All Good Intentions

by Trudi Johnson

“It does have to do with the house, but it’s more of a question than a need for legal work.”

  “Of course.” He recognized her telltale habit of twisting her ring around and around when she felt apprehensive. He wondered what was to come.

  “I’ve been reading through some of Father’s business files you gave me, those pertaining to the house.”

  He nodded.

  “I came across a statement for work done in the early 1950s. I believe it was the replacement of the staircase. The carpenter is identified as a man by the name of Edgar Gillis,” she continued. “Is it a coincidence, or does he happen to be related to Kevin Gillis? I thought you could confirm my suspicion before I talk to Kevin again.”

  Jonathan’s throat went dry, and he reached for a glass of water that had been sitting on the edge of his desk since he arrived at work at 7:30 a.m. He took a large gulp, sending the water down his trachea and resulting in a coughing fit. He recovered as quickly as he could, although he noticed that she completely ignored his plight. “Perhaps it would be better to ask him, that is, since you’re still in touch with him about the house.”

  “I thought you might know and, as I just said, I’d prefer to know before I talk to him.”

  Jonathan leaned forward, resting his forearms on the desk. “Okay, Jeanne, for what it’s worth, yes, I believe that Edgar Gillis is Kevin’s father. Edgar was from Planter’s Bight. He was a carpenter by trade.”

  “That’s what I thought.”

  “That’s another reason why I suggested to you earlier that it’s best to stay away from him. This only reinforces what I’ve said. Clearly, the man’s not being upfront with you. Again, I must insist that you tell him you won’t be selling the house and be clear of him.”

  Jeanne was struck by the harsh tone of his directive. “Any particular reason why Kevin would not tell me the connection, do you think?”

  “None that I can think of. I don’t trust him, and neither should you. There’s really no need to go further with this.”

  She sat in momentary silence. “I guess I’ll have to ask him, since I cannot get the answers I need from you.” Her tone was markedly nasty.

  “Jeanne,” he said, exasperated, “listen to me. I think it’s best, as I’ve said, to let it go and tell Mr. Gillis that you’re not interested in selling the house to him. I’m sure you will have other offers if you give it some time.”

  Jeanne was puzzled. “I don’t understand, Jonathan. You are adamant about keeping Kevin out of this, out of my life, for that matter. I must insist that you explain your motives. Now.”

  Frustrated, he stood, came around the desk, and sat next to her. “Jeanne, for many years, I’ve had the responsibility of protecting your family, first for working for Charles and now for you. To be honest, I believe there are some pieces of information about the past that are best left there. I will be more than willing to help you with the house. I just don’t think that Kevin Gillis is the right buyer. I know that ultimately it’s your decision, but I am your counsel and I’m giving you sound advice, advice that your father would give you if he were here.”

  His final phrase resonated through her soul and inflamed her anger. “My father,” she said. “How dare you speak on behalf of my father! If he were here, he would at least give me a good reason. I will take your advice, Jonathan, when you explain why. Telling me you are trying to protect me is not enough. I need to know what you’re protecting me from. Furthermore, I don’t understand why you didn’t tell me this at the beginning. You’ve been my lawyer since I was old enough to need one.”

  “I like to think of us as close personal friends, at the very least. Perhaps more.”

  “Your point?”

  “Then you should trust me.”

  “I don’t see why information about Kevin’s father should remain a secret. After all, perhaps Kevin just wants to reconnect with the past, to understand it. That’s not unusual. You can hardly blame a person for that. If this Edgar Gillis is Kevin’s father, it’s not a problem for me. I know the man passed away several years ago. As for his telling me, Kevin certainly wasn’t obligated. It’s surprising, yes, but nothing more.” Jeanne shrugged and added, with the wave of a hand, “Perhaps he prefers to keep his personal life private.”

  Jonathan got up slowly and walked back to his chair behind his desk. “Privacy, Jeanne? Let’s not be naive,” he admonished her, “there’s no such thing as privacy anymore.”

