Treasures

by Belva Plain

  Sue was cutting Peggy’s chicken. The care she took of Peggy was beautiful to see. Peggy was a toy for her, a pretty, movable toy. Sue sometimes has more patience with her temper tantrums than I have, reflected Lara.

  After dinner Sue and Peggy went next door to the Burkes’ and the parents took their coffee to the den. Lara looked around the comfortable room. Home. The curtains, warm, rose-flowered linen, were drawn against the evening; the sleeping sheepdog yelped once in his dreams; the children’s photographs were ranked on the bookshelves. Home. They’d planned it so well, making it so snug and orderly a place. And now total strangers had come, daring to invade, to disturb, this chosen life. Total strangers! The outrage! Could such things be allowed?

  The telephone rang and Davey picked it up.

  “Hello, Martin. Yes, he was here this afternoon. What?” He nodded to Lara. “Take the phone in the kitchen. Martin wants you to listen.”

  Martin’s voice, with its strong New York accent, had a powerful ring. “So, what happened? What did you think?”

  “The first thought that came to me, Martin, was amazement that you’re a part of this. You never told us.”

  Davey’s voice trembled, but so faintly that only Lara would be aware of it. Only she could know the sense of outrage that he was suppressing.

  “It’s a very recent involvement, that’s why. We weren’t in it at the start. Bennett switched from some other people and then came to us to do a leveraged buyout.”

  “Well, either way,” Davey said, still quietly, “it’s come as a great shock to us.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that. It’s a coincidence, that’s all. And yet, not such a strange one. We are, after all, well-known investment bankers, and P.T.C. Longwood is naturally looking for the best help it can get.” Martin spoke lightly, easily.

  If only, Lara was thinking, we could speak our minds. But there are all the ties, the ramifications, the favors we accepted. And Connie. How to endure another breach with Connie?

  “So tell me, what did you think?”

  “I thought he was an awful man.”

  Martin laughed. “I can’t disagree with that. But if you had to love everyone you met in the business world, you’d do mighty little business.”

  “True. Only, I don’t want to do business of this kind with anyone.”

  “If you don’t like the deal, I can get him to sweeten it, you know that. Leave it to me. What part of it didn’t you like?”

  “We didn’t get to any of the parts. I didn’t want to hear them. I’m not interested.”

  There was a pause until Martin said, sounding incredulous, “That’s impossible.”

  “It’s true, Martin.”

  “Listen, Davey. I realize that he must have turned you off. Nobody likes the man, but everyone admits he’s a phenomenon. In the entire corporate world there’s nobody who can even come close to what Bennett’s accomplished so fast.”

  “I believe you, but we want to keep what we have, just the way it is.”

  There was another long pause, and then Martin said, “Listen, I’m going to fly out on Saturday and see you at your house. We’re family, and we don’t talk formally in offices. Can you pick me up at the airport? I’ll phone you when I get in.”

  “Martin, we—” began Davey, but Martin had already hung up.

  Lara came in from the kitchen. “He’s so determined! I don’t want him here on Saturday.”

  “I wish he weren’t your sister’s husband. I wish he hadn’t been so good to us. Then I could tell him to go to hell.”

  The car had scarcely stopped in the driveway before Lara was at the front door, watching the two men come up the walk and scanning Davey’s face, for a hint of his mood. But on both faces there were only smiles of greeting, especially as Peggy appeared beside her at the door, shrieking.

  “Uncle Martin! What have you got for me?”

  For Martin had two white glossy boxes in either hand. During her stay with the Bergs, Peggy had quickly learned the ways of their household. She knew that whenever Martin came into a room where the children were, it was with some sort of gift, if only a few pieces of chocolate.

  “Peggy!” Lara gave the obligatory reproof. “That’s not nice!”

  Martin laughed, stooped down, and kissed the child. “For you, for all of you. I brought a box of candy, not to be opened until after lunch. And these,” he said to Lara as he put the boxes down on the floor, “are some things Connie bought in Paris for you, Peggy, and Sue. She flew over to the openings with Bitsy Maxwell for a couple of days last week.”

