“Good morning, Astrid,” Ross replied. He knew Astrid’s real name was Josephine Takowsky because he’d seen her employment application. Josephine preferred to be called Astrid Hershey, and that’s what the bronze nameplate on the glass-topped desk read. “Everyone wants to be someone else, including me,” Ross muttered as he made his way down the hall to his office.
Here too, renovations had taken place. The desks were polished light oak, the swivel chairs comfortable, with burlap-type fabric. A cluster of green plants filled one corner near the window. Woo watered them every Friday night. More than once Ross had seen the big man pick off dry leaves and spritz the plant with something that looked like a perfume atomizer.
Ross looked down at his desk, which was so tidy, he knew the cleaning lady had been in earlier. He assumed the manila envelope catty-corner on the green blotter was from his father. He could just picture Jasper standing in the open doorway tossing the envelope onto the desk. He would have dusted his hands and walked out of the building without a backward glance. Ross wished he didn’t have to look at it, wished he didn’t have to take it down to his mother’s office, wished it would all go away. He sat down and opened the envelope. His eyes expertly scanned the papers in front of him. Then he laughed so hard and long, Woo came on the run.
“What’s going on?” the big man demanded anxiously. Ross handed the sheaf of papers to his friend, who quickly scanned them. “I’m glad I’m not you,” Woo said quietly.
“Hell, Woo, this is one of those rare times when I’m glad I am me. I can’t wait to see my mother’s face when I show her this. Wanna come with me?”
“I respectfully decline the invitation on the grounds that I might embarrass us both. Good luck, Ross.”
By God, maybe it was going to be a good day after all.
Ross jerked at his tie, removed his jacket, hung it over the back of the swivel chair and then rolled up his sleeves to the middle of his arm. He stacked the papers neatly before sliding them back into the manila envelope. He was still smiling when he reached his mother’s office. He wiped the smile from his face the same moment he rapped sharply on the door and then opened it. His mother, for some strange reason, didn’t insist on formality.
“Ross, just the person I wanted to see,” Justine said cheerfully.
Ross blinked at his mother’s severe hairdo, at the pinstripe business suit and crisp white shirt complete with string tie. She was heavily made-up. He almost asked her if she was vying with Astrid for the dead mannequin look. Be charitable, he told himself, this is probably what the well-dressed businesswoman wore to the office.
“What do you want to see me about?” Ross asked, shifting the envelope from his right hand to his left hand.
“If you’d been here at eight o’clock for our weekly meeting, I wouldn’t have to go over it a second time. I wish you would join this team, Ross. You can’t continue to be so aloof. This is a joint effort, we’re all working toward the same goal, to outsell and outpublish Confidential. Actually, it’s about Lena. This girl is so motivated she takes my breath away. The production meeting was more than beneficial. I gave her the go-ahead on the Duke and Duchess of Windsor story. You won’t believe the dirt she’s managed to dig up. And it’s our exclusive. Of course, we have to pay for it, and she also wants a bonus. I agreed, subject to your approval, of course.”
“Is this above and beyond the bonus system you outlined previously?” Ross asked coolly, sitting down in a chair facing the desk.
“Yes, it is,” Justine replied.
“Then my answer is no.”
“On what grounds?” Justine snapped.
“On the grounds she’s no one special. She does her job like everyone else. Do you want a mutiny on your hands? No good businessperson changes course in midstream.”
“She can sell the story someplace else and get top dollar.”
“No, she can’t, Mother. She signed a contract with us. That’s why you hired me, to protect you and the magazine. A year from now, when her contract comes up for renewal, she can threaten to take her material somewhere else, but not if she got it while she was working for us. I tied her and every other reporter up pretty tight. Woo dotted all the i’s and crossed all the t’s. If you agreed, you’ll have to tell her it’s no deal.” Justine seethed. “I find this all very strange. The girl inferred that you and she were . . . what she said was . . .”
