Authors: Mary Kay Andrews
Glenn Bayless considered her part of his family. He’d made that clear the day of her wedding to Mason, when he made a special trip to her house to tell her about his gift of stock in Quixie. No matter what Davis or Sallie thought, she too had a stake in Quixie’s future.
She waited until Sallie and Davis went into the bank, gave them a five-minute head start, and then followed them in. Sallie’s greeting to her when she entered the conference room was decidedly frosty.
Annajane was surprised to realize that for the first time she could remember, she wasn’t fazed by Sallie’s hostility toward her. “Hello, Sallie,” she said sweetly.
The conference room door opened, and all eyes were riveted in that direction. Pokey rushed in, her face flushed, her hair mussed.
She wore a brightly flowered red, yellow, and purple linen maternity tunic; yellow slacks; and spangly purple thongs, and the oversized tote slung over her shoulder was actually a green and navy quilted diaper bag.
Sallie’s eyes flickered briefly but meaningfully over her daughter’s outfit. “There you are,” Sallie drawled. “We were about to send out an all-points bulletin for you. You do know you’re ten minutes late?”
“Sorry, Mama,” Pokey said, sinking down into the empty chair between Annajane’s and Mason’s. “The sitter was late, and then I couldn’t find the car keys because Clayton had hidden them in the potty chair, and then I got stopped at the railroad crossing by a train that I swear was a mile long…”
“Never mind,” Sallie said, waving away any other excuses. “Just so you’re here. Did you tell the receptionist to let Norris know we’re all present now?”
“She knows,” Pokey said, reaching for the bottle of water sitting in front of her place at the table and taking a hefty swig. “She said to tell you he’s on the phone.”
“He needs to let one of his junior associates tend to the phones so he can tend to business,” Davis snapped. He glanced down at his watch. “I’m about over all this waiting.”
“Relax, Davis. We’ve been waiting five years,” Pokey said. “Another five minutes won’t kill us.”
“Some of us give a shit,” Davis shot back. “Some of us have a business to attend to.”
“Davis!” Sallie said sharply, laying a warning hand on his sleeve. “That’s enough.”
But Pokey was undaunted. “It’s not even ten thirty yet. No worries, Davis. You can sell off the company after lunch, and then you can hightail it to Figure Eight Island and still have plenty of time to spend your new fortune.”
“Pauline,” Sallie said sternly. “I want this unpleasantness stopped immediately.”
“Whatever,” Pokey said. “I guess we know whose side you’re on, Mama.”
“I’m not on anybody’s side,” Sallie said, struggling to retain her majestic bearing. She looked around at her three grown children. “We are all here for the same reason, and I’d appreciate it if you would all remember that. Your father would not have tolerated this petty bickering.”
“Not so petty, Mama,” Mason said. “Davis wants to sell to Jax Snax for thirty million. That’s a lot of pepperoni popcorn.”
Pokey giggled, but before Sallie could admonish her again, Norris Thomas walked into the room, a thick file folder clutched tightly under his left arm.
Annajane had met Thomas on several occasions and reflected now that he didn’t seem to have aged in the past ten years, despite the fact that he must be in his late seventies. His build was storklike, with long legs and a slight paunch in the belly. His wiry white hair stood up in tufts above his high, patrician forehead, and the silver aviator-frame glasses he’d favored for the past thirty years had come and gone back into fashion again without his notice.
Davis and Mason got up and shook hands, and Sallie, still seated, coolly offered her own hand in greeting, deliberately making the elderly attorney a supplicant, rather than the trustee of a multimillion-dollar family fortune.
Pokey stood and gave the older man a hug. “Uncle Norris,” she said. “How is Miss Faye?”
“She’s good, spoiling the grandchildren rotten, and she sends her love,” Thomas said. He turned and greeted Annajane warmly, before making his way to a chair in the middle of the table on the far side.
He cleared his throat twice, took a sip from the bottle of water at his place, and cleared his throat once more.
“All right, y’all,” he started, flipping the file open on the table. “I do apologize for being tardy.” He peered down his nose through the spectacles at the file, and then at the family members ranged around the table. “I’m happy to see that everybody is here today, and I trust that you all are enjoying good health?”
“We’re fine, Norris,” Davis said impatiently. “Busy, but fine.”
Sallie shot him a look, but Davis shook it off. “The trust, Norris. We really need to know the details of the trust Dad set up for us.”
