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Authors: P. L. Gaus

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BOOK: Cast a Blue Shadow
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Juliet Favor stepped up to Martha, a scant five inches from her face, and continued talking softly, taking satisfaction that Martha’s eyes sought the carpet at her feet, and that her cheeks and ears flamed red.

 

IT TOOK no more than six minutes. Martha came alone to Sonny in the parlor with pools in her eyes. She looked at him with a lost expression, and the tears spilled out onto her cheeks. He embraced her, feeling more confused than sorry.

“Mom’s not so bad once you get to know her,” he said awkwardly. “She thinks of family, first. Duty, obligations, her ‘legacy.’ Give her a chance, Martha. She’s had it rough since Dad died, and I think she overcompensates.”

 

SONNY left Martha in the parlor and came back nervously through the main foyer, where a grand staircase led to the second-floor hallway with the master bath and bedroom. This was the front staircase. A rear one led from the kitchen at the back of the house to a second-floor vestibule with two bedrooms, each with an attached bath.

Sonny crossed in front of the main stairs and marched across the marble floor, into the bar. Passing through, he entered a library and turned left to take a door to Daniel’s office and prep room adjoining the formal dining room on the other side. He found his mother there with the butler, in a long, narrow room, which Daniel had fitted with a small desk and a laptop, china and crystal cabinets, and a chest for silver service. There were also prep tables for dinners, and a tall refrigerator with glass doors, holding beverages of all descriptions. A wet bar stood against the wall beside the refrigerator. The narrow aisle down the middle of the room was wide enough for only two people to pass comfortably.

Favor poured herself another drink as Sonny squeezed past her and took a 7 UP from the refrigerator. Juliet sipped her drink slowly and appraised her son carefully. Daniel stood silently at the far end of the narrow room, by the swinging doors to the kitchen and pantries beyond.

Eventually, Sonny managed to ask, “What did you say to her, Mom?”

“Why, nothing at all, really, Sonny. Of course I wanted her to know how important your studies are to us. You’d agree to that, wouldn’t you?”

“I guess so, if that was all.”

“Of course. Now, what’s the problem?”

“She’s crying.”

“She’s the emotional type, Sonny. I saw that right away. She’ll be fine.”

“I’ve never seen her so upset,” Sonny said, confused by his emotions. He felt guilty again, but did not understand why. It seemed to him that he had often felt this way, even as a child, and that he had, in some unnatural way, grown accustomed to it. “I want you to like her, Mom.”

“I’m sure I will, Sonny. Now don’t leave the poor thing alone too long.”

Sonny looked to Daniel for reassurance, but Daniel avoided his gaze.

Favor let a moment pass as she sipped her drink, and then she took her son by the arm, escorted him back into the library, and headed him toward the front parlor. Back in Daniel’s room, she said, “That kid’s going to need nursemaiding all his life.”

“He’s still young, Ms. Favor,” Daniel said.

“He’s a spineless dope. Not recognizable as Harry’s son,” she muttered, squeezing her temples between thumb and forefinger. She rubbed at the back of her neck, eyes shut tight. “You call Dick Pomeroy?” she asked, weakly. “I’m out of medicine.”

“Professor Pomeroy will arrive ahead of the others.”

“Good,” Favor said, with her eyes still closed. “DiSalvo is next, right?”

“He’s due any minute.”

“Show him into the parlor.”

“Sonny and his young lady are probably still there.”

“I know that!” Favor snapped. “I want Sonny to hear that I’m changing my will. Want to see if that will snap him around.”

“You’ve got DiSalvo until 8:20, and then it’s President Laughton.”

“Him you can leave in the foyer,” Favor schemed. “It’ll serve him right for opposing me on the board. Let him hold his hat for a good ten minutes in the front foyer. I want you to leave the doors to the parlor open so he can see me working with DiSalvo. I’ll take Laughton into the bar, then, when I think he’s heard enough. You be sure Sonny gets there too, if I don’t have him with me then. And please see to DiSalvo while I’m talking to Laughton. He gets hungry, so please bring him something.”

“I do recall, ma’am. I’ll see that he’s taken care of.”

 

HENRY DiSalvo pushed his boots through the white drifts on the steps to the wraparound front porch. The porch was lighted brightly by several hanging fixtures, but he had walked the last fifty yards up the drive in the dark. His face and glasses had been pelted with snow and sleet, and his long black coat was plastered white in front. He rang the door chimes, and Daniel, waiting for him inside, opened the doors immediately. DiSalvo brushed off his overcoat before entering, and, once he was inside with the doors closed, Daniel took his coat, gloves, and hat.