“Yes, Mother?” Ross said coldly.
“Perhaps it was my imagination, but I thought she said you were considering an engagement. She didn’t say it in so many words, but I can read between the lines. Are you saying it isn’t true? I was trying to be kind and nice to her for your sake.”
“Mother, I am still married. Do you really think I would do such a thing until the divorce is final? I wouldn’t. We’ve dated, but that’s about all we’ve done. Don’t poke into my personal life.”
“Very well, Ross. When will that divorce become final?”
“When I want it to become final. Don’t concern yourself, Mother. You never approved of Jory or our marriage, so please don’t pretend interest now.” He tossed the envelope onto her desk.
“What’s this?”
“Father dropped it off last evening.” Ross sat down and crossed his legs to wait for the explosion he knew was coming. He fired up a cigarette and stared at his mother through a cloud of smoke.
“You approve of this?” Justine said tightly.
“It’s not up to me to approve or disapprove, Mother. It’s in order, it’s legal, and there my responsibility ends. It’s what you asked for. With a few strings. Now, if you want to negotiate, you can. As your attorney I wouldn’t advise it, but you can do as you please.”
“This is . . . blackmail. This is indecent, it’s highway robbery. It can’t be legal. Why didn’t you protect my interests? I see, you’re on your father’s side.”
“No, Mother, I’m not. You wanted to cut a deal with Father, and he agreed.”
“This building is TIF. How can he charge me rent? Five thousand a month! Tell him to go to hell!”
“This is the Landers Building. TIF has always leased the premises from the corporation. Now that the building has been transferred to a new owner, you will be paying a new landlord. It’s really very simple and very, very legal.”
“I wanted this building!” Justine hissed.
“Then you should have asked for the building, Mother. You asked for TIF. Father has given it to you, lock, stock, and barrel. It’s yours. No one can take it from you. You are the sole owner and publisher of TIF, but you do not own the building.”
“Who the hell owns it?” Justine stormed. “What? Are you telling me Marjory Landers Ryan owns this building? Don’t dare to tell me that, Ross! That is unacceptable. Totally unacceptable. You go back and tell Jasper it’s no deal. Why would he do such a thing?” she wailed miserably.
“I believe it’s all written down. Try the third page from the back. He goes into detail. If you agree, I’ll go over to the courthouse after lunch and file the deed. If you disagree, you’ll have to take it up with Father. If it’s any consolation to you, Mother, I didn’t know about this until a few minutes ago. I don’t believe I’m being premature when I tell you I think this is a take it or leave it deal.”
“So that’s why she came back here. I should have known something was going on when I heard she’d taken over Jake’s house and set up shop. Damn, I always liked that girl. She had guts,” Justine blustered.
“Jory doesn’t know, Mother. That’s on the third page too.”
Justine quickly scanned the page, then said icily, “This says that this building is being deeded to Marjory Ryan for all the mental anguish she suffered for the loss of her child and for sticking to her end of her bargain. And for agreeing to an uncontested divorce and no settlement. This is a goddamn settlement. Ross, say something.”
“It’s fair and it’s legal. What else can I say? I was as surprised as you are. I think it’s fair. I treated Jory t
erribly, Mother. She’s been very kind and generous about all of this. She’s going to be very shocked when she hears about Father’s generosity.”
“I damn well doubt that. Five thousand a month will help rid her of any shock. That’s sixty thousand a year!”
Ross grinned. “A princely sum.”
“I fail to see the humor in this, Ross. As Jory’s husband, that means you are entitled to your half. You are on your father’s side, you ungrateful snot!” Justine continued to bluster.
“My name is not Ryan, Mother. Jory took back her maiden name. The divorce is going through, it just takes time. I do not benefit from this in any way. Father is trying to straighten things out. He said when your separation becomes legal, he’ll—”
“What separation!” Justine screamed. She was out of her chair, and around her desk in a second, to stand towering over her son. “What separation?”
