Sleeping Beauty (59 page)

“And to sell if we got a decent price,” said Walter. “We aren't fooling around, are we? We're looking for a price that sounds okay, aren't we? And then we'll take it?”

“It has to be significantly better than okay,” Marian said.

“How much is significant?” Walter's voice rose. It was bad enough that he always felt smothered by the family; he couldn't stand it when they made their pronouncements as if he'd hardly spoken. Fred had told him they were going to run Chatham Development together, and they'd have to pay attention to what he said. “I thought we had a deal, here! I thought we were all set in Chicago and you'd be getting us a hunk of money and we could get going again!”

“It's all right,” Fred said shortly. “It's under control. We decided. It's fine.”

“It's not fine,” Gail shot back. “It's terrible and you all know it. It doesn't make any sense to try to prop up a company that's going under—”

“Gail, dear, you're talking about your father's company,” said Nina in dismay.

“Not the time for squabbles,” said William firmly. “It's Christmas, and Leo gave a prayer about families and nourishing and all that, and that's what we ought to be thinking about. There's plenty to talk about besides things we don't agree on.” He looked around the table as if waiting for someone to start.

“William,” Anne said, “would you mind if I asked a few questions?”

“Why should I mind?” he asked. “What about?”

“Selling The Tamarack Company. I don't understand it.”

“Don't understand?”
Fred asked, leaning forward to look past Marian.

“I must be very slow about these things,” she said to him apologetically.

“For Christ's sake, it's so simple an infant could—”

“Careful,” Marian murmured to him, “Anne isn't slow about anything.”

“It's settled,” Walter said, “and it'll be all done with after the first of the year. Why do we have to go over it again?”

“All done?”
Ned cried. “You said you were
finding out—”

“It isn't done,”
Marian said, “it's being explored.”

“That isn't what he said! He said—”

“We have someone interested,” Walter said impatiently. “Why do we have to keep chewing on it?”

“I'd like to hear Anne's questions,” said Rose. Everyone looked at her in surprise; she so seldom spoke at family gatherings, and never against Walter.

“Well, all right, then,” William pronounced. “What's wrong with a few questions, a little discussion, maybe some fresh air on the subject? Anne wasn't at our dinner a week ago when we made the decision to sell; why shouldn't she have as much information as we have? Go ahead, Anne; what can we tell you?”

Gail and Robin cleared the soup plates and listened as they filled dinner plates at the sideboard.

“I'm sorry if I seem confused about this,” Anne said, looking around the table. Charles met her eyes briefly, then looked at his hands. His mouth was tight with anger and dismay. Keith's head was tilted as if he were memorizing everything. The others met her eyes with puzzlement or interest. Only Leo watched her with anticipation. “But I just don't understand what's going on. Why are you selling The Tamarack Company?”

“To save Chatham Development,” Marian said before Fred's impatience could explode. “And your father. I thought you knew the finances, Anne; Charles is in a terrible mess and he needs at least forty million dollars to pull out of it. Then he and Fred and Walter will build the company up again. They're planning new projects; they've trimmed the payroll; all they need is the capital. It isn't a happy time, my dear; we're all unhappy about losing Tamarack. But losing Chatham Development would be worse.”

“Why?” Anne asked.

“Because it was the work of Dad's life,” Charles burst out. “It's a monument to him. It was his creation, his dream.”

“He got tired of it,” Gail said. “He came here and made this his creation. He chose to die here; he wanted his ashes scattered here. If he knew you'd had him buried in Lake Forest, he would have told you what he thought of you. If he'd known you wanted to sell this company, he would have hated you.”

“That's too much, Gail,” Marian said. “But I must say, it's true that he came to love Tamarack more than Chicago
or Lake Forest. We all felt a little abandoned when he came here, and when Charles got himself in this pickle, he didn't seem to care what happened, as long as he had Tamarack. That hurt me; it hurt all of us.”

“Then why is Chatham Development more important?” Anne asked.