  Lara said the expected “Oh, she shouldn’t have!”

  Bless Connie as always! The sumptuous clothes would be nothing that anybody would wear in an average American town, but the thought and the love were there.

  Lunch was a cooperative effort. Sue had set the table very nicely with the best new china and helped Lara with the salad and the lemon custard. After a week of heavy rain the sun had come out. And from the dining room’s bow window one saw a spread of bright grass. The mild light dappled the pretty table.

  “Well, this is nice,” Martin said when they sat down.

  It is nice, Lara thought, and a pity in such a setting to be as frustrated and resentful as she was.

  “I can read,” Peggy announced, apropos of nothing at all. “Uncle Martin, did you know I can read?”

  “No,” said Martin in great surprise. “Well, that’s wonderful.”

  “I’ll show you,” Peggy said, starting to climb down from the chair.

  “No, no,” Lara ordered. “After lunch you may show how you can read, but don’t bother people now.”

  The child, surprised at the unusual reprimand, sat down. Martin promised to hear Peggy read later, and then, diplomat that he was, asked Sue how she liked school.

  “It’s pretty good. I like science and math the best.”

  “Sue keeps her grades up,” Davey said. “We never have to remind her to do her homework.”

  Martin nodded sensible approval. “It’s great that girls are going in for the sciences. There never was any reason why they shouldn’t.”

  And so the conversation went, a civilized, amiable family conversation, while all three adults pretended that there was no tension among them.

  When lunch was finished, the three went to the living room. Lara set a coffee service on the table before the sofa, and Martin settled back with a cigar.

  “Yes, yes, you’ve got a nice place,” he repeated. “Homelike. A lot more so than an apartment on Fifth Avenue.”

  Lara was inwardly amused. As if Martin would trade the Fifth Avenue apartment for this!

  “We like it,” Davy said. “But then, we’ve always lived here.”

  “It’s a good place to bring up kids,” Martin observed. “And you’ve got a beautiful family, with Peggy back to normal, thank God. Sue’s an especially appealing girl too.”

  “Yes, we’ve been lucky,” Davey acknowledged.

  There was a pause. Now that these amenities were accomplished, Lara was just wondering how long it would take to get to the point of the visit, when the point was abruptly reached.

  “Well, let’s begin. You know why I’m here,” Martin said.

  The two looked up from their coffee cups without responding. Martin cleared his throat, blew his nose, and replaced his handkerchief. It occurred to Lara that she had never before seen the man ill at ease about anything. Then to her surprise he addressed her individually.

  “I’ve never said this to you, Lara. I know Davey has a clear picture of the Longwood proposal in his mind. We had a good talk in the car. But I wondered whether you really have one. And since I know he won’t do anything without your approval, I’ve concluded that maybe you’re the reason he can’t quite make up his mind. And that’s why I’m here, to go over the whole thing in detail and specifically with you.”

  “But we have both made up our minds,” Lara said. “I thought you knew that.”

  Martin turned to Da
vey, who still said nothing, but stirred his coffee and looked thoughtful. What was the matter with him? Why did he not speak up?

  Martin began again. “Davey, I understand very well how you built this business and what it must mean to you—”

  Now Davey interrupted. “The idea for the business was actually Lara’s. I’m just an inventor. And then it was Eddy who developed it, who showed us how to run it.”

  “Oh, Eddy,” Martin said with a slight shrug.

  The shrug, however unintentioned, irked Lara, bringing her at once to the defensive. “Yes, Eddy. He never had anything but giving in his heart.”

  Martin nodded. “True. But then came greed, and it ruined him. Very sad.”

  “That’s why we mustn’t let greed ruin us,” Lara said gently enough.

  “We are digressing.” Martin laid the cigar in an ashtray and shoved the coffee cup aside. “Let us get back to my subject. I have to tell you, I won’t be able to stave this matter off. Franklin Bennett is not the easiest man in the world to deal with. Nor are all the bankers, or the lawyers. A project like this involves more people than you perhaps imagine.”

