The Tales of Ariel Brody Ch. 03

I've never been quite as involved with organized charities as perhaps I might have been. I just could never get off on giving to total strangers. Instead I've chosen to try to impact the lives of the people I've met over the years with some direct but unobtrusive help. It was always a lot more fun for me that way. What I've done however should in no way restrict what you do. Give it all to the Association to Combat Wet Dreams if you like; it's your show now.

John Lachlin over at Morgan Stanley is the Financial Adviser to both the Foundation and the Trust and although you can fire him, replace him, or do whatever you want, I'd advise you to consider keeping him because all four accounts have consistently outperformed the S&P 500 for the last twenty years.

Howard, you've been not only my best employee but more importantly my best friend. Look after Ariel. She doesn't need it but it'll be good for your soul. You two always got more accomplished when I stayed out of whatever it was. Have great lives, guys."

I couldn't help it. The tears were silently pouring.

McFarland continued, "Your investiture as Chairwoman... David would never tolerate my saying Chairperson...became effective at the moment his heart stopped beating, but you can have as much time as you want assuming the active reins."

McFarland went to a bar cart which had been wheeled into the room. "I think a toast is in order."

I dreaded the idea of more alcohol but the champagne tasted good. We toasted David and then left each to their own memories of him.

I had been in touch with all my professors and dove into my books so as to catch up. Fortunately this semester I had only one lab course in serology and the instructor and I worked it out so I could catch up remotely from the fully equipped Veterinary Lab at Gateway Farm until after the funeral. Dr. Hemphill, our in house Vet at the farm would act as proctor when needed. Immersing myself in work and school wasn't that strange an experience and it felt good thinking about something other than how much I missed David. I also squeezed in two quick trips to Louisville so that Lewis could instruct me in my responsibilities and duties as Chairwoman of a billion dollar charitable foundation.

A Maryland Farm was having a dispersal sale and Frank had flown up to look at some mares and foals he was thinking about buying. That meant Kathleen and I would be having dinner together without any male chaperones, interesting.

I left my class assignments for FedEx to pick up and went back to my bungalow to clean up and change for dinner. David was frequently away from the farm on weekends but my shower still felt a horribly lonely place. I took one of the golf carts up to the main house and instead of seeking out Kathleen I detoured into David's room. I reminded myself to call the medical equipment rental place about picking up the hospital bed and other specialized equipment, but not quite yet. I had been in the habit of reading to David each evening toward the end and we were half way through Khakec Hosseini's wonderful 'Kite Runner' when he died. I picked up the book and started reading. I started to masturbate as I read.

When I got to the kitchen Kathleen was giving the salad the finishing touches. "Wine with your meal?"

"I'm taking a break from alcohol. I think I'll stick to Pelegrino tonight."

"Too bad, you'll ruin my master plan to get you tipsy and seduce you."

I crossed the kitchen and came up behind her and kissed the back of her neck as I reached around her, put my hands under her shirt, and rubbed her nipples. "Look! Your master plan worked with just the booze left in my system from last night."

She turned around to face me. "It's working better than you think. I haven't started the lamb yet. It's in the oven on a timer which should give us about an hour. Your place or mine?"

"I don't think I'm ready to make love to anyone in David's bed yet. Let's use your room." I was running my fingertips up and down the backs of her arms.

The sex was nice. I don't think I'm ready to switch teams yet but this was the pleasant physical distraction that the frat house should have been. I think the excessive alcohol combined with the indiscriminate nature of the partner selection process spoiled any therapeutic qualities for that evening. I can't even remember if it was good sex or not. I guess David would have told me that if I couldn't remember the sex after only one night, no matter how much booze was involved, it couldn't have been very good. David was usually right.

Howard and I flew to National Airport the next morning to collect my father at Signature Aviation. I let Howard fly the trip back while I wept a little while wrapped in my Dad's arms.

Howard had taken care of the arrangements and the day of the funeral I was overwhelmed. The huge number of people had been shocking enough, but the celebrity of the crowd bowled me over; seven U.S. Senators, three sitting Governors, Congressmen that you counted like confetti, the Vice President of the United States, and a Supreme Court Justice. The media were out in force. Every network, every cable station, many foreign correspondents... I looked at Howard with an amazed look on my face. He came up to me at the wake. "Sorry, I should have warned you. David was always a pretty private person, but he had me twice as vigilant to protect your privacy. I suspected, though, that I wouldn't be able to do anything to stop this circus."