Looking unperturbed, Norris began handing around five sheaves of stapled documents. “This is a copy for everybody concerned,” he said. “The document you now have in your hands is the irrevocable trust drawn up by Robert Glenndenning Bayless. The trust provides for the division of stock in the legal entity called Carolina Carbonated Beverage Company, or Quixie.”
As Glenn Bayless’s widow and children bent their head over the document and began leafing furiously through the pages, Norris went on.
“As you all know, Glenn was proud of his family’s ownership of Quixie, and of Quixie’s contributions to this community. His greatest wish was that the company would always stay in Passcoe and that it would be run by his heirs. This was the reasoning behind the provision mandating that the company could not be sold for a period of five years following his death.”
Norris was speaking, but Annajane was the only one listening. The others’ eyes were glued to the thick document in their hands.
Norris took a deep breath. His gaze fell on Sallie’s elegantly coiffed head, bowed over the trust agreement.
“Glenn wanted the division of the trust kept confidential for that same period of time,” he said, “for reasons he did not divulge to me, but which I might guess at. It was always his intention to have the company run by his sons, Mason and Davis.”
Davis nodded but didn’t look up, still scanning the fine print.
“But,” Norris went on, “Since you, Sallie, were provided for quite generously through Glenn’s will, with ownership of real estate, stocks, cash, jewelry, and other real property, Glenn decided to divide ownership of Quixie amongst his children.”
Sallie’s head shot up, and her eyes widened. “What exactly does that mean?”
Norris coughed again. “Well, uh, the children inherit the company.”
“Not me?” Her eyes narrowed. “Are you telling me I have no ownership in my family company? No vote in how it’s run?”
“Glenn felt,” Norris said, apologetically, “that since your commitment was to rearing your family and being active in the community, that you would not desire to be burdened at this stage in your life with ownership in the corporation.”
“That’s crazy!” Sallie cried. “Glenn depended on my advice. I was his partner, in everything!”
“Of course you were,” Norris said soothingly. “Nobody questions that.”
“Apparently he did!” Sallie cried, shoving the papers away from her. “My God! I can’t believe this.”
Davis reached over and rubbed his mother’s arm lovingly. “It’s all right, Mama. None of us will do anything about the company without your approval. You know that.”
“Of course,” Mason echoed, looking at Pokey, who said nothing.
“Well,” Norris said, “that, uh, leads us to the next matter. And I’m afraid this is going to be very awkward, but as trustee it’s my duty to follow through with Glenn’s wishes, to the letter.”
“Awkward?” Pokey looked amused. “More awkward than telling Mama she’s out of running the company?
“I’m afraid so,” Norris said, two bright spots of red blossoming high on his cheekbones. “So let’s just get to it. With the exception of the small, minority portion of stock Glenn left to you, Annajane, as his daughter-in-law, the rest of the stock is to be divided amongst the four living children of Robert Glendenning Bayless.”
“Four?” Davis said. “What the hell?”
It was as though a live wire had been poked directly into the skull of everyone sitting around the conference room table. Everyone, that is, but Annajane and Norris Thomas.
“Four,” Norris said firmly. “Mason Sheppard Bayless, Davis Woodrow Bayless, Pauline ‘Pokey’ Bayless Riggs, and, er, the minor child, Sophie Ann Bayless.”
Dead silence.
Finally, Pokey spoke up. “Uncle Norris, I don’t understand. You’re saying Daddy left stock in the company to Sophie? We didn’t even know Sophie existed until after Daddy died. And she’s Mason’s daughter. Daddy didn’t leave stock to any of the other grandchildren, did he?”
Davis was leafing furiously through the trust documents. “What kind of crazy shit is this? You’re saying Sophie, a five-year-old, for Christ’s sake, has a share in Quixie equal to mine? That can’t be.”
Norris Thomas looked pleadingly at Mason, who had been strangely quiet. “Mason, you’re going to have to help me out here.”
“Yeah,” Davis barked. “Help all of us out. Help us understand how you managed to have your illegitimate child inherit our mother’s share of the company. I wanna hear this,
brother
.”
Annajane felt something inside her stir. Mason was staring at his mother, and his eyes, riveted on hers, were filled with a sadness Annajane hadn’t seen in him since that day in the emergency room, when he’d learned of his father’s death. It was as though a fog had lifted, and she could suddenly see, with crystal logic, the meaning of everything that had happened over the past five years.