  Lara, trying to meet Davey’s eyes, had no success. He was deliberately avoiding her. It was infuriating to see him so impassive, offering no responses, no opinions; quiet man that he was, man of a few words, he could nevertheless express himself very firmly indeed, whenever he wanted to.

  Martin was waiting for someone to answer him. So she said, “Martin, I hate being negative. After all you’ve done for us! You must think I’m ungrateful, as if I’m not even decent enough to give thought to what you’ve proposed. But I have thought. We both have. Believe me when I say we’ve thought very, very deeply.”

  “You made a clear statement a moment ago, about not letting greed ruin you. You can’t have given the proposition much thought, Lara, if you can say a thing like that.”

  Still quietly, Lara persisted. “But greed is what I see in these takeovers. Wouldn’t it be greedy to sell out, to close down a plant that has brought so many jobs to this town and done so much for the town, greedy to sell out, to grab our money and run? What about Bennett himself or the money shufflers on Wall Street? Not greedy?”

  At that Davey spoke anxiously. “Lara, not everyone is—you don’t mean—she doesn’t mean,” he said to Martin, as if, Lara thought, he were apologizing for me, as if I were not responsible for my own words.

  She was not to be hushed. “I was not being personal, Martin. I was only telling you what I see is happening in this country. We don’t want to be part of it. That’s all I meant.”

  Martin flushed, and she realized that he had indeed considered himself insulted. Nevertheless, she continued.

  “Maybe you don’t understand a town like this one. People here resent it when they read about others taking golden parachutes and then abandoning everything. People giving themselves millions while their companies are drained away.”

  “Envy,” said Martin. “Envy pure and simple. It’s exaggerated and ridiculous.”

  Lara shook her head. “No, Martin, not envy. Oh, maybe some of it is, I suppose. But I’m talking about a friend from my school days whose husband works at our plant. If we close up and he loses this job, they’ll lose their house. That’s what’s happened to her sister’s family in New Jersey, and she’s terrified. If our plant closes, we’ll mangle this town, Martin. We’re the largest factory in it. So many people have come to depend on it.”

  “They can be relocated,” Martin argued. “P.T.C. Longwood has plants in Michigan and Tennessee—”

  “But they don’t want to be relocated.” She could hear the pleading in her voice. “And you know they wouldn’t relocate all of them, anyhow. You know that, and I know it. I’ve read enough about it.”

  Martin sighed and appealed to Davey. “What’s the sense of going down fighting? You can’t win, Davey. Take my word for it. You’ll be best off if you accept the buyout. Take the money, and a damn big hunk it is. Think with your wallet. Your wallet is your friend in need, and never forget it.”

  “We’re joint owners,” Davey said, indicating Lara. “We’d have to agree on anything we do.”

  “Well, you’d better come to a quick agreement. That’s all I can say.” Martin looked at his watch and stood up. “I’ve got to fly back. DeWitt, my partner, lost his wife, and the funeral’s tomorrow.” They went to the door. “If you’re the one who’s holding this up, Lara, you’re making a big mistake. Go along with Bennett, and Davey can have a big job with the company. Make an enemy of him, and you’ll regret it. Because I warn you, although I’ve told you before, when this offer is formally tendered to the stockholders, they are going to vote against you.” He made a thumbs-down gesture. “I’ve got to hurry. Will you take me back to the airport, Davey?”

  And Martin left, left in cold anger, Lara knew, scarcely shaking her hand.

  Within her also, while she waited for Davey’s return, anger mounted. By the time he came home, it was ready to erupt.

  “What do you mean,” she demanded as he came into the kitchen where she was furiously polishing silver that needed no polishing, “by letting me take the brunt of all that? You hardly opened your mouth. You acted as if you agreed with him, for God’s sake!”

  “Maybe I felt discouraged, Lara. Maybe it’s occurred to me that it’s smart to know when you’re beaten.”

  She stared at him. “I don’t believe you! Beaten!”

  “You know the prayer, ‘Lord, give me the courage to accept the things I cannot change’?”