  She was surprised by the strength of his conviction and even more so by her determination to defend Kevin. “Jonathan, my father is gone. Heaven knows I try to come to terms with that every day. But he’s no longer your client. There’s nothing left regarding him to protect. Everyone knows about his indiscretions, his relationship with Hannah West. We are almost in the twenty-first century. Surely values have changed, where that kind of thing no longer matters.”

  He peered at her. “If you truly believed that, Jeanne, you would have told your friends and family years ago what happened and who you truly are.”

  Jeanne withdrew. “I was trying to protect my father and his reputation while he was alive,” she said in a half-whisper.

  “Yes, and as you just said, he is gone.”

  They stared at each other, the truth making them both very uncomfortable.

  “Edgar Gillis worked for my father and was paid for his work. Now his son wants the house. I see no harm in considering his offer. The place has been appraised, so we know its market value.” She took her purse and stood, wrapping her scarf twice around her neck. She waited for Jonathan to follow her to the door. “I’ll let you know what I decide. In the meantime, I appreciate your assistance, Jonathan, as always,” she said, making it clear that he worked for her.

  Before she was able to open the door, he touched her arm gently and, for a moment, Jeanne paused to meet his gaze. “I just don’t want Kevin Gillis to do something that will hurt you, Jeanne,” he said softly. “You know that I took good care of you when Kurt left you. You told me then that you didn’t know what you would have done without me.”

  “That’s true, Jonathan. But you know me. When I want answers, I’ll stop at nothing.”

  Jonathan sighed heavily and let go of her arm, exasperated that he seemed to have gotten nowhere with his plea. Realizing his emotional plea would not work, he chose a stronger tactic. “Have you given any thought to what Kevin Gillis might do with the house if he bought it, Jeanne? He might decide to tear it down. How would that make you feel? Have you thought of that?”

  “No,” she said, softly, “I have not.”

  * * * * *

  Shortly after 5:00 p.m., Jeanne pulled into the parking lot of the office building that housed Joe’s architectural company. She saw his car and parked beside it.

  As she approached the main entrance, a security guard greeted her with a nod. “Do you have an appointment, ma’am? The building is closing soon.”

  She dismissed his comment. “I’m here to meet with Joe Steffensen, the architect. He’s my son and he’s expecting me,” she responded with conviction that could only be believed.

  On the fourth floor, Jeanne found Joe and Quentin sitting in the large conference room reviewing the details of a contract. They both looked up when she tapped lightly on the door.

  “I’m sorry to interrupt. I wonder if I might have a moment.”

  Quentin stood. “Of course, Jeanne. I’ll leave you both to talk.”

  “No, no, Quentin, please sit down,” she said. “This will only take a minute, and I can see that you are both in the middle of something that needs to be done. Besides, you might be able to help me.”

  Quentin pulled out a chair for her, and she sat.

  Joe glanced at his watch and moved the document to the corner of his desk. “What’s up?”

  “In the last few days, I’ve been read
ing through some of Father’s papers, those that are related to the house. I thought a new owner would want to know when it was renovated and exactly what was done over the years.”

  “That’s a good plan,” Joe commented. “Have you sold it?”

  She shook her head. “I haven’t agreed to anything yet.” She shifted in the chair. “As I was going through the papers, I came across some statements of work done by a carpenter named Edgar Gillis.” She noticed that the mention of the name was enough to garner Joe’s attention. “I was curious, so I checked with Jonathan this morning, and he confirmed that Edgar Gillis is indeed related to Kevin.”

  “Father and son?” Quentin asked.

  Jeanne nodded. “I’m assuming that Kevin is simply interested in purchasing a house that he had heard about from his father. His interest would likely be spurred on by his father’s role in maintaining the place.” She crossed her legs and sat back. “I’m not sure why he didn’t tell me, though. That is curious. Did he mention it to you, Joe?”