“Because we're there,” Fred said furiously. “Your father, your aunt and uncle, your cousin Walter and his family. Leo likes to yammer on about family so much; well, this is your family and we need money, and you're sitting on it!”

Anne nodded thoughtfully. “So, if I understand you, you'll build up Chatham Development to its former strength and reputation, is that right?”

“Where've you been?” Walter asked. “That's just what Marian said a couple minutes ago.”

“Yes, I heard her.” There was a frown between Anne's eyes. Josh was watching her, a faint smile on his lips. He had seen that frown before, in her office, and heard her seemingly simple questions. What a pleasure it was to be on her side this time as she went to work. “But, from what I've been told,” Anne said, “Chatham Development, including its subsidiary, The Tamarack Company, used to be worth about three hundred fifty million dollars, and it had an international reputation for brilliant, innovative projects. And now its net worth is ten million, with a reputation for losing money.” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Charles wince, and felt a stab of pity for him. But she went on. “And the three of you are planning to build the company back to its original position?”

“Damn it,” Fred snapped, “how many times do we have to tell you—”

“Gail, the pheasant is absolutely delicious,” said Nina. “And I don't know what you did to the wild rice, but it's the best—”

“Just a minute, Fred,” said Marian. She was looking at Anne. “I remember you used to do this when you were a little girl. You kept asking questions that seemed foolish, but then, suddenly, they didn't seem foolish at all. What are you getting at, Anne?”

“I'm trying to understand what happened,” Anne replied. “When did Chatham Development slide from three hundred fifty million in assets to ten million?”

“Mostly in the last ten, twelve years,” William said, his voice deep and slow. “When Dad was really gone. Charles found it a lot tougher than he'd thought it would be. And we didn't help, you know; Vince was right about that. We hardly paid any attention; we just went on the way we always had, as if Dad was still there. Only it wasn't Dad, of course; it was Charles.”

“But some of you were with him,” Anne said. “Weren't you a vice president, Fred? You didn't ignore him, did you?”

“You're damn right I didn't.”

“And Walter? You were there, too?”

“Right. All the time.”

“But then . . .” Anne paused and looked around the table. “You were all involved with Deerstream?”

There was a silence. Marian let out her breath in a long sigh. “Charles put Deerstream together,” Fred said hastily.

“We all did,” said Charles. “You know damn well we did, Fred. In fact, you were the one who heard about the highway first; that was why we went after the land.”

“I told you about the highway? I couldn't have; I heard it from you. But even if I did—”

“You were there,” said William. “You and Walter were with Charles all the way. You bought the land and hired the architects and drew up the plans and then found out the highway'd been canceled. But we all have to share the blame; we didn't even ask any questions. We're all at fault for letting you do it.”

“We
didn't do—”

“And the Barrington Mall,” Anne said, her clear voice cutting across his. “Wasn't that yours, Fred?”

“What?”

“The Barrington Mall. Am I correct that you were in charge of that?”

“Where are you getting all this?” Fred demanded. “Who the hell is giving you all this crap?”

“I never get to say those words,” Ned complained.

“Hell,” said three-year-old Gretchen, beating the table rhythmically with her spoon. “Hell, crap, hell, crap.”

“Stop it, Gretchen, those are terrible words,” wailed Rose. “Oh, Daddy, look what you've done.”

“Well, take her away from the table!” shouted Fred. “She doesn't belong with adults anyway.”

“She's part of the family!” Rose exclaimed.

“Maybe Robin could take her to play,” said Nina.

“That's not fair; I want to listen!” Robin cried.

“Of course you'll stay,” said Leo. “So will Gretchen. This is a family dinner.”

There was a brief silence. “My family always fights at holidays,” said Eve helpfully. “But we always get over it.”

“Thank you, my dear,” said William solemnly.

“Could I have more wine?” asked Keith.

“What was the Barrington Mall?” Leo asked as he went around the table refilling wineglasses.