From a briefcase, DiSalvo took out a pair of brown penny loafers and stood, first on one foot and then on the other, to pull off hiking boots and put on the loafers. Daniel steadied the elderly gentleman by holding his arm.

“We are serving martinis and hors d’oeuvres now,” Daniel said, “and Madam hopes you’ll stay for dinner later this evening.”

“I could use a drink,” DiSalvo replied. “And Daniel, I had to leave my car about halfway down the drive. Stuck in the snow, I’m afraid.”

“I’ll see to it,” Daniel said. “Ms. Favor will join you in the parlor, Mr. DiSalvo.”

DiSalvo handed Daniel the keys to his car, and, knowing the house well, took the doors to his left, went into the spacious parlor, and walked to the far wall, by the fireplace. As he warmed himself at the wood fire, his eyes wandered along the mantel where several tall baseball trophies flanked a squat brass trophy depicting the low scrummage of a rugby team. He tilted the trophy back, bent his head low, and read the inscription on the bottom:

Ohio Athletic Conference
1970 Champions
Millersburg College
Henry Luke DiSalvo, Coach
Harry Newton Favor, Captain

He eased the trophy into place, turned his back to the fire, and reacquainted himself with the Favor parlor. The decor was French Provincial, and DiSalvo knew some of the smaller armchairs to be authentic Louis XIV. The long drapes on the front window had been chosen by his wife in France, twenty years ago, when the DiSalvos had vacationed with the Favors on the Continent. His Elaine was gone now, and so was Harry Favor. Feeling melancholy, he took a seat in front of the windows, on a divan covered in yellow flowered fabric. He opened his briefcase, set a black Thinkpad across his knees, and punched up the documents in the Juliet Favor account. From the file menu, he chose the second document on the list, Last Will and Testament. He began proofreading out of habit.

Soon Daniel reappeared with a silver tray of martinis and canapés and announced Favor and her son. Favor entered the room with an expansive sweep of her arms and said, “Tonight, Henry! All the details ready?”

“Right here,” DiSalvo replied and tapped the screen on his laptop. Awkwardly, he tried to rise to his feet holding the laptop open, and Favor said, “For goodness sake, Henry, sit down.”

DiSalvo dropped back onto the divan and said, “Tonight we’ll finalize, and by tomorrow I’ll have all the documents prepared for your signature. My calendar is yours for the entire day.”

“We should be done by 4:00,” Favor said. “They’re all going to try to see me early, I’m sure, but Daniel knows the appointment schedule. You’ve got Sunday scheduled for the second group, too?”

“Yes. The other academic departments,” DiSalvo said. “Those from Saturday’s banquet.”

Daniel crossed the room to DiSalvo and bent deferentially to offer the tray to the lawyer. DiSalvo selected a plate of crackers and pâté, which he set on an antique table beside the divan. He also took a martini and sipped lightly before setting the glass on a silver coaster next to the plate.

“Take a seat next to Mr. DiSalvo there, Sonny,” Favor instructed. “We’ve matters to discuss.”

“I want to call to see if Martha got home all right,” Sonny answered and turned to the door.

“Nonsense!” Favor barked. “Sit down and sit down now, Sonny.” Her eyes narrowed fiercely, and to cover her irritation, she stepped to the windows to make a show of adjusting the curtains. There she glanced out briefly at sleet raking the front porch, and sighed heavily.

“Where’s your Lexus, Sonny?” Favor demanded and turned to see her son taking a seat on a delicate antique chair. “Not the Louis XIV, Sonny! Show some common sense, will you. I swear, Daniel, show Junior where to sit.”

She turned back to look out the front parlor windows, and Sonny caught a reflection of her expression in the window glass. His eyes tipped to the carpet. “Martha took the car,” he muttered.

Spinning around, Juliet said, “You’re going to have to plow, Daniel. Too many people tonight, not to plow it out at least once.”

“Right away, Ms. Favor,” Daniel answered. He set the martini tray on a round table with maple inlays near the fireplace and left through an ornate door to the dining room.

“Sonny, I expected better from you, bringing a Plain Jane like that to see me. And to let her drive your Lexus! What’s wrong with your head?”

“She wanted to go back to town in the worst way, Mom. What did you say to her?” Sonny asked, taking a seat next to DiSalvo.