  Joe shook his head. “No, he did tell me that his father was a carpenter, but he didn’t tell me that he worked for Charles. Kevin seemed particularly interested in woodworking but, frankly, I didn’t think any more of it than the fact that he grew up as the son of a carpenter and that his work involves turning old homes into inns.”

  “I talked to Jonathan about it this morning. He was aware of the connection between father and son and seemed very bothered about Kevin’s failure to tell me. Furthermore, he insisted that I stay as far away from Kevin as possible. He was quite adamant. I’m not sure why, except that he seems suspicious of him and his motives.”

  Joe glanced at Quentin, then looked back at his mother with a raised eyebrow and smile. “Maybe he’s not happy that you’ve caught the attention of another man, if you know what I mean.”

  “What?”

  “Mother, I think it’s more than obvious how Jonathan feels about you. Perhaps he’s heard that you and Kevin have been having dinner together. A potential business transaction has brought you together. Perhaps Jonathan sees Kevin as competition.”

  “I doubt that has anything to do with it.”

  He sat back with a grin. “Who knows?”

  Jeanne dismissed her son’s assessment. “I found a receipt for the land in Planter’s Bight when Father bought it. I cannot help but wonder why he purchased it. Do either of you have any ideas?”

  Joe looked pensive. “My guess is he saw it as an investment opportunity at the time. He likely got it for a good price back in the 1950s.”

  Quentin’s raised eyebrow caught Jeanne’s attention.

  “Do you agree, Quentin?”

  “To a point, but I’ve been checking land values in the area. He might have bought it cheaply, as Joe says, but he also sold the land to Kevin for well below market price.”

  Jeanne leaned forward. “Quentin, you’ve thought about this, I know. Tell me, what do you think was the real reason Father bought that land and sold it back to Kevin?”

  Quentin sighed heavily, glanced at Joe, and then turned back to Jeanne, reluctant to offer an opinion. “To be honest, Jeanne, I think that your father owed the Gillis family for something that was done to them. This was no investment opportunity. This was his attempt to make right a very terrible wrong.”

  * * * * *

  Once Kevin arrived in St. John’s on Thursday evening, he contacted Jeanne and asked if he could drop by after dinner. Jeanne explained that, while she had company, they were planning to be out for the evening, so he was welcome to visit. Kevin detected a cool, evasive tone in her voice, and he wondered what had happened since their earlier phone conversation. Still, given his latest decision to stick only to a business transaction, he dismissed any concern for Jeanne’s emotions. It was not as easy as he had hoped.

  After he freshened up and changed his shirt, he grabbed his jacket and left the hotel room. Shortly after seven, he pulled into Jeanne’s driveway on Exeter. Her car was not in the driveway, but another one was.

  Carrie answered the door.

  “You must be Reverend West?”

  “Yes,” she answered, “and please call me Carrie. Come in.” She stepped back. “Jeanne had a late appointment and was a little delayed. She should be here shortly.”

  “No problem. Thank you.” When he walked into the living room and saw Hannah sitting in the corner chair, he was immediately struck by Jeanne’s resemblance to her mother. “Mrs. West,” he said, with a nod, “I’m Kevin Gillis.”

  Hannah stood. “Mr. Gillis. It’s nice to meet you. Jeanne mentioned you were coming by.”

  Wondering what they had heard about him, he took a seat closest to Hannah. “Are you here for the engagement party on Saturday night?”

  Carrie sat opposite on the sofa. “Partly. We’re also here because a member of our congregation and close friend is in hospital about to have surgery tomorrow morning. She’s worried and asked if we could sit with her tonight.”

  “I wish her the very best.”

  Carrie could sense his slight nervousness, and she was curious. She had anticipated meeting him and even being intimidated by him, but it appeared the opposite was true. “Jeanne said you’ve bought a piece of property in Planter’s Bight. That’s such a lovely area.”

  “It is. I’ve hired Joe to design the house for me.”

  “Joe’s responsible for our new church hall in Falcon Cove. We’re thrilled to have a Steffensen design, as I’m sure you are.”

