How long had it been since he’d just enjoyed an afternoon?
There always seemed to be something that needed doing. Not just at Cooper Industries, but in each of the executive positions he’d held around different parts of the country. Actually, he had something to do now, too...talk to Karin. The question was how to engage a teenager in conversation without “creeping her out” as Skylar had warned.
“Mr. Hollister?” said a voice.
Aaron opened his eyes. “Yes, Karin?”
“Thank you for inviting Mom and me to come today.”
“Not at all. It’s...uh...much more fun with company. And please, call me Aaron.”
“Okay.”
“Karin, I’ve wanted to apologize for the way I acted about Melanie going to the Nibble Nook to study,” he said awkwardly. “Please understand, it had nothing to do with you.”
“That’s what Mom said.”
“What else did she say?”
“Mostly that you had the wrong idea about the Nibble Nook and would figure it out sooner or later.” She looked over at her mother and Melanie, who were taking a walk along the river. “Mellie says you went to college at UCLA. That’s where I want to go, too.”
“It’s a good school. You’ll do great there.”
“That what my dad always told me. He used to...” She stopped and bit her lip.
“What about your dad?” Aaron prompted. He wasn’t certain he wanted to hear about Jimmie Gibson, but if that was what Karin wanted to talk about, he was going to listen.
“He...he used to say dreaming is important, but doing can change the world.”
“He sounds like a great guy.”
“Yeah. Whenever I think of him, he’s smiling. Dad laughed a lot, and he made Mom laugh, too.” Karin glanced quickly toward Skylar again and sniffed. “I sure miss him.”
Aaron wished he had something comforting to say, but he’d never lost someone special and couldn’t pretend to know how she felt. “I guess...that is, it doesn’t seem fair, does it?”
“No.” She let out a huge sigh. “And sometimes I get awful mad.”
“I don’t blame you. I’d be angry, too.”
Skylar and Melanie were walking back, and Karin leaned closer. “Don’t tell Mom I was talking about my dad. It makes her sad. Promise?”
It seemed important to her, and Aaron figured it wouldn’t do any harm to keep the small confidence from Skylar. “I promise. Why don’t we get ready to go?”
Karin nodded, and they had everything packed within a few minutes, so all his sister and Skylar had to do was help push the rope-linked inner tubes back into the water.
Aaron was grateful that Skylar and the girls didn’t say anything to him as they got underway. He had more than his lunch to digest, including a disturbing conviction that Jimmie Gibson had been a better father than he could ever hope to be.
* * *
SKYLAR HOPED SHE hadn’t made a mistake, going with Melanie on a short walk to give Aaron a chance to talk with Karin. He probably believed she’d prejudiced her daughter against him, but she hadn’t, at least not consciously. If anything, she’d wanted to avoid talking about him altogether.
She didn’t know what to think of Aaron’s father, though she did believe S. S. Hollister was capable of contacting her without telling anybody. His motives were less clear—he hadn’t mentioned wanting to help her and Karin; he’d just acted smug and condescending.
The afternoon air was losing its warmth as they neared a broad bend of the river, where the man from Fun in the Sun Water Equipment was waiting. Melanie and Karin obviously wished the rafting could go on forever, but Skylar was glad to get out and wrap up in a beach towel. Autumn had been unseasonably late arriving, but there was a bite in the air that told her it was finally here.
However, at the sight of a stretch limousine waiting, she turned to Aaron and raised an eyebrow.
“We needed a ride back to my car,” he explained.
“I said nothing extravagant.”
“It’s just a limo, and it was easier and more practical than calling for a taxi and having to wait.”
She decided to let it go, and the teenagers instantly scrambled into the luxury vehicle to explore the “bar,” obviously stocked specially for underage riders, with a hot-chocolate maker and snack foods. They quickly made cups of cocoa mounded with real whipped cream and sprinkled with cinnamon, laughing as it got on their noses when they tried to drink. If their other friends had been there, they might have felt compelled to act blasé, but with just the two of them, they were free to enjoy.
“Hey, you two, first things first,” Skylar said, tossing beach towels and their clothes into them.
They took their time, sipping cocoa and eating junk food, in between drying themselves with the towels and squirming into their jeans and T-shirts.
Skylar shimmied into her own outer garments and gestured toward the limo. “You think that’s practical?” she asked. “They’re going to be on a sugar high for the rest of the day.”
“I ordered a few extras, that’s all.”
She buttoned her jeans and blotted the damp length of her French braid with a towel. “You can’t help it, can you? A fully stocked limo for a drive of a few miles—that’s the sort of thing you think is normal.”
“I’m not spoiled—I work hard,” Aaron said seriously. “I could live extremely well on my trust fund, but I earned my way into a top CEO position, in companies unconnected to my family. Taking over Cooper Industries is rather like being asked to become Captain of the Titanic ten minutes after hitting the iceberg.”
Skylar folded the towel over her arm. “Are things that bad?”