“She could have gotten a ride back with any of a dozen people tonight.”

“I didn’t know that, Mom.”

“You didn’t ask.”

“I hope you didn’t hurt her feelings.”

“I’ve got plans for you, Sonny. Don’t make me think that you’re not ready.”

Confused by his emotions, Sonny glanced nervously at DiSalvo.

His mother said, “You are supposed to move into the business, Sonny. Now I’m not sure you’ll measure up.” She drained her martini glass and crossed the room to pour another drink from her green pitcher.

“What are you talking about?” Sonny asked.

“I’m reorganizing the whole estate,” she replied. “Why do you think Mr. DiSalvo is here?”

Instinctively, Sonny reached for an anchor. “I’ve got a trust fund. I’ll have that in three years, and you can’t touch it.”

“True, Sonny. The trust is yours. Your sister’s is the same, but it was supposed to go to her next month.”

Sonny stood up and paced in front of the divan.

With slow, deliberate words, Juliet said, “I still have the authority to delay both your trusts until you’re thirty, if I don’t like the progress you’ve made.”

“You wouldn’t,” Sonny said and stopped pacing to face his mother at the fireplace.

Juliet Favor sipped her drink, looked at her son over the top of her glass, and said, “Henry.”

DiSalvo pulled up another document on his screen and read, “I, Juliet Favor, deem that Sally Newton Favor is not presently competent to take responsibility for the trust left her by my late husband, Harry Newton Favor, and I do hereby suspend implementation of said Trust until her thirtieth birthday.”

“That means, Sonny,” Juliet explained, “that Sally is going to have to get by on an allowance of $4,000 a month until she is thirty.”

“You wouldn’t,” Sonny repeated, less confidently.

“Who’s her current lover?” Favor asked.

“You know, Mom.”

“Exactly. We’re not going to have that sort of thing among the Favors.”

“You’ve got no right to control her life like that, Mom.”

“I am simply delaying the onset of her trust. Perhaps she’ll change her mind.”

“What about Martha?”

“Don’t be silly. I won’t hear you talk this way.”

“What are you gonna do, Mom? Take away my trust too?”

Favor pointed a finger at the laptop.

DiSalvo chose another document and began to read. “I, Juliet Favor, deem that Samuel ‘Sonny’ Newton Favor is not competent . . .”

“Stop it!” Sonny shouted, arms stiff at his sides and eyes watering.

Pointing at DiSalvo’s laptop, Favor hissed, “Dump that Mennonite loser, or I’ll sign it. I swear I will, Sonny.”

Sonny froze in the center of the parlor, back straight, arms to his sides, making impotent fists. DiSalvo blushed for the boy and closed the laptop slowly. Juliet walked to Sonny and lightly embraced him. He stiffened. She took a step back, rested her left hand gently on his shoulder, and lifted his chin with the slender, tanned fingers of her right hand.

“Listen to me, Sonny. You’ve no idea how vast your father’s fortune really is. How vast mine is. And yours, if you measure up. Daddy always meant to bring you along himself, but he didn’t live that long, did he? Instead, when he knew he was ill, when you were eight, he began training me. So that I could be there when you came of age. Now you’re already a freshman. That gives us only three years. You’re going to have to excel at your studies. I’ll demand an MBA after college. I have Harvard in mind, and I’ve already started working on that. Your grades aren’t going to be that good if high school is any indication, so you’ll need my help then, as usual, and it’s time I laid the groundwork for that. No matter, it’s already in the works. But you’ll have to spend summers with me, learning how to manage the wealth. It’s not just money, Sonny. It’s holdings, directorships, chairmanships—a conglomerate you’ll never understand unless we start now.”

“What about what
I
want?” Sonny asked weakly.

“What
you
want? I’m
talking
about you, Sonny!” Favor shouted and shook his shoulders. “Henry, put it all on your screen there.”

DiSalvo stroked the keys of his laptop, and Juliet led her son to a seat beside the lawyer. On the screen, Sonny read an outline of his future. Board memberships in three companies upon graduation. Directorships after an MBA. CEO of one company at twenty-eight. More positions and responsibilities with each coming year. And last, when his mother was gone, complete control of the Favor fortune. The enormity of the plan staggered him, and he could not think clearly. His mind struggled with the notion that so much had been planned for him, and he felt caged. He wondered, briefly, how Martha Lehman would fit into such a life.

BOOK: Cast a Blue Shadow
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