“Should you be doing that?” Touching one foot, I broke his concentration. He opened his eyes, offered a weak smile.
“Doctors’ orders.” The words came out slurred and rough. He gestured for me to take the chair. “Noah’s found his niche.”
“I agree with you about that. And, I’m amazed at your progress in only twelve hours.”
“Pain management, Mom.” He pointed to a small pack strapped on his arm. “They tell me I’ll heal better because I’ve eaten and slept well since I got home.”
I thought of Andrew as the most professionally established of our kids. He owned small rest pods in the cities where his primary clients had headquarters. Each of his places had been well decorated with identical technical and entertainment resources. That he considered Ashwood home meant a great deal to me.
“Someone from the Bureau primed me this morning about how to talk about last night.” He moved slightly, grimaced. “Truth is neither of us had any clue where that gun came from.”
He licked at lips that were dry and cracked. I picked up a water glass and held it for him. He sipped, licked his lips again before finishing his thoughts.
“Phoebe said she found it under towels in the linen shelf. Maybe the cares planted it.” He stopped, took a breath. “I wonder if the officials will take action against her.” His facial color whitened, his hands clutched the covers.
“Can I get you anything?” I put one hand on his. Our orders were to stay away from the big stories of the night before—the bloody standoff in Chicago, Milan’s rise to the Cabinet, Ahlmet’s death, my commission. The space couldn’t be certified as private as required by Milan’s people
“A magic carpet to take us forward a few days.”
He didn’t know that I had no days to waste. “Andrew, I’m calling for a family business discussion this afternoon. I wish I could wait for you and Phoebe to join us, but there are developments that make that impossible. Don’t answer me right now, but I have the sense you aren’t interested in a career with Hartford, Ltd., Is there any way you would like to be involved with the business?”
“I’ve been thinking about that since I arrived.” He stopped, tapped at the pain pack, took a shallow breath. “You know my father left me enough resources to provide for a family and have a nice life. I would appreciate some land here to build a house of my own.” His eyes fluttered, probably from the medication. “If there’s room on the board, I’d appreciate consideration.”
“Consider it done. We’ll work out details later. It’ll be a plus to have your experience and instincts.” His eyelids drooped. “You need to rest. I’ll be back around lunch.”
Phoebe’s surgery, while delicate, had been far less extensive. Years of poor eating, a lack of sleep and chemicals introduced by the Corps would suggest a longer recovery. Her beautiful curls contrasted with the white pillow cover. More premature gray hairs appeared in her hair and some thinning near the crown. She looked vulnerable.
“Mom?” One hand rose off the bed as she opened her eyes. A small groan followed as if any movement triggered discomfort. “I missed you this morning. I kind of hoped you’d be here when I woke up.”
“I was here. You were pretty drugged and don’t remember.” I took her hand in mine, raised it to my lips for a small kiss. “You had a tough night.”
Tears brightened her eyes and slipped down her cheeks like when she was an infant. I wiped her face and offered encouragement that she rest.
“Can you forgive me?”
“You weren’t yourself, Phoebe. When you’ve recuperated, you’ll be able to live without fear of Ahlmet’s control. Just think of that. Better yet, go to sleep and dream about it.”
“No one will let me see Andrew and I can’t really rest until he comes to see me. Is he okay?”
Frances’s words about Phoebe’s narcissism pinged in my mind as I reported on Andrew’s recovery with a reminder that he was barely a half-day out of surgery and still on a limited visiting schedule. She nodded and appeared to fall asleep. We would have to talk about the future of Hartford, Ltd., without her input.
Phoebe was used to life with cares and watchers and handlers, but I had much to learn about moving with others’ eyes on me. I took the inside residence steps and headed toward our room for a nap. The world could be put on hold for two hours.
I folded my clothes on a chair and kicked my shoes underneath. The sheets felt cool, the pillow a perfect combination of soft and supportive. I rolled to my right and gazed across David’s side of the bed at the table with his favorite picture of our kids taken when Faith was a toddler. I began a simple meditation to slow my mind when a small circle of a mismatched wall color came into view, a visual monitor.
Sleep was elusive. We had motion detection monitors in all our sleeping rooms instead of viewers. I wondered if a government tracking tag would be placed under my skin in D.C., tried for a more comfortable position and started the meditation process over.
The door opened. David, who knew I was asleep or just pretending, sat on the bed. “Annie, we need to talk before the family summit.” He rubbed my shoulder.
“If you keep doing that I might fall asleep.” I pulled an arm out from under the sheet and stretched. “After I saw that damn visual monitor I couldn’t settle my mind. Let me pull on my clothes.”
“Don’t get up. I told Lao you wouldn’t be happy about the visuals. We had them all over the house when you arrived.”
“And the first thing I did in my rooms was turn it to motion only. Even then I couldn’t sleep with a viewer.” I stood, shrugged on a simple dress. “I suppose I’ll need to upgrade my wardrobe for D.C. Maybe Faith and I can spend a night in the cities.” Dressed, I sat in the reading chair so old it curved to my body’s impression. “Let’s talk.”
