Chapter 5 All In One

Chapter Five

Nelson stepped up to the heavy wooden door and rang the bell. He waited anxiously while his grandmother's ancient old butler answered his ring.

Nelson could tell the man was aging beyond usefulness after he saw his nose had dropped at least an inch from previous years when he'd held it pointing nearly to the ceiling.

"Why, Mr. Nelson, it's you, sir. Good to see you," Harmon Biggs said in greeting as he opened the door wide for Nelson to enter.

"How are you, Harmon?" Nelson asked, shaking the old man's bony hand that reached out with friendly acclaim.

"I've seen better days, Mr. Nelson. Your grandma used to swear I'd outlive her, but the way I've been feeling lately I'm not so sure."

"And how is my dear grandmother?" Nelson inquired, as if testing the water before he dove in.

A slight noise echoed from the stairway and Nelson looked up to see the old lady looking as commanding as ever. Dressed in a lovely print dress with long sleeves and a lace collar, she presented an elegance that came with a life of wealth and power.

"Your dear grandmother happens to be lonely due to the neglect of her grandson," Sarah Aiden Williams said in a clear, strong voice from the stairs. She took the steps as gracefully as she'd done in the days when her husband had been alive, and even at eighty-one she exuded a youthfulness that was only marred by the age wrinkles on her lovely old face. Although her shoulders looked a bit stiff, they were soldier-perfect on a straight back as she raised a proud chin.

"Hello, Grandma," Nelson said, moving toward her as she descended from the bottom step. "You're looking as pert as ever I see." He smiled and bent to kiss her cheek, his head feeling painfully heavy when he straightened back up.

"Young man, if you came to see me more often you would realize I'm not pert at all. But I do still have good legs to stand on, and I've learned at this age in my life to count the blessings instead of the aches. How are you?"

Nelson's father, Freeman, had informed her a while back that Nelson had closed down his Karate Academy. That had pleased her, thinking he might take his place at Williams Enterprises. Then Freeman told her he had taken leave to San Francisco and she had been furious with her grandson-still was, although she concealed it well.

She took Nelson's hand and walked with him to the living room, which she still referred to as the parlor. "Come, let's relax in the parlor." she stated. Then to the old butler, "Harmon, I'll have my afternoon tea. Bring my grandson a shot of something on the rocks. He looks like he needs it."

Nelson remarked, "You could read my mind at all times." As her fingers curled around his, he reassured her, "And to answer your question, I am fine."

Her hand was bony, wrinkled, cold, and even a little stiff. She continued to wear the same perfume that she had worn since Nelson was a young boy, and it was a testament to his grandmother's personality that would endure long after she was gone. That smell came to mind when he thought of her.

"I kind of hoped you had come to let me know you were prepared to take on your family responsibilities." She pulled her fingers out of his hand and gestured him to a chair across from her own, which was as elaborate as the rest of the room's furniture, with hand-carved rosewood in a beautiful pattern and plush rose velvet upholstery.

Between them was a low coffee table, and Nelson lowered himself to the chair. "Sadly, Nelson, I must let you down once more. I am still not prepared for the role that you and my father have in mind for me. In actuality, he was not prepared to give up his independence in exchange for his father's authority over him.

When will you mature and understand your responsibilities to your family, my boy? Your grandfather wanted to make sure his descendants would not ever have to worry about where they would get their next meal. We require Williams men to manage his empire and a continuous lineage. Nelson, we need you. Although your sister can manage the company independently and is a talented executive, she will eventually stop being a Williams. The name Williams will not be passed down to her children. Our only hope is you. If there were no one left to continue, would you witness the destruction of everything your ancestors have worked so hard to achieve? I am an elderly woman with only a few years left, my boy. I hope you take your proper place before I am summoned to my creator.

The appeal did not teach Nelson anything new. Before closing my karate school, Nelson, I considered spending some time in the office with Dad and Sis to gain some knowledge about the company, but I just could not bring myself to do it. I do not want to put myself in a situation where my father controls and dictates everything I do. He has always treated me like a puppet, and I would never be able to work for or with him.

Nelson was aware that bringing up the topic of his trust was unnecessary. Until he fulfilled his grandfather's wishes to either work at Williams Enterprises or have a child, the elderly woman would not move an inch.

She chose a more alluring topic in an attempt to persuade Nelson, who had previously complained about his father. "Your young fiancé comes to see me a lot. She fervently hopes that you will one day mature and assume your role in the family, much like your father and sister, and that you two will then be able to reconcile.