“They’re bad enough. Damn it, Skylar, I can’t figure out why my grandfather didn’t keep the factory updated—the equipment, the buildings, nothing done for thirty years. He wasn’t saving a fund for the future, either. George is a smart man—he surely knew that was a poor way to do business.”
“Maybe it was his age. He worked twenty years past the time when most people retire.”
“Maybe.”
Aaron sat on a fallen log and ran his fingers through his damp hair. He looked so endearingly young and perplexed that Skylar couldn’t help seeing the resemblance to Karin. Her tension level, already high, shot skyward.
She sat on the other end of the log and gazed at the river flowing by. It was beautiful and tranquil, oblivious to human concerns, and for a brief moment, drifting along in the sunshine on the inner tube, she’d been at peace.
“The factory has gone through multiple transformations over the years,” Aaron muttered, “with every Cooper president adjusting to changing times. Why not George? He did it as a young man when he took charge after his own father’s retirement.”
“Ask him.”
“We aren’t exactly close, but I’m having dinner with them on Tuesday. I’ll add that to the things I want to discuss. Is there any chance Melanie could spend the evening with you and Karin? It would be more fun for her to hang out with Karin than sit around the house alone.”
“Of course,” Skylar agreed, at the same moment thinking wryly of how hard Aaron had tried to keep Melanie away from both her and the Nibble Nook. “She can go home with us after school and sleep over.”
“Thanks. My grandparents invited her, but they’d be painfully proper and polite to cover how they feel. She’d be miserable.”
Skylar got up and gathered the cooler and other containers from their picnic at the edge of the river. “How do they feel?”
“Well, my parents’ divorce was ugly, and Melanie’s only connection to them is through their ex-son-in-law.”
“That shouldn’t be important,” Skylar said thoughtfully. “You’re their grandson and Melanie is your sister. Doesn’t that count for something?”
Aaron frowned. “It should. I’m just not sure they agree. Oh, before I forget, how about going to the Sacramento Zoo next Saturday? Is that something Karin would enjoy, or is it too childish? Melanie loves the idea—apparently she’s never been to a zoo.”
“I think Karin would be okay with it. She used to want to be a veterinarian and adores All Creatures Great and Small and the other books by James Herriot.”
“Great. We’ll pick you up at nine, if it isn’t too early.”
“That’s fine.”
Aaron put a hand out to help her up, then slung the picnic gear over his shoulder. “By the way, thanks for giving me some time with Karin.”
“Is that what I did?” Skylar said, keeping her face blank.
She still didn’t want her daughter having anything to do with the Hollisters, but Aaron obviously wasn’t going away anytime soon, and she was trying to be fair.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
AARON DROPPED MELANIE at school on Monday and hurried to the office. In spite of their disagreement and her threat to resign, Peggy was at her desk, still sending him disapproving looks.
“Your father has phoned several times this morning,” she said ominously. “It’s bad enough speaking with him once in a while, but he keeps calling me ‘Sunshine’ and asking for my physical...dimensions. He claims I sound like a Playboy bunny and could make a fortune working at a dial-for-sex 900 number.”
“Damn.” Aaron could strangle his father for acting like an irreverent lecher. Peggy unquestionably had a husky, melodic voice which sounded far younger than her actual years, but that was no excuse. “Please accept my apologies. That sort of thing is unacceptable. Check caller identification from now on and don’t answer if it’s from him.”
“But he’s your father.”
“Who behaves like an X-rated Peter Pan who will never grow up or realize that he should have respect for other people. I’ll talk to him, but believe me, he isn’t going to change.”
Peggy’s expression softened. “That’s all right. I can handle him.”
“You shouldn’t have to. I’m serious—you have enough to do without that nonsense.”
The woman actually smiled, dropping decades from her appearance. “All right. Shall I get you a cup of coffee?”
Aaron was taken aback. She had never offered to get coffee, and he didn’t expect an assistant to wait on his personal needs. “Only if you’re getting one for yourself.”
She dimpled. “Cream or sugar?”
“Black. And thank you.”
Peggy was back with the coffee so quickly he barely had time to sit down at his desk. “Here you are. Let me know if there’s anything else you need.”
She left, still smiling, and Aaron shook his head. He hadn’t been sure she had teeth, she’d been so tight-lipped their entire acquaintance.
He opened the bottom drawer in the desk and withdrew the file she had given him over a week before. Occupied with thoughts of Skylar and Melanie, he’d tossed it there, intending to forget it altogether. But the things Skylar had said about his employees were bothering him.
He started with the oldest memos, dating back to a few years after he was born. Mostly they were general, this and that about equipment and processing, issues that applied to the functioning of the factory. Then he found photocopies of the leases his grandfather had signed with several farmers for the land east of the factory, the land Aaron had been hoping to develop.
In the margin of one was a note in his grandfather’s handwriting.
Spoke to John Isaacs and others this morning. Assured them leases would be renewed at reasonable rate if organic venture is successful. New age nonsense or cutting-edge idea? Time will tell.
