Date: Thu, 20 Jul 2017 15:43:24 -0500 From: Eric Trager Subject: It Is What It Is - Chapter 47 Please don't forget to donate to Nifty if you enjoy reading the stories! Email feedback can be sent to trager2275@gmail.com. © 2015 by Eric Trager. Yahoo group: https://groups.yahoo.com/IIWII CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN "Whadya think we should do?" "I think I need to make a will for one thing... I mean, ya never know." "I don't wanna think about that, but I think you're right." "I'll call Dix and have him make an appointment for me to see his dad." "Dix is in England, Einstein..." "Oh yeah... Fine, I'll just call George directly then. You wanna come with when I go?" "Yeah, I guess so... I should probably make a will, too. I mean, what if Berrifield HAD shot me? What if instead of a concussion I ended up a vegetable, or dead? You really DO never know..." Andy picked up his phone and in a couple minutes told Sean they had an appointment on Friday afternoon to see George Dickson at his office downtown. "He says it won't be simple for us to do what we want to do because we're both minors, but that there's ways we can do it. And it's gonna require dad to sign off on it because he's your parent and my guardian." "Welp, I suppose we should talk to dad about it, then. We'll talk to him tonight." "I think he'll be fine with it once he sees the paperwork I got from Crossman." "I'd fucking hope so, or the way things stand you know who's gonna be in for the kill... It'll be your Uncle Dean." "Fuck! I never fucking thought of that! You're right! The fucker... I still don't know why he just dropped his lawsuit so quick. That just didn't smell right if ya ask me." "Me neither. He seemed like kind of a dick." "He is a dick. I never heard my mom say a good word about him. After dad died, he seemed like he enjoyed sticking it to her even though she loaned him some money to start his business. Say, I wonder..." "Uh-oh, you got that evil look in your eye..." "Well, there IS something in the Crossman paperwork that I'll ask George about..." "OK, but let's just see what dad has to say. That evening after dinner, Andy and Sean found Joe in his study buried in paperwork as usual. "Hey, dad...got a minute?" Andy said. "OK, what now, you two..." "OK, I got the accounting for my mom's estate from Crossman today and I'd like you to look it over. We've already looked at it. It looks fine to us, but I'd just like you to have a look at it, too..." Andy said, handing the printout to Joe. "OK, well let's see what we got here then!" Joe took the paper and read it over. "Well, let me ask you this – is this at all what you were expecting?" "Um, no. Not at all..." "OK, let's see what it comes to. I think you told me your mom had a life insurance policy and one from her work, but there are two policies from your mom, and then the work policy. One is a five-million-dollar policy and the other one is a one-million-dollar policy. The work policy is $250,000. The IRA it says here is $437,000 and change. Then there's some stocks that have a market value of about a hundred grand. So, that adds up to about just short of seven million." "And that's on top of what we already have which is like almost $2 million each," Sean added. "Right, but look here," Andy said pointing to a line on the page for Joe to read. "Yes, it says there is a $350,000 note receivable from a Dean R. DeBoer. That would be your Uncle Dean..." "Yeah. And there's a copy of the note, too. I think it's the last page." Joe thumbed through the pages and read the note. "Looks legit to me. It's signed by all parties and notarized. The principal, interest, and other terms are clearly stated. So, what's your question, Andrew?" "Well, dad, it's an awful lot of money. Sean-o and me were talkin' and we think we both need to make wills in case something happens. Not just for us, but for the kids. I mean this whole last year's been..." "Yes, Andrew, I know what it's been. And I think you are both right. See, if you die with no will stating otherwise, everything you have would..." "Go to Uncle Dean. He's my next of kin." "Exactly." "And I don't want that to happen. And now that I know about that note, I intend to collect on it since it was my mom who lent him her own money and he wouldn't help her when she needed it. I knew she lent him some money, but I had no idea it was THAT much and no idea that he never paid her back. Mom never said a word about it to me... I swear... And I don't wanna be an ass, but..." "You're not being an ass. Either he proves he paid the note off, or you collect on it. It's that simple. He's the one that contracted the debt, not anyone else..." "Yeah, but look at the date on the note. It's dated about two months before my dad died. There's no way he ever paid off on it. If he did, we'd never have been foreclosed on. Our house wasn't even worth that much at the time. If he paid the note, mom could have kept the house!" "Well, if Dean paid, he'd have to show proof of payment as well as a release because as you see, the note is secured by a mortgage recorded as a lien against his house. So, Old Dean gave a mortgage to your mother... The document number of the recording at the Harris County Courthouse in Houston is written in the note, see here?" Joe pointed to the paper. "And you can't record a note against a property, you have to record a mortgage to secure the note. So, this is a huge plus for you – you have a note secured by