Authors: Belva Plain
“Well, let’s begin. You know why I’m here,” Martin said.
The two looked up from their coffee cups without responding. Martin cleared his throat, blew his nose, and replaced his handkerchief. It occurred to Lara that she had never before seen the man ill at ease about anything. Then to her surprise he addressed her individually.
“I’ve never said this to you, Lara. I know Davey has a clear picture of the Longwood proposal in his mind. We had a good talk in the car. But I wondered whether you really have one. And since I know he won’t do anything without your approval, I’ve concluded that maybe you’re the reason he can’t quite make up his mind. And that’s why I’m here, to go over the whole thing in detail and specifically with you.”
“But we have both made up our minds,” Lara said. “I thought you knew that.”
Martin turned to Davey, who still said nothing, but stirred his coffee and looked thoughtful. What was the matter with him? Why did he not speak up?
Martin began again. “Davey, I understand very well
how you built this business and what it must mean to you—”
Now Davey interrupted. “The idea for the business was actually Lara’s. I’m just an inventor. And then it was Eddy who developed it, who showed us how to run it.”
“Oh, Eddy,” Martin said with a slight shrug.
The shrug, however unintentioned, irked Lara, bringing her at once to the defensive. “Yes, Eddy. He never had anything but giving in his heart.”
Martin nodded. “True. But then came greed, and it ruined him. Very sad.”
“That’s why we mustn’t let greed ruin us,” Lara said gently enough.
“We are digressing.” Martin laid the cigar in an ashtray and shoved the coffee cup aside. “Let us get back to my subject. I have to tell you, I won’t be able to stave this matter off. Franklin Bennett is not the easiest man in the world to deal with. Nor are all the bankers, or the lawyers. A project like this involves more people than you perhaps imagine.”
Lara, trying to meet Davey’s eyes, had no success. He was deliberately avoiding her. It was infuriating to see him so impassive, offering no responses, no opinions; quiet man that he was, man of a few words, he could nevertheless express himself very firmly indeed, whenever he wanted to.
Martin was waiting for someone to answer him. So she said, “Martin, I hate being negative. After all you’ve done for us! You must think I’m ungrateful, as if I’m not even decent enough to give thought to what you’ve proposed.
But I have thought. We both have. Believe me when I say we’ve thought very, very deeply.”
“You made a clear statement a moment ago, about not letting greed ruin you. You can’t have given the proposition much thought, Lara, if you can say a thing like that.”
Still quietly, Lara persisted. “But greed is what I see in these takeovers. Wouldn’t it be greedy to sell out, to close down a plant that has brought so many jobs to this town and done so much for the town, greedy to sell out, to grab our money and run? What about Bennett himself or the money shufflers on Wall Street? Not greedy?”
At that Davey spoke anxiously. “Lara, not everyone is—you don’t mean—she doesn’t mean,” he said to Martin, as if, Lara thought, he were apologizing for me, as if I were not responsible for my own words.
She was not to be hushed. “I was not being personal, Martin. I was only telling you what I see is happening in this country. We don’t want to be part of it. That’s all I meant.”
Martin flushed, and she realized that he had indeed considered himself insulted. Nevertheless, she continued.
“Maybe you don’t understand a town like this one. People here resent it when they read about others taking golden parachutes and then abandoning everything. People giving themselves millions while their companies are drained away.”
“Envy,” said Martin. “Envy pure and simple. It’s exaggerated and ridiculous.”
Lara shook her head. “No, Martin, not envy. Oh,
maybe some of it is, I suppose. But I’m talking about a friend from my school days whose husband works at our plant. If we close up and he loses this job, they’ll lose their house. That’s what’s happened to her sister’s family in New Jersey, and she’s terrified. If our plant closes, we’ll mangle this town, Martin. We’re the largest factory in it. So many people have come to depend on it.”
“They can be relocated,” Martin argued. “P.T.C. Longwood has plants in Michigan and Tennessee—”
“But they don’t want to be relocated.” She could hear the pleading in her voice. “And you know they wouldn’t relocate all of them, anyhow. You know that, and I know it. I’ve read enough about it.”
Martin sighed and appealed to Davey. “What’s the sense of going down fighting? You can’t win, Davey. Take my word for it. You’ll be best off if you accept the buyout. Take the money, and a damn big hunk it is. Think with your wallet. Your wallet is your friend in need, and never forget it.”