“A vertical shopping center we built in Barrington, outside Chicago,” Charles said. “It was a mistake; vertical malls don't belong in the suburbs. Fred thought we'd save on the land, and we did, because we needed so much less, but people didn't like the idea, and then the design was bad; you couldn't see all the shops from the atrium so nobody ever shopped in them, and we had a high vacancy rate. Everything about it was wrong.”

“What did you lose on it?” Anne asked.

There was a pause. “Twenty-five million,” Charles replied.

Nina gasped. “No one ever told me that.”

“It was in the year-end statement,” Charles said.

“Well, I just don't read those,” Nina said sadly. “I don't understand them.”

“And the Chatham O'Hare Tower?” Anne asked. “Wasn't that yours, Walter?”

“Jesus—!” Fred said furiously.

“It's filling up,” Walter said defensively. “The market's slow now.”

“How full is it?” Anne asked.

“About fifty percent.”

“And when was it built?”

“Five years ago,” he snapped. “The market's been slow.”

“It's been the biggest market in history,” said William. “You didn't tell us it was only fifty percent full.”

“How much has to be rented for you to make a profit?” Anne asked.

“Seventy percent,” Marian said. “I looked into it. That would be a marginal profit, but I thought we were there. Fifty percent? What went wrong, Walter?”

He shrugged angrily. “It got overbuilt out there. We came in about the time everybody else was building—”

“A year late,” said Charles. He still had his faintly puzzled look, but he also seemed relieved at being able to talk openly; it was almost as if he were relishing exposing the darkest corners of the business after having pretended for so long that everything was fine. “We were arguing over how much to spend on it and how big it should be, and by the time we broke ground, everybody was ahead of us.”

“I moved as fast as I could,” Walter shot at him. “You kept fiddling with it; every time I turned around, you had something new you wanted. I couldn't get you to make one lousy decision! I could have made that building work if people'd just left me alone!”

“Is there more pheasant?” asked Nina. “It's so good, dear . . .”

“The best I've ever had,” William said. “Thank you, Gail. I'd like more, too.”

“Me, too,” Keith said. “This is a great dinner.”

Gail met Leo's eyes. “Yes, I think maybe it is,” she said.

“Do you have any more questions, Anne?” William asked.

Walter pushed his chair back. “Listen, could we just for Christ's sake stop talking? Could we just
sell
the goddam company and be done with it? Damn it, sell it and give us the money! We're the ones that need it!”

“Just a few more questions,” Anne said. “Leo, what kind of shape is The Tamarack Company in?” She glanced at Walter, who hovered uncertainly between standing and sitting, and at last sat down.

“That's on last year's end-of-year report,” Leo said easily. “We've gone up steadily for the last six years.”

“Since you took over,” said Gail.

“Ethan was a big part of that,” Leo said. “We worked together up to the time of his stroke. And I'm still working with his plans. We've bought new properties in town and in the valley, and sold others; we've made improvements to the mountain, the major one being the gondola, and increased our share of the state's skiers; we built The Tamarack Hotel, and we've had full occupancy in the high seasons and higher than average the rest of the year. We had problems with the EPA and the water supply this year, and they hurt us, so we're down for this quarter, and maybe the next two quarters, but there's no reason to think we won't come back; we're very strong.”

“How many Chatham Development enterprises show a six-year growth?” Anne asked, looking from Fred to Charles to Walter.

“None,” Charles said shortly.

“So Tamarack is the only subsidiary that's profitable?”

Charles nodded.

“And you're going to sell it?”

“We have to!” shouted Walter.

“For what?” Anne asked. Her voice was crisp. “To put the money in the hands of the same people who failed with Deerstream and the Barrington Mall and the Chatham O'Hare Tower? To get rid of the one profitable subsidiary left after all the other Chatham subsidiaries have been sold or shut down? To add money to the sums poured into Chatham Development by mortgaging its properties so there's nothing left to pay the interest on your bank loan? To try to lift up a company that's sunk to the bottom, with the same management and staff it's had all along, and nothing new to offer its shareholders?”