  “Indeed.” He shuffled in his seat and adjusted the cushions that seemed to annoy him. “Falcon Cove, you say. The company I work for is interested in building in that area. I believe the community is called Devon Point. Are you familiar with it?”

  “We are,” Carrie answered. “It’s directly across the bay from home.”

  “I hope it becomes a reality.” Preferring they would not ask him more questions, he turned to Hannah. “Mrs. West, I’ve been told that you came into St. John’s as a young girl to work in service.”

  Hannah nodded. “That’s a long time ago. I was only seventeen.”

  “My aunt worked in service here, or ‘in place,’ as she used to call it. Hers was not a very positive experience, though. She resented her mother for the rest of her life for sending her in here to work. But then, she was only fourteen when she left home, and the family that she lived with did not treat her well. She never returned home.”

  “Some had it more difficult than others. Your aunt may not have had a choice,” Carrie commented. “Times were tough, and every dollar counted.”

  “True,” Kevin said, feeling more relaxed and self-assured.

  “Jeanne told us you’re a writer as well as a land developer. Are you working on something now?”

  “I’ve been researching many of the Water Street businessmen after the war and their management styles. I’m hoping to put it into an article, a profile of days gone by. Some of those men had power over their employees. Apparently, a few could even decide their futures.”

  Hannah wondered at his last statement. He spoke it with resentment that seemed more personal than professional.

  They heard a car door, and Kevin stood to greet Jeanne.

  “I’m sorry for being late,” she explained, as she came through the doorway into the living room. “There were delays everywhere I went today, including local road construction.”

  “Not at all. I’ve enjoyed getting to know Carrie and Mrs. West.”

  Carrie stood. “We’ll leave you alone. Mother and I are heading over to the hospital.”

  Hannah got up and reached for her sweater. “It was nice to meet you, Mr. Gillis.”

  “Thank you, and please call me Kevin.”

  Carrie turned as they were leaving to tell Jeanne they wouldn’t be long.

  Alone with Jeanne
in the living room, Kevin noticed her aloof demeanour matched her voice during their earlier phone conversation. One look at her clear blue eyes and the conviction he held when he left the Public Gardens only a few days ago seemed to fall away.

  She hardly made eye contact as she asked, “Would you like a drink?”

  “Only if we have something to celebrate. Like the sale of the house?” He smiled, but quickly noticed she did not reciprocate. “Jeanne, you didn’t sound too pleased on the phone. Now that I’m here, seeing you, I can tell something’s wrong. Are you angry with me? Has something happened?”

  She sat across from him deliberately. “No, not at all. After all, you are entitled to your privacy.”

  Kevin looked puzzled. “I don’t understand. Privacy about what?”

  “I will get right to the point. Edgar Gillis. Tell me about him.”

  Kevin felt a shot of adrenaline run through his body. “My father.”

  “Yes.”

  “How did you find out?”

  “By accident. I was going through my father’s papers. I wanted as much information as I could for the potential buyer of the house, whoever that may be. There were several boxes marked renovations, and one of the files had statements of work done by the carpenter. Edgar Gillis. Since you told me a few weeks ago that your father was a carpenter, I put it together. I talked to Jonathan, and he confirmed it.”

  I bet he did, Kevin thought.

  “Tell me everything, and this time, please don’t leave out any details.” She gave him a blank stare.

  “Do you mind if I had that drink first?”

  “Certainly.” She returned a moment later with two glasses of wine. She passed one to him and placed her own on the coffee table and then returned to her chair and waited.

  Kevin looked across the room at her. Even after an apparently busy day, she remained so perfectly put together. She wore a deep taupe linen blouse and pants, accented by a narrow white belt. Her accessories were her signature pearls. He recalled their first meeting back in June when he had assumed that a woman of such style had to be self-absorbed. He had wondered what she saw in the mornings when she stared into the bathroom mirror and began to craft her flawless makeup. Did she fancy herself a Lauren Bacall or a Grace Kelly?