“You were right about goading me into a larger role in Hartford, Ltd., but I balked for a lot of selfish reasons. Looks like I don’t get to hang back any longer. How does chairman of the board sit on your shoulders if I slip into the CEO seat?” His tone was light, his face serious. “Is that what was on your mind?”
“I would add interim to CEO.”
David shook his head. “I’m not comfortable with that. I want you to be free to consider other opportunities that might come out of this commission. If you decide to return to our business, Hartford, Ltd., can use a more active chairman with attention on strategic possibilities.”
How would I permanently release the only responsibility more demanding than parenting? David watched as I thought through my answer. My husband was brilliant intellectually, led complex project teams working on different continents, grew up in agriculture and understood working with nature. He knew Hartford, Ltd., in ways an outsider could not quickly assimilate.
“Before this commission issue, the management model I had in mind was something more collaborative. I thought you might take over more of the operations side and I would stay connected to strategy and marketing.” Organization charts in my top drawer might help us think a layer down the management ladder, but David’s proposal met today’s needs. “You are right. I will bow out of day-to-day management. As quickly as possible. Congratulations CEO Regan.”
“It will all work, Annie. You’ll still be my boss.”
I laughed out loud at the thought of bossing my husband around on any level, then matched his seriousness. “I’ve been thinking it’s time for Hartford, Ltd., to have a real board with external directors. Let’s have lunch. I’m curious about what else you’ve been thinking.”
He stood first and reached out a hand to me. “So you know, the visual imaging monitor can be turned off for half hour increments with a code that Lao left in my side table drawer.”
“The CEO sleeping with the chairman of the board might be called nepotism and there would be a permanent record,” I joked.
“That�
��s why Hartford, Ltd., was set up as a private, family-owned business. So you could have the power to boss all of us at least forty hours a week.”
Chapter 35
We carried lunch to the screen porch, both of us hoping fresh air might refresh our tired brains. Like his parents, David drank hot coffee all day all year round. We talked about the kids’ recovery progress and Andrew’s request for land and a directorship. Clarissa sent me six messages from Washington, D.C., during the first fifteen minutes.
“Who gets Clarissa,” David said with an absolutely straight face. “It would be good for you to have a familiar person watching your back, but I’m not sure she’d be open to D.C.”
“I think she needs to stay here. She knows where to find everything, the history of most purchases, how to get ordinary things done at the regional or state level. We agree she is a good judge of people, including the staff.” I talked myself into leaving Clarissa behind. “Guess I’ll be going it alone.”
“There might be a few of my former DOE analysts who would jump at the chance to work close to the White House.” David put down his coffee cup. “Do you think you’ll be near the inner circle?”
“David, really. I’ll be building a new ethics review for a bureau. If I meet the president, it’ll probably be with a few hundred other people in a reception line.”
He gave me a look that implied I was clueless about the months ahead. My previous time in Washington, D.C., was as a poor trainee in a federal program during the end of the depression. The closest I’d been to the White House was a private tour for David and I after his return from the Paraguay abduction. A savvy business owner, I suspected that I’d also be a country bumpkin in shark-infested political waters.
“Raima is reviewing a stack of paperwork.” I yawned and felt my jaw might not close. “I think I read something about signing a Patriot Pledge and maybe a vow of celibacy.”
“Phoebe wants to see us.” David was on his feet before his communicator quieted. My joke stayed behind with the remains of lunch.
A brown suit drifted behind us as we made our way through the residence. I glanced back two or three times. The broad-shouldered security agent slowed when we slowed. “Why don’t you just walk with us,” I asked over my shoulder. “We may as well introduce ourselves and tell you where I’m going.”
“Not protocol, ma’am. That would be a distraction.”
“Well, you’re not going to blend into the crowd in our home.” David pulled on my elbow. “I’ll get used to being protected from people I see every day.”
“Don’t make it difficult for the guy,” David said in a low voice. “He’s doing his job. They know more about how you live than you’d want to believe. Don’t think about it.”
People fed me, washed my clothes, and cleaned the rooms where I worked or rested. Not that many years ago I was self-conscious about having others do the fundamental work. I decided I could become comfortable with their protection, particularly if it meant I no longer had to drive.
Still weak and tethered to a hospital bed by oxygen tubes, Phoebe had improved. She pushed aside the tall cup held by an aide when we saw us. Her eyes widened as David picked up one hand and kissed it. “How’s my girl doing?” he asked. She raised a shoulder, lowered it.
“You’re looking better, Phoebs.” I stood next to David. “Dr. Frances says you’re doing well, but how do you feel?”
She held onto my hand, pulled me closer. “I’m very tired and I hurt.”
To hear her thready voice, we had to bend close. “I have something I need to tell both of you.” Her cracked lips pained me. “Noah told me you’re having a family meeting about Hartford this afternoon. I want to do what we talked about within the foundation.”