“Sophie’s not my daughter,” Mason said quietly. “Not biologically, anyway. She’s Dad’s.” He looked at Davis, and then at Pokey. “She’s our sister.” He reached across the table and took Annajane’s hand, squeezing it tightly. She squeezed it back and held on for dear life.
48
Every head in the room turned toward Sallie Bayless. “Mason, for God’s sake!” she cried, her face drained of blood.
Davis jumped from his chair, fists clenched. “What the hell kind of slimy stunt are you trying to pull here? Ain’t no way Sophie is Dad’s. And I’ll tell you what, we have all had it with your high-handed tactics. Blood or no, I am fixing to give you the ass kicking you have been begging for.”
The room was dead quiet.
Mason looked directly at his brother. “Bring it,” he said, unblinking.
Norris Thomas looked supremely uncomfortable. He coughed and cleared his throat and stared down at the stack of papers on the table.
Pokey was kneeling down beside her mother, ineffectively patting Sallie’s shoulder. “Mama, did you know anything about this? About Sophie?”
“No,” Sallie said, flinty-eyed. “And I refuse to believe it. Mason, I cannot believe you would stoop so low. To accuse your father … it’s…” She took a deep breath. “It’s an unspeakable, unforgivable lie, and I want you to take it back. This instant.”
“Um, Sallie, everybody?”
All heads swiveled toward Norris Thomas.
The elderly attorney tugged at the collar of his shirt. A fine film of perspiration beaded his forehead. “Mason is telling the truth. Sophie is the legal issue of Glenn Bayless. I understand that this is a shock to all of you, as it was a shock to me. Glenn was my oldest, most trusted friend, but I assure you, there is no doubt about the child’s paternity.”
“But, how?” Pokey asked, her voice catching.
Norris looked beseechingly in Mason’s direction. Annajane squeezed his hand and gave him an encouraging nod.
“Mama, I’m sorry,” he said, turning toward Sallie, his voice low. “I truly wish you wouldn’t have had to find out this way.”
“Mason didn’t know what was in the trust agreement,” Norris said. “I gave my word to Glenn that I would keep everything in confidence until the day I disclosed the details of the settlement.”
“Mason?” Pokey asked.
“Dad … met this woman at a car rental place. At the Jacksonville airport. Her name was Kristy. They had an, um, relationship. And she got pregnant. With Sophie.”
“Glenn was made aware of the pregnancy shortly before his death,” Norris volunteered. “We had already drawn up the trust mechanism some months earlier, after he’d experienced some cardiac issues.”
“Wait,” Pokey said. She glanced over at her mother. “Daddy had heart problems before?”
Sallie only shrugged, tight-lipped. “Of course not. Glenn was perfectly healthy, as far as I knew.”
Norris Thomas did not contradict the widow, but it was obvious that he was working from his own set of facts.
“Glenn came to me, at that time, and he was, naturally, quite embarrassed about the, um, child. We drew up a confidential document that would provide financial support for the child’s mother, and the child, of course. And at that time, Glenn determined that he wanted that unborn child to have an equal ownership share in the family company.”
“Unbelievable!” Sallie cried. “He wanted some bastard to have what belonged to
my
children, his real family? And you went along with this lunacy, Norris?”
“Dad would never do anything like that,” Davis said. “He would have never cheated on Mama. Never! This is the biggest cock-and-bull story I’ve ever heard.” He looked to Pokey. “Are you gonna let Mason sit there and defame your father like this?”
“But Daddy did cheat on her,” Pokey said sadly. “Mason and I caught him, years ago. And that’s why I can believe he cheated on her again.”
“What the
hell
are you talking about?” Davis said fiercely. “He would never. Goddamn it, Pokey! Are you in cahoots with Mason now, too?”
“It’s true,” Pokey said, watching her mother’s drawn face. “It was years and years ago. Mason and I went down to the house at Wrightsville Beach on the spur of the moment. Daddy was there, with a woman. I was just a kid, but even I knew what they were up to.”
“I don’t believe it,” Davis said. “You’ve got no proof.”
“The Chevelle,” Pokey said, blinking back tears. “Dad said he was giving it to Mason as a twenty-first-birthday gift. But it was a bribe. So he wouldn’t say anything to Mama about that girl.”