne sat back and watched as the conversation drew in everyone around the table, except Fred and Walter. And Keith, Anne noted; he had not participated at all, but had stared intently
at each person who spoke. His eyes were eager, his sparse beard quivered as he smiled, and he seemed the most excited of all as Josh described the Egyptian investors. The others hardly noticed him; they were absorbed in what Josh was saying. And they were pleased, Anne thought, as if, once again, they could avoid unpleasantness. She felt a moment of exasperation. When would they learn that they had to come to terms with their problems themselves, instead of letting others solve them or sweep them away? I made it too easy for them, she thought with a touch of bitterness; I ran away. I wonder what they would have done if I'd stayed around and forced them to confront me. Maybe they would have learned how to do it.

It was too late to think of that. Take them as they are, she thought; that goes with being in a family. She relaxed in her chair. She had eaten none of her dinner and she was hungry, but she could take care of that in the kitchen when they were cleaning up. While Gail and Robin and Marian cleared the table, she let herself enjoy the pleasure she always felt when her arguments swayed a jury. Of course this had not been a trial, but she thought it had been her real entry into the family. There had been one bad moment, when Gail talked about her owning no shares in Chatham Development and a remembered surge of anger and resentment had struck her, at what she had lost: her childhood, her family, a simple growing up with love and trust . . . and her heritage.

But it was done; it was over. Too late, she thought again. Some things can never be retrieved.

Josh turned to her and his shoulder brushed hers. “Will you have dinner with me tomorrow night? I want to show you my new house; it's almost finished. And there's so much I want to talk to you about before I leave for Egypt.”

Yes, Anne thought. Yes, I'll have dinner with you and visit your new house and talk to you before you leave the country. She met his eyes, close to hers, and warm; he was smiling at her. She liked sitting next to him that way, as part of the family. She had liked it that he was there, watching her change the family's decision, sharing it with her instead
of being her opponent. Yes, she thought; yes, I'd love to see you tomorrow night.

She imagined herself in his new house, walking through the empty rooms in the silence of the winter night; she saw them standing before a window, looking across the valley at Tamarack Mountain, its slopes gleaming in the moonlight like white rivers between the black pine forests, and then she felt his body touching hers, his arms around her, his mouth close to hers . . .

Her stomach knotted up; her throat tightened in terror. “No,” she blurted. “I can't. I'm sorry. I just can't. I'm sorry.”

His face changed; he pulled back. “I'm sorry, too,” he said coolly, and then it was as if he dismissed her. “You were very fine tonight; I admire your skill. I'm sure it's a good thing for all of them; I'll be interested in seeing how it plays out. If you'll excuse me . . .” He turned away as Robin brought him a cup of coffee, and he began talking to William, across the table.

Anne sat very still. That was cruel, she thought. But then, what should I expect? I keep turning him away; what can he do but turn away from me? He deserves better. He deserves at least an explanation. But she knew she could not do that. If she either had to talk about the past or close the door on a friendship with Josh Durant, then she would close the door.

But it doesn't matter, she thought. I have so much that it doesn't matter. I have tonight. Around her, everyone looked friendly. Even Walter and Fred were calmly drinking coffee and talking to the others as if everything would still work out. Charles was leaning toward Gail; he was not smiling, but his defensive look was gone. The conflict was over.

I did it, Anne thought. I won, I won. She held it to herself as she held all her victories, all the work that filled her life and gave her satisfaction. I won. That was all she needed. Marian put a plate in front of her with a wedge of pumpkin pie sprinkled with candied ginger. “Thank you, my dear Anne,” she said in a low voice. “You were wonderful and you saved us from doing a terrible thing.”

Anne looked at the pie. She and Gail had made it together; it was a symbol of her place in her family. What difference did it make that she had no shares to vote when they made their decisions, or that Josh had turned from her and was talking across the table to William? Everything was fine. There was nothing to regret.

I
t was wild,” Keith said. The telephone was propped between his ear and his shoulder, his feet were on his desk, and he was cleaning his nails with a small file. “She just, you know, ran away with it, and everybody just flip-flopped and changed their mind; it was fucking unbelievable; you could like see it happening.”

“What the hell did she say?” Vince asked.

“Not much; that's what was wild. I mean she just asked a lot of questions. And they sort of squirmed and fudged and did a little yelling and then like changed their vote. Well, they didn't really vote, they just said what they, you know, thought, like they really didn't want to sell, except, you know, like I said, they'd sell part of the company to these guys from Egypt. She asked questions and they talked and Nina kept saying ‘Oh, dear,' you know how she is, and then all of a sudden she got tough—I mean, have you ever seen Nina tough?—and sort of zeroed in on everything, and then everybody, you know, did the same and then it was all over. Unanimous. It was a blast. And it was all her. Anne. She's fucking unbelievable, you know?”