Aaron stared. He’d read the original paperwork, and it said nothing about a guaranteed renewal. An unsigned, handwritten bit of text might not be legally binding, but his grandfather’s note suggested a verbal agreement had been made. And whether it was legally enforceable or not, Aaron wasn’t going to break his grandfather’s word—if George had promised to renew the leases, that’s what would happen.
He set the annotated photocopy on the corner of the desk and continued reading.
A polite petition from the employees for a one-hour meal break came several memos later, along with George’s reply, approving the request. Halfway through the folder, Aaron found a notice to the employees discussing permission to take home factory seconds. Pain began throbbing in his temples as he read George’s private note written in the corner.
Longtime custom started by Grandfather during the Depression when we were only producing canned goods. Decided formal memo should be issued.
Then Aaron found material supporting a seven-and-a-half-hour day for “employees with a compelling reason to need an extended meal break.” Another handwritten note appeared in the margins.
Not a good policy for assembly-line jobs and may affect production output, but Sarah will never forgive me if I don’t support working mothers.
The idea that his grandmother was aware of the demands placed on working parents was hard to fathom.
When he’d finished reading the last document in the folder, Aaron pulled out a bottle of aspirin and swallowed several tablets.
Hell. He’d come into Cooper Industries and seen scandalous employee behavior and blamed it on a workforce taking advantage of their aged employer. It was more complicated than that, however. George Cooper had made the kind of people decisions you made in a small family business, forgetting that Cooper Industries wasn’t small, and allowing abuses to grow out of his decisions because he didn’t monitor the results. The trick would be finding a way to mix the past and present in a way that would keep the company viable.
In the meantime, Aaron wrote a note to the shift foremen and forewomen, saying he was reinstating permission for employees to take home a reasonable number of factory seconds. He asked them to monitor distribution until a process could be established to properly identify and label safe-to-consume food items not meeting Cooper Industries retail standards, and which ensured employees were able to share equally in the benefit.
Stepping into the outer office, he handed Peggy a signed copy and asked her to issue it immediately.
“The employees will be so pleased, Mr. Hollister,” she said, looking surprised. “But I thought you didn’t approve.”
“I’m not sure I do, but I’ll survive.”
“I’ll get it right out.”
Aaron’s second memo, to the general employee population, was more difficult to write. Skylar had suggested his lack of trust was affecting employee relations, but how could he fix it when he didn’t entirely trust them? After all, there had been abuses, and a variable-length meal break didn’t work well in factory positions—the people who were back at a certain time often had to wait on the ones who weren’t. He finally wrote out a draft that didn’t express everything, but might be a start.
To Cooper Industry Employees:
I am evaluating the standardized meal-break policy established several months ago. Production output significantly increased with the new policy, but concerns have been expressed, especially on behalf of working parents with child-care issues.
Your ideas are welcome in identifying a solution that maintains productivity, but also supports a positive working environment.
I also wish to form a committee to evaluate the feasibility of a day-care facility. Please submit your name to a foreman/forewoman if you are interested in working on this committee.
Aaron saved the memo on his computer so he could review it over the next week before sending it out. He had other calls to make, and he might as well get to them. His father was first—Spence probably wasn’t going to listen to reason, but there wasn’t any harm in trying. As for why he might have called...Aaron wasn’t overly curious. Spence r
arely called about anything important.
* * *
MELANIE PUT A nightshirt and clothes in her backpack on Tuesday morning so Mrs. Gibson...Skylar, wouldn’t have to go by Aaron’s house on the way home. Mrs. Gibson had told her the day before that it was okay to call her Skylar. It was nice, because Karin was getting to call Aaron by his first name.
“Do you...well, have what you need?” Aaron asked as she came downstairs. “For tonight?”
“Uh-huh.” It was going to be splendid spending the whole afternoon and night with the Gibsons.
They drove to the school and Melanie got out hastily. She liked Aaron much better now than she had in the beginning, but she still didn’t want the other kids seeing them together more than necessary. Once she got her driver’s license, maybe she could drive herself. Aaron had arranged for lessons, so it shouldn’t be long before she could take the tests.
“Bye,” she said over her shoulder as she hurried up the sidewalk.
They were all going to the zoo together on Saturday, and she knew Aaron was making other plans, too. Maybe he figured if she did things with Karin she wouldn’t care about moving in with the Gibsons, but she wasn’t going to change her mind. She hadn’t talked to either her mother or father about it yet, though Aaron had said they’d both called. She had asked him if they were mad at her because of the lawyer, and he’d said they weren’t, but wouldn’t say more than that, other than her mother being worried for Mrs. Gibson because her husband had died.
“But I can help Mrs. Gibson,” she’d said. “I’ll do chores just like Karin and volunteer to do extras.”
Aaron had just shaken his head, not wanting to talk about it anymore. He was being really nice to her, even though she’d confessed that she hadn’t asked Skylar for permission to move in with them. Most of the places she’d stayed they’d wanted her to be invisible. It wasn’t that they’d said she should be invisible, but she could tell when people thought she was in the way.
Winning Over Skylar Page 19