"Horseshit, Howard. The Vice President doesn't show up anywhere unannounced. Most of these people have social secretaries that had to do some last minute juggling to work this in. You had to know and you never hinted anything to me."

He smiled. "Okay boss lady, maybe I did want to throw you a curve or two. You should have seen your expression though, it was priceless."

"A curve or two? What other landmines await me?"

"I told everyone belonging to the Fourth Estate that you were strictly off limits until I had talked with you." He grinned again. "Wait 'till you see what happens when I put my glasses on! That's the agreed upon signal."

I put on my most pleading face. "Can I hide your glasses?"

"Sorry. Just remind yourself that you're doing it for David. Oh by the way, don't worry about questions about your and David's relationship. I made it very clear that that was inappropriate ground at a funeral. The questions will mostly revolve around your chairing the Foundation. You might get a few about your job at Gateway and your studies at Cornell."

"Okay, open the gates." Howard put his aviation glasses on. They were non-prescription on top reducing to sectional chart reading strength on the bottom.

It wasn't as bad as it could have been. Most of the most negative feeding frenzy characteristics of the press were kept to some extent in check by the setting. In fact this was one of those rare occasions where the members of the Third Estate actually accomplished something by interrupting the Fourth Estate with expressions of condolences.

It was going fairly well when my eye was caught by a young good looking reporter who walked over and asked me a question. "I was talking to Senator Lucas earlier and he remembers meeting you at a dinner party in Washington two years ago." I saw Howard's neck muscles tense up. "He might have been mistaken, though, as he seems to recall you as having been introduced as Mr. Knowles grandniece."

It was like a one act play staged in slow motion. Howard's head turned toward the reporter simultaneously with the reporter's facial expression conveying the realization that he had just committed journalistic suicide. Fortunately no one else had heard the question so I decided to intercede. I laced my arm into the reporters, steered him toward the bar, and threw Howard a look saying "We'll talk later."

"I remember that dinner very well just as I remember meeting Senator Lucas and his divine wife Elizabeth. David and my father were very good friends and the three of us decided that the 'grandniece' fiction made for less cumbersome introductions. We also suspected that being introduced as 'a friend's daughter' might subject me to speculation and innuendo. How'd we do with our assessment?"

He looked concerned. "You were probably right." His voice dropped an octave. "So what do you say, Tom, can you get me off the hook here?"

I smiled. "Abe Vigoda to Robert Duvall, the Godfather, 1972. Why'd you do it?"

He shook his head. "I knew I shouldn't have. I knew the rules. I'm not stupid. It's just that I felt like I had a precious, perishable...thing with the 'grandniece' bit I'd uncovered and I just blurted it out." He shook his head again. "Maybe I am stupid."

It was my turn to smile. "Probably, but I'll get you off the hook this time Sally."

"I owe you." I realized there was a whole lot of smiling going on. "Bob Grasso." He shook my hand. "I'm sincerely sorry for your loss."

I don't know what happened. I just started bawling. I was crying harder than at any time since David died. I buried my face in his shirt and cried uncontrollably muttering David's name and how much I missed him. He steered me into a side hallway and let me abuse his shirt for five minutes. After I composed myself and I started to rejoin the crowd he called after me. "Ariel." I turned. "You'll never see any of this in print, or hear it on the air."

"Thanks."

I was going to ride back to Gateway with Frank and Kathleen but I sought out Howard first.

"Ariel before you say a word you should know that we'll lose credibility with the rest of the media if I give this asshole a pass. He knew better and he chose to ignore the ground rules I'd laid down." I didn't say a word. "Ariel it shouldn't matter that you think he's cute. Stop thinking with your crotch."

"I'm not and it doesn't matter what he looks like. Remember meeting me outside the Hilton in D.C. after Luis had his 'accident'?" It was Howard's turn to be quiet, but I had his attention. "You told me that David took care of life's innocents and woes betide all the bad guys. Lewis McFarland's been drumming it into my head for our last two meetings that my primary responsibility at the foundation is to help those individuals my gut says are deserving, not just the formulaic needy. This kid may be an eager beaver idiot, but what he did was screw up. He wasn't trying to be an attack dog. After I had my emotional meltdown this afternoon he assured me that none of what transpired would ever make it into print. I believe him." I stood on my toes and kissed his cheek. "Call it my first action as the new Chairwoman. Let him slide." I turned to leave and as I was about to exit the room I threw over my shoulder "He did have a cute ass, though, didn't he?" I didn't wait for Howard's response.