"My fiance! Nelson said, "Jennifer is lying to you." She ended our relationship long ago when I was unable to support her lavish nightlife.

"Well, I had a different impression of her. As long as you accept your position within the company, she said, there is still hope for reconciliation.

Let me check to see if I get you. Jennifer will not marry me unless I work for Williams Enterprises, even though you want me to do so in order for her to marry me.

"You did a great job expressing it. Being a highly aspirational young lady, Jennifer would never wed someone whose status is lower than her own.

His headache throbbed even more after that slap in the face. When he ran out of money and was unable to take her to all the upscale restaurants she preferred, Jennifer had broken up with him. That gave him the impression that Jennifer was more interested in his wallet than in him.

Nelson was overcome by hostility. "Well, where do my desires fit into the bigger picture if I give in to what everyone else wants from me?"

Harmon brought the tea, pouring it slowly enough to be a reflection of his advanced age. Nelson assumed the pale amber liquid in the whiskey glass he placed in front of him was scotch. Nelson picked it up and began to drink it, but he had to wait for his grandmother's delicate moment when she poured the cream into her tea and stirred softly, then added half a teaspoon of sugar and stirred again, as if the day did not have any more significance than making her tea.

She did not bother to respond to his pointed query.

After Harmon left the room, Nelson watched her and resumed the conversation.

"Well, Nelson, I am sorry to disappoint Jennifer, but I have to make some changes in my life that do not involve Williams Enterprises due to unforeseen circumstances. I hoped you would at least give me a portion of your trust and loosen your strict control over it.

The look she gave him almost made him wince.

Her brow wrinkled prominently as she glared at him from over the top edge of the brittle china cup. In her other hand, she held the cup above her saucer. "You know that is not possible," she said sternly. Your grandfather's wishes would always take precedence over mine. He hoped you would marry and have a Williams heir, and he hoped you would eventually manage Williams Enterprises. The trust remains in its current form until one or both of those conditions are fulfilled.

She looked like a kind old lady to Nelson, with her feet flat on the floor, her tea cup in one hand, and her saucer in the other. Beneath that docile façade, however, was a ruthless, unyielding despot. Nelson remarked, "Then you give me little choice." I guess I will have to look for a bride in California.

She appeared shocked at the idea.

Jennifer would make the perfect wife for you, my boy. Are you too obstinate to comply with her basic demands?

"I feel that I should not have to compromise my own standards in order to satisfy everyone else's," Nelson said. It will be that way if the only way to get my trust is to produce an heir.

Feeling the familiar sting that sizzled all the way down his gut, he poured the contents of his scotch down his dry throat. As he replaced the glass on the tray, his grandmother looked on in contempt. He sat back with pretended ease, a quiver racing across his shoulders, but he remembered to smile.

"The selection of a partner is crucial, young man. I hope you will not make a hasty decision about who you want to spend the rest of your life with because you want to be trusted. Williamss commit to one another for life. Make sure your decision is sound enough to allow you to make the same legally binding commitment.

Nelson could almost believe the cup was still full when she took another sip of her tea.

His tall frame loomed over his grandmother as he got up from his chair. Staying longer would only encourage the elderly woman to continue lecturing. He would had enough already. Nelson stated, "I will keep your feelings in mind when I make my decision."

With great dignity, Sarah Aiden Williams stood up. Despite her advanced age, she refused to be intimidated by her grandson. Rather than offering her cheek as she usually did, she stuck out her hand. She said somewhat drily, "It would please me if you would spend some time with me when you are in town again," sounding more like an order than an invitation.

As Nelson looked at his grandmother, he realized that his father was just like his mother.

He tried to appease her, not missing the tone that suggested she felt rejected. "I apologize for my haste, and it is always a pleasure to visit with you, Nelson. When I return, I will definitely make an effort to spend more time with you.

Still holding her bony hand, he planted a kiss on her cheek.

Chapter Six

While the kids were in physical education, Clara graded papers at her desk. She looked at the withered roses, their petals falling haphazardly to the vase's bottom. She now felt as though she was a wilted rose, with fragments of her life constantly falling away. Nelson Williams kept coming to mind, and she wondered why he had not bothered to get in touch with her despite sending her roses. But why should he? She had, after all, crept out of the lounge to keep from running into him again.

Her students were at music when her friend Jonny burst in for a brief conversation.

Jonny threw the classified section of the newspaper on her lap and exclaimed, "Look at this, Clara." "I believe I have resolved your issue."

Clara chuckled. Jonny was constantly trying to solve everyone's problems. he enjoyed challenges, particularly those that were not personal to her and did not require her to become emotionally invested. "So, what am I meant to observe?" Clara asked, running her eyes down the columns.