“We’re joint owners,” Davey said, indicating Lara. “We’d have to agree on anything we do.”
“Well, you’d better come to a quick agreement. That’s all I can say.” Martin looked at his watch and stood up. “I’ve got to fly back. DeWitt, my partner, lost his wife, and the funeral’s tomorrow.” They went to the door. “If you’re the one who’s holding this up, Lara, you’re making a big mistake. Go along with Bennett, and Davey can have a big job with the company. Make an enemy of him, and you’ll regret it. Because I warn you, although I’ve told you before, when this offer is formally tendered to the stockholders, they are going to
vote against you.” He made a thumbs-down gesture. “I’ve got to hurry. Will you take me back to the airport, Davey?”
And Martin left, left in cold anger, Lara knew, scarcely shaking her hand.
Within her also, while she waited for Davey’s return, anger mounted. By the time he came home, it was ready to erupt.
“What do you mean,” she demanded as he came into the kitchen where she was furiously polishing silver that needed no polishing, “by letting me take the brunt of all that? You hardly opened your mouth. You acted as if you agreed with him, for God’s sake!”
“Maybe I felt discouraged, Lara. Maybe it’s occurred to me that it’s smart to know when you’re beaten.”
She stared at him. “I don’t believe you! Beaten!”
“You know the prayer, ‘Lord, give me the courage to accept the things I cannot change’?”
“I’m not ready to accept this. We can change it. We can.
“You heard what Martin said. You heard what Eddy said when this business was first proposed. The stockholders will vote to accept Bennett’s money. You know the shares can triple in value overnight, don’t you?”
“You can win them over if you try! You’ve always said they’re your friends.”
At this Davey held up a weary arm. “Stop. They
were
my friends.”
For a moment she was stunned. “Oh, you’re such a defeatist!” she cried then. “Do you actually
want
to give up? You sound as if you already have given up, as if
you’re just resigned to walking away from the Davis Company. Yes, go hand everything over to that creep Bennett. I’ll tell you something, Davey Davis: If those people win I won’t take a penny of their goddamned money. I won’t.”
“Maybe it’s you who wants to walk away. Walk away from this house and we’ll all go live in a tent, I suppose.”
“Of course I don’t want to.”
“Then stop talking like a child.”
“It’s not talking like a child to say that I won’t live here with a small fortune in my pocket while the people I grew up with have lost their livelihood through our fault. I’ll fight first.”
“Oh, fight! Big talk!” Davey glared at her. “When you’ve got a few million dollars so you can outbid Longwood’s offer and buy all the stock yourself, then come to me with your big talk about fighting. But since you haven’t got the millions, we’ll do a hell of a lot better to let them take the place and get paid so you and your kids won’t starve even if I should die tomorrow.”
“I’d never starve. I can work.”
“Tough talk, Lara. I didn’t know you could be so tough.”
She was not quite sure whether this was sarcasm, but she answered nevertheless, “Well, now you’re finding out.”
“Yes, and Martin’s finding out too.”
“Don’t think I enjoy being at odds with my sister’s husband. It’s pretty awful.”
This time the sarcasm was unmistakable. “Especially since he’s done a few small favors for us.”
“One thing has nothing to do with the other.”
“It has plenty to do with it. Think about it. If Peggy were—”
“Now stop right there, and listen to me. A while ago when we thought she was doomed, I understand how you could say you didn’t care what happened to the plant. I didn’t agree even then, but I understood. Now that she’s well, though, you’ve no excuse for talking like that—unless somebody’s brainwashed you or something. Yes, Martin’s brainwashed you, I see that.”
Davey turned on his heel. “Enough. I’m going inside to lie down. Keep the kids out of the den. My head’s splitting.” At the door he paused. “This has got to be decided one way or the other, Lara.”
“You’re right. But we’re deadlocked. We’re fifty-fifty. Deadlocked.”
“One of us has got to give way.”
“It won’t be me, Davey. I won’t sign anything. And it’s not only because of my social conscience. Oh, no! It’s you too—your product, your brains.
I
won’t give them up even if you’re willing to.”
Davey slammed the door.