“I assumed you knew, Mother. I’m sorry. Father told me last night when I stopped by the house. You weren’t home. It’s his way of absolving himself of this . . . business venture. Perhaps you should call him and arrange to sit down and discuss matters. There’s no hurry in filing the deed. It’s your call, Mother. If there’s nothing else, I have work to attend to.”
“You sold me out, Ross—my own son. You’ll never convince me otherwise,” Justine said, returning to her chair, then glancing at him across her desk.
“You’re wrong, Mother, but when did you ever listen to a thing I said?” Ross said sadly.
Back in his office, Ross noted that Woo had left for lunch. At odds now with what was going on, he kicked at the chair, bringing it toward him. He flopped down. He could see his reflection in the window across the room. He definitely did not look like a successful attorney. More like a wayward bum. At some point he must have raked at his hair, for it was standing on end. He smoothed it down.
What the hell was his father up to? Was he simply trying to make things right with Jory, as he said, or did the old rascal have an ulterior motive? If so, what was it? Who was going to notify Jory of his father’s generous bequest? What would happen if she didn’t accept Jasper’s indulgent present, and it was indeed a present. He tried to put himself in Jory’s place, tried to think as she would. He failed miserably. He didn’t know his wife well enough to guess what she would do. Would she come down on the first of the month with the four dogs on their colored strings to collect the rent? The thought was so funny he burst into loud laughter. He was still laughing when his mother buzzed him and said, “File the fucking deed. I’ll deal with your father in my own way.”
Ross’s fist pounded the desk. He hated to hear a woman use profanity, especially his mother. When he was younger, he’d tried to tell her it sounded terrible, especially in front of his friends. She seemed to take pleasure in doing it all the more. He’d gone to his father, who never so much as said a “damn,” and asked him to intercede. He was told in his father’s weary voice that his mother was not a lady like his friends’ mothers. After that he didn’t bring his friends home anymore. He’d carried it one step further and cultivated friends whose mothers were more like his own. Those friendships hadn’t really worked out either because all they had done was bitch and moan about their parents and getting into trouble.
“A penny for your thoughts,” Lena said quietly from the doorway.
“Right now they aren’t worth that much,” Ross said ruefully. He waited, fully expecting Lena to chastise him for his decision concerning her bonus. Or was it too soon for her to know? No, his mother would have told her immediately. He eyed her handbag. “Going somewhere?”
She grinned. “Hot lead. I just wanted to check on what time you’re picking me up this evening.”
“Seven okay?” He stifled a laugh. She’d zap home then or she’d get him in bed and work her wiles on him. “Womanly wiles” was a term his father used often.
“See you then. There’s a great movie at the Roxy. Think about it, okay?”
“Sure. Lena?”
“Yes.”
“Business is business and pleasure is pleasure. They’re two different things. I don’t want either one of us to confuse them now or at some point in the future.”
Lena’s eyes narrowed imperceptibly. “Please don’t be silly, Ross. You can’t blame me for trying, can you?”
“Guess not,” he said airily. “Don’t do it again. My mother feeds on stuff like that. I don’t.”
“Understood. See you tonight.” She blew him a kiss that Ross did not return.
“So how’d it go with your mother?” Woo asked after Lena was gone. “I’ve been standing in the hall waiting for her to leave.”
“All things considered, not too bad. Justine’s going to deal with Jasper on her own. That could mean just about anything. Actually, Woo, I think this whole thing is funny as hell, and I’ll be damned if I know why it’s funny. Before you came in I was sitting here imagining Jory showing up on the first of the month with those four dogs on their colored strings to collect the rent.”
“How’d you know about that? Have you seen Jory?” Woo asked casually.
“I saw her this morning before I came to work. Some divorce stuff. Our conversation lasted all of five minutes. Those dogs do create a ruckus, but I guess you know that already.”