“Milan is now heading the Bureau and there will be changes in the Intellectual Corps. You can work in the private sector on work of value to advancement of the United States.” I felt David staring at me as I spoke to Phoebe, upset I had not shared this with him earlier. “So you have choices. Things will be quite different with Milan at the helm.” I used a tissue to gently wipe her face of a slow flow of tears. Again I held back news about Ahlmet.
“Amen.” David’s simple response sounded above the medical monitors and equipment.
Phoebe didn’t ask for details. “That’s good. Milan will have to approve the Regan research plan.”
“No, your choice is in your hands, Phoebs.” I dabbed more at her tears. “There have been deep changes. When you’re stronger, you can read all about it.”
“I’m too tired to talk. I needed you both to know I want in on the new venture. And I want a full research lab. I’ll help pay for that, Mom. It has to be the best.” She looked at David. “You know what a lab needs.”
“I do. We’ll take that into our planning.”
“And, I’m not sure I want it to be here.” Her eyes closed. “Somewhere on Lake Michigan. North. Far north. Nowhere near a big city.” She raised one hand, dismissing us.
I leaned over and kissed her forehead. Her hand touched my chin.
“Thanks, Mom. Sorry, I got to sleep.”
“Do that, sweetheart.”
David headed out. I settled her hand back on the bed and followed him toward Andrew’s corner of the large room. With the head of the bed elevated and pillows behind his head, Andrew sat propped up holding a covered mug. A tray with light foods straddled his body.
“Helluva routine,” he said pointing to the tray. “I sleep, eat, sleep.”
“Why does Phoebe want to live in Wisconsin?” David’s lack of greeting surprised me, but Andrew took the question calmly. “She wants in the Giant Pines research plan, but with her labs on Lake Michigan. And, you want land here. What’s up?”
“Better for a research group focusing on clean water to be located near a polluted great lake?” Andrew sighed. “Your small group that services clients using Tia Regan’s technology is based in a place called Fish Creek. Phoebe said they tell her that she wouldn’t have to fight to find good lab workers.”
David looked ready to press for more understanding, but I reminded him that Andrew was in a hospital bed.
“Phoeb and I call Ashwood home and we’d like to build here.” Andrew volunteered. “Think about it, she came here to continue her work. People don’t have to be where their labs are unless they are lab scientists. She’s not in any shape to fully articulate her plan.”
“Of course.” David murmured. He rubbed the back of his neck. “I got ahead of myself.”
“We’re going to get out of here and let you finish your lunch.” I wiggled his big toe. “Every time I see you I’m more encouraged.”
“The doctors say I’ll be in here about a week and could be laid up for a couple of months after that.” Fortunately he escaped serious internal injuries, but there was trauma and a lung that was causing concern. “They already notified my boss. Hope you don’t mind an extended stay.”
“Not at all.” I thought about asking for an extension on my Washington, D.C., report date, but knew Andrew should be well out of physical danger in three weeks. “I’ll be back later.”
David waited for me in the hall, standing at a window with his hands in his pockets. He looked younger than his age, yet I wondered if he had ten to twelve hours of energy each day to keep up with Harford’s demands.
“I don’t understand their relationship or her demands.” David kept his voice low in a hall famous for amplifying even a small sneeze. “Property on Lake Michigan’s northern shore will cost millions, equipping a lab an equal amount, and we don’t have a clue about what she wants to study or if it will be commercially viable.”
“Here’s something Frances said to me last night—the life that Phoebe leads feeds narcissism. Think of the Bureau doing everything necessary to keep her research and bodily needs satisfied.” I paused to pull
my next words together with care. “Andrew knows what he wants. I hope he understands the implications of Phoebe’s situation.”
“I’m with you on that. As much as I would love to see Phoebe spend her life with someone as decent and stable as Andrew, I also want our guy to have a peaceful life and family. She’s a most unlikely candidate for parenthood. Kind of like her mother.” He stopped talking. Should have stopped one sentence earlier.
We walked up the stairs to the residence’s main floor in silence.
“Clarissa is asking me to review my mail,” I said as we walked through the busy hall leading to the dining room. “I’ll see you in about ninety minutes.”
“Shouldn’t we be going over business matters before the meeting?”
“I sent you the entire business file on re-organization as a refresher. For this level of discussion that’s plenty. No reason to overprepare.” I affectionately squeezed his arm.
“We can walk over together.” I could tell by his voice that his mind was moving to other concerns.
“Sorry to throw you into this head first, David.”
“No problem. I’ve been thrown into a lot of major projects in my career with a lot less knowledge. I’m more concerned about how we’ll all get along without you here.”
“Holograms, communicators, and mail. I’ll be back for long weekends. That’s more time together than during most of your foreign assignments.” I activated the office door and waved him in first. A brown suit waited behind us. “It will be strange to have a place that is only mine.”
“You’ll love not having to share a bathroom.”
“Spoken by the one who hogs the shower.” I yawned, headed to pour myself a cup of coffee before sitting down to read mail.
Clarissa prioritized everything according to subject, marked time-sensitive, and items already handled. A new confidential folder appeared that I wouldn’t be able to access until I accepted my commission by filing completed forms.
Leaving Ashwood Page 22