"That is the one I marked for you," Jonny pointed.

Clara read, Preschool Facility for Sale.

She gave Jonny a quick look. "A daycare? You have got to be insane. Unaware of how carefully Jonny had considered it, she remarked, "That would tie me down more than I am now." She had an incredible mind, and although she wouldn't admit it, an extremely high I.Q.

"No, it won't. Just listen to me a minute. Just stop and think. There must be a small room somewhere you can turn into a tiny apartment for your parents. They'd be right there with you and you could look in on them any time you felt like it."

Trudy's remark grabbed Clara's attention, and she was thoughtful before she replied. Taking her parents to work with her everyday would be the perfect solution to silencing her constant fear that her mother might fall, or perhaps something worse could happen. "You've got a point there, but it must cost a fortune. I could never afford something like that. Anyway, how do we know it's a good investment?"

"Read the rest of the advertisement," Jonny Prompted. "It says the daycare is still under operation with an established enrollment, and the staff would consider staying on with the new owner. It sounds perfect to me. You could look out for your parents and still have an income."

"I'll think about it," Clara informed Jonny without any intention of doing so. The cost of such an adventure would be prohibitive for her with her meager funds. Yet, being able to take her parents to work with her was an arresting thought. That part seemed an excellent advantage. It would solve present problems and those later on as her parents' conditions worsened.

"You can do it, Clara," Jonny encouraged, backing toward the door. You've got business skills you learned in your father's business during your summer breaks from school before he retired. Give them a call. It won't cost a thing to find out about it. See you," she said, and was gone, leaving her innovative idea pounding Clara's overworked thoughts.

While she was thinking about the benefit of being able to bring her parents to work with her, Clara tore out the advertisement and placed it in her wallet at the end of the workday. Perhaps Jonny was correct. Perhaps something had to change.

She looked at the withered roses as she prepared to leave her classroom. The story of my life, she thought.

Her mind trailed to the night she met Nelson Williams. It was just one more petal of her life dropping away. She grabbed the vase off the desk and dumped its contents in the trashcan.

All the way home, the ad about the daycare drew her thoughts. The mere idea of being able to take her parents to work with her daily had a peaceful quality. Looking for solutions to her problems and heavy burdens never ceased. Like Trudy, she began to see the value in such an arrangement that a daycare might offer. When she arrived home and found her mom and dad napping, she picked up the phone and called. Like Jonny said, the call wouldn't cost a thing.

She must have talked for a good twenty minutes with the owner.

"Miss Dalton, my wife and I have been running the nursery for twenty years. We've made a good living here and managed to save a healthy retirement nest egg. Now, we want to do some traveling before we get too old to enjoy it. We're selling below appraisal price in hopes of a quick sale. Do you mind telling me why you're willing to give up a good teaching job to take on the burden of a business?"

"My parents are disabled and I thought I could create a dayroom for them so I can watch them while I'm working. I refuse to put them in a nursing home."

"You sound like a wonderful daughter. There is an addition in back that would be perfect for a dayroom. My wife and I are honest folks and we would never try to deceive anyone. A business has its share of problems, but I can honestly say we've been fortunate to have a good enrollment that has grown rather than dwindled. Parents want to know their children are safe and we've provided that peace of mind for them."

"What terms are involved?" Clara inquired. She thought of her parents' savings and wondered if she dared risk spending it.

"With a decent amount down, I'm willing to finance the rest for a point lower than the bank would charge on interest. We could work out a payment plan that would be suitable to you. You're welcome to see our books."

It all sounded too good to be true. Clara's concerns about leaving her parents alone would be resolved and spare her the painful stress she was forever under when she wasn't with them.

"I think I'd like to do that. Is tomorrow after school alright?" she asked and received an affirmative reply. When she hung up the phone she wondered if she was losing her mind to even consider such a thing.

She was glad she had worked with her dad. She had often worked on his account books and understood them well. She would be able to tell if the purchase would be too risky to make. She wished she could consult with him now about such a venture.

After making dinner for her parents and doing her evening chores at home, which included grading papers, Clara crawled in bed, too wound up to sleep. An inner voice encouraged her to consider the daycare. Another voice warned her it was risky business.

She was reminded of an old adage about swimming or sinking. If she sank, they all would drown. Her parents' savings would go toward the down payment and would be nothing less than disastrous if something went wrong. What if she couldn't pay the mortgage on the daycare? What would she do then? Worrisome thoughts kept her tumbling restlessly.