“I haven’t seen Jory since I moved in,” Woo said. “Have things changed with you two?”
“No. Status quo.”
“Do you want things to change, Ross? I’m asking friend to friend. I’m not being nosy.”
“It’s too late for all that. Guess you’re going to have to hold down the fort. I have to go over to the courthouse and file the deed. I need to get in touch with my father and find out who’s going to notify Jory of her . . . what’s the word here, inheritance?”
Woo’s homely face split into a wide grin. “Don’t look at me. You rich people do things differently than us ordinary folk. I’m sure there’s some kind of protocol involved. I trust you to find out what it is.”
“Do you think she’ll take it, Woo?”
“She’d be a fool not to,” Woo said carefully.
“You didn’t answer my question. Do you think she’ll take it?”
“No. Yes. Hell, I don’t know. If she gave you back the money you’ve been sending her, why would she keep the building?”
“That’s a good question. It’s hers for her lifetime. She can’t sell it. It’s a cushion for her if things don’t go well. Single women have a hard time of it, according to my father. Lately, he . . . he’s different.”
Before he could stop himself, Woo blurted, “Maybe you never took the time to get to know him either.” Then: “Jesus, Ross, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that. This is none of my business. Forget I said anything, okay?”
Their friendship was already starting to deteriorate; Ross could sense it. “Don’t apologize for being right, Woo.”
“I apologized for saying it aloud, not for thinking it, Ross. By your own admission, you didn’t know your wife. And on many occasions you told me you didn’t know the first thing about your father. You said he was weak and ineffectual. What he’s been doing lately contradicts all those statements you made. At least in my eyes. I spoke out of turn and it won’t happen again. I have no intention of getting involved in your family’s business.”
“You are involved. You work here, you live on my wife’s property.”
“Key words here—wife’s property, not yours. Your mother signs my paychecks. Is this going to be a problem, Ross?”
“I’m a little tense right now, Woo. Let’s just forget this whole conversation ever took place.”
“Fine with me.”
It was happening, things were changing. Ross felt like crying.
CHAPTER SEVEN
On September 14, 1953, two days after Senator Jack Kennedy married Jacqueline Lee Bouvier, Jory Ryan opened a letter from the Philadelphia Democrat congratulating her on her new title of Auntie Ann. The job was hers, the letter said, if s
he wanted it. She was to respond by Friday the eighteenth of September, four days from now. The letter went on to say the editorial staff overwhelmingly voted to run the column three times a week instead of the initial run in the Neighborhood Life section on the weekend. An office, and then in parenthesis “cubbyhole,” would be provided if she wanted to work at the paper instead of out of her house. The decision would be left up to her.
“I got it! I got it!” Jory chortled to the bemused dogs, who were silent for once, their dark eyes plastered on their exuberant mistress, who was dancing around the kitchen.
“I don’t care if it’s nine-thirty in the morning, cookies for everyone. Ice cream for me. I’m a reporter! I have a column! I get to work at home and take care of you guys. We aren’t going to starve! Well, we won’t starve, but things are going to be lean. Ten dollars a column won’t get us very far. I’ll mix noodles with your food and I’ll eat hamburgers. God, I can’t believe this! I wish there was someone I could tell, someone to share this with.” Her exuberant mood dampened slightly, then lifted. A secret was more wonderful.
While the dogs gobbled their treats and she gobbled her dish of butterscotch ice cream, Jory’s mind raced. She wasn’t going to wait till Friday. She was going to change her clothes and go into town right now and accept the position, and then she was going to treat herself to lunch. Lord, it was all so wonderful! Thank God, this move back to Chestnut Hill wasn’t a mistake. “I’m going to be the best Auntie Ann the Democrat ever had,” she said to the dogs. “If they haven’t had one, I’ll set a precedent.” She raised her eyes. “Thank you, God, thank you, God,” she said over and over as she made her way up the stairs, the puppies struggling with the steps.
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