  “I’m not ready to accept this. We can change it. We can.

  “You heard what Martin said. You heard what Eddy said when this business was first proposed. The stockholders will vote to accept Bennett’s money. You know the shares can triple in value overnight, don’t you?”

  “You can win them over if you try! You’ve always said they’re your friends.”

  At this Davey held up a weary arm. “Stop. They were my friends.”

  For a moment she was stunned. “Oh, you’re such a defeatist!” she cried then. “Do you actually want to give up? You sound as if you already have given up, as if you’re just resigned to walking away from the Davis Company. Yes, go hand everything over to that creep Bennett. I’ll tell you something, Davey Davis: If those people win I won’t take a penny of their goddamned money. I won’t.”

  “Maybe it’s you who wants to walk away. Walk away from this house and we’ll all go live in a tent, I suppose.”

  “Of course I don’t want to.”

  “Then stop talking like a child.”

  “It’s not talking like a child to say that I won’t live here with a small fortune in my pocket while the people I grew up with have lost their livelihood through our fault. I’ll fight first.”

  “Oh, fight! Big talk!” Davey glared at her. “When you’ve got a few million dollars so you can outbid Longwood’s offer and buy all the stock yourself, then come to me with your big talk about fighting. But since you haven’t got the millions, we’ll do a hell of a lot better to let them take the place and get paid so you and your kids won’t starve even if I should die tomorrow.”

  “I’d never starve. I can work.”

  “Tough talk, Lara. I didn’t know you could be so tough.”

  She was not quite sure whether this was sarcasm, but she answered nevertheless, “Well, now you’re finding out.”

  “Yes, and Martin’s finding out too.”

  “Don’t think I enjoy being at odds with my sister’s husband. It’s pretty awful.”

  This time the sarcasm was unmistakable. “Especially since he’s done a few small favors for us.”

  “One thing has nothing to do with the other.”

  “It has plenty to do with it. Think about it. If Peggy were—”

  “Now stop right there, and listen to me. A while ago when we thought she was doomed, I understand how you could say you didn’t care what happened to the plant. I didn’t agree even then, but
I understood. Now that she’s well, though, you’ve no excuse for talking like that—unless somebody’s brainwashed you or something. Yes, Martin’s brainwashed you, I see that.”

  Davey turned on his heel. “Enough. I’m going inside to lie down. Keep the kids out of the den. My head’s splitting.” At the door he paused. “This has got to be decided one way or the other, Lara.”

  “You’re right. But we’re deadlocked. We’re fifty-fifty. Deadlocked.”

  “One of us has got to give way.”

  “It won’t be me, Davey. I won’t sign anything. And it’s not only because of my social conscience. Oh, no! It’s you too—your product, your brains. I won’t give them up even if you’re willing to.”

  Davey slammed the door.

  Lara put the silver away and went outside into the waning afternoon. A chipmunk, surprised no doubt by the unexpected warmth when spring was still far off, emerged from his home in the stone wall; only his striped head with its bright black eyes was visible. Un-moving, the woman and the tiny creature observed each other. He, she thought, is probably thinking of going back for more of the birdseed that drops from the feeder, while I—what am I thinking? That I could possibly be wrong and Davey right?

  Through a gap in the hedge she could glimpse Peggy and her friend playing in the friend’s yard. The yellow jacket darted, the treble voice was lifted now in laughter. Had it ever seemed, during those dark months, that she would be running and screaming like this? Davey had lost hope, Lara thought. To tell the truth, I did, too, almost; and yet there was always something else inside me that said, Wait! It’s not over till it’s over.

  A little ruefully, she had to smile. Maybe I get that from Peg, who never stopped believing that Pop would learn to stay sober, or even—who knows—from Pop, who never stopped believing that prosperity was just around the corner.

  Presently she got up and went back indoors. Davey was still lying on the sofa, but hearing footsteps in the room, he opened his eyes.

  “Angry?” she asked.

  “Oh, I suppose not.” He never could be angry too long. “Just terribly worried.”