Lara put the silver away and went outside into the waning afternoon. A chipmunk, surprised no doubt by the unexpected warmth when spring was still far off, emerged from his home in the stone wall; only his striped head with its bright black eyes was visible. Un-moving, the woman and the tiny creature observed each other. He, she thought, is probably thinking of going
back for more of the birdseed that drops from the feeder, while I—what am I thinking? That I could possibly be wrong and Davey right?
Through a gap in the hedge she could glimpse Peggy and her friend playing in the friend’s yard. The yellow jacket darted, the treble voice was lifted now in laughter. Had it ever seemed, during those dark months, that she would be running and screaming like this? Davey had lost hope, Lara thought. To tell the truth, I did, too, almost; and yet there was always something else inside me that said, Wait! It’s not over till it’s over.
A little ruefully, she had to smile. Maybe I get that from Peg, who never stopped believing that Pop would learn to stay sober, or even—who knows—from Pop, who never stopped believing that prosperity was just around the corner.
Presently she got up and went back indoors. Davey was still lying on the sofa, but hearing footsteps in the room, he opened his eyes.
“Angry?” she asked.
“Oh, I suppose not.” He never could be angry too long. “Just terribly worried.”
“I know. I am too. It seems that the minute you get over one awful thing, another comes along.” She sat down on the sofa and smoothed his forehead. “Don’t wrinkle it like that.”
“Can’t help it. I’m thinking. Is it possible that I’m giving in too easily?”
“Funny, I had just been thinking for a moment that maybe you could be right.”
“Only for a moment?”
“Yes. And then I thought, No, it’s not over till it’s over.”
They were both silent. Then Lara asked, “Shall we wait and see? Do nothing as long as we can?”
“I’m willing. To tell you the truth, I don’t seem to have enough energy for much else.”
News spread through the town. Someone from P.T.C. Longwood had planted an item in the local paper, attracting startled attention. The item, during the months that followed, was repeated and expanded. Davey was interviewed and coped with the rumors by affirming some, denying others, and carefully avoiding any definite conclusions. Stockholders and employees wrote letters to the editor. Nine out of ten, indignant, righteous, reasonable, or pathetic were against any change in the Davis Company. An editorial deploring the talk of a leveraged buyout gave unsavory details about Bennett, Bennett’s life-style, his salary, and the “disgraceful” perquisites that such a man enjoyed at the public’s expense.
Rumors were picked up by the statewide press in a series of articles about the takeover mania. From these it was deduced that the Davis Company’s plant was to be shut down and five hundred people put out of work. The news, spreading over one weekend, resulted in a great protest rally, led by schoolchildren carrying banners in the high school stadium, and attracted a crowd as large as the one that had assembled there for the Thanksgiving Day football game.
Lara worried. “Three women stopped me on the
street this morning. The latest talk is that the Japanese are going to buy the place and move it to North Carolina. Millie Corning was practically hysterical, telling me how her sister’s husband lost his job through a restructuring deal and then started to drink and hit the kids and how her sister attempted suicide. ‘Why doesn’t Davey tell us if something really is going on?’ she kept saying. It was awful.”
“Well, what answer did you give her?”
“I said of course you’d tell them if there was anything to tell, but that you had no intention of selling. People should know that by now.”
At an emotional meeting of his employees and their families, Davey spoke. With hands clenched and tears in his voice, he promised to fight Bennett and whip him. But driving home together afterward, he said to Lara, “We can’t win. I’ve canvassed, and I’ve had friends canvassing the stockholders for me. The stock’s already risen on rumors alone. So what do you think will happen when the offer’s on the table in black and white? They’ll take the lollipop instead of the good bread, and I’m certain of it. The damage has been done; they don’t trust me.”
“Davey, I don’t believe it for one minute. The business with Eddy is past and over. Everybody understands what really happened. People don’t hold anger forever.” She waited for comment, but since none came, she asked thoughtfully, “Don’t you think it’s mighty strange that we’ve heard nothing from Martin since he was here?”
“Not at all. Undoubtedly he expected to hear from us.
Undoubtedly he’s angry. So they’re going full-steam ahead, and he doesn’t want to go through any more emotional useless meetings with us.” Davey put a hand on hers. “Everything all right between Connie and you? You haven’t said, and I’ve been afraid to ask.”