a mortgage. AND...the note is past its maturity date, so if you wished you could foreclose on his house if he doesn't pay you. I'll ask Ginny to have her Title Company do a rundown on Dean's title to find out if there's a first mortgage outstanding on it because if there is then you are in second position, but if there's not a first mortgage, well then, that'd be a whole different ballgame." "OK, well, we're going to see George on Friday afternoon about the wills. We'll ask him what to do about the note." "And, dad, there's the Kennedy wake thing on Friday, too. We'll go see George and then we'll go to the wake. You might be eating dinner with Mrs. Cheadle," Sean smirked. "Blimy! I'll have the haggis, please!" Joe joked in a horrid attempt at a British accent. "That's fine, guys. I haven't got to talk to her much anyway." Friday afternoon came with Andy and Sean parking on the old parking plaza over the Rock River of which part ran behind the imposing, historically-registered Hayes Block building which the offices of A.W. Dickson, LLP* occupied. They strode into the lobby, walking up to one of the 1915 Otis elevators installed during a renovation of the building, waiting for the car to come taking them to George's office on the fourth floor, overlooking the river. Ushered in to George's office, George had them sit down at the conference table. "OK, guys, tell me what ya want. Or I guess it's Andy." George pointed his index finger at Andy saying, "OK, Andy, and go..." Andy handed George the printout from Crossman's office and asked him to read it. George did so, looked up and said to Andy, "I see now why you wanted to make a will. That's fine, but it's going to be a little bit of a process to get it done..." "I don't understand," Andy said. "OK, well, under Wisconsin Law a person can make a will IF they are eighteen years of age, or more. Neither one of you is eighteen yet." "Um, no... We're not... So, I can't make one, is that what you're saying?" "Not at all. A minor CAN make a will under Wisconsin Law, but ONLY IF they are married, or in anticipation of being married." "What's the law for getting married?" Sean asked. "Well, Sean, it's eighteen just like for a will UNLESS you are over sixteen and your parent or legal guardian signs for you. In that case the minimum age is sixteen." "Let me get this straight," Andy said. "I can't make a will today on my own because I'm only seventeen, but if I was married to Sean I could and all we need to get married is Joe's signature..." "That's half right, Andy..." George said. "You can make a will IN ANTICIPATION OF being married. You both could. You have to understand that without you two being married, or anticipating being married, there is no provision under Wisconsin Law allowing you to make a will until you are eighteen. That's how it goes. If you are underage, which you are, and you wish to create a will then the only way under Wisconsin Law for you to accomplish that is to get married for which you both will need Joe's signature. For Andy as his Guardian, and for Sean as his parent. I'd get married as quickly as possible if I were you guys because, in my opinion anyway, the way the wills statute is written is not one-hundred percent clear and is open to interpretation. It would appear to me that leaving things open to interpretation is not an advisable course of action when it comes to your Uncle Dean." "What do you think we should do, George?" Sean asked. "Well, between both of you, your assets are far from trivial. If you were married, then all becomes marital property EXCEPT FOR Andy's inheritance from his mother. Inheritances are not marital property in Wisconsin, but he can take care of that with a will. So, it is for the two of you to decide what to do. As it is now, should Andy die intestate*** everything Andy's got would go to his Uncle Dean. Even if you were married, Dean could conceivably make a claim on the assets Andy has that he inherited from his mother that are not marital property. And that includes the note and mortgage Dean gave to your mother, Andrew... "I'd say what you end up doing depends on how you wish to protect each other, and protect Sean's sons who would not be Andy's sons in the event Sean died. In order to do that there would have to be an adoption and a minor can never adopt another minor. I'll tell you what I'd do if I were you, guys. We can make wills right now. As I said, wills can be done for minors in anticipation of marriage. If you wish to marry which I recommend simply for the sake of clarity, I can prepare the marriage license application and you guys'll need to have Joe sign off on it. Just follow the instructions on the first page of the form... Now, that's what I recommend, but in the end, it's up to you." "What do you think, And?" "Well, Sean-o, since we're here and since we already pretty much decided it's a good idea I say we go ahead with it." "Yeah, I think so, too..." George prepared both wills and had them witnessed and notarized. Sean's was the easier of the two since he simply made Andy the sole heir of his estate and granted him guardianship over Joey and Lennie provided Andy was of age, and expressed the wish that Andy adopt the twins. If Andy was not of age, then Joe would be guardian and in the event Joe predeceased Sean, Tim and Brett would be guardians. Andy's will, since his assets were more diverse than Sean's andnow materially eclipsed Sean's as well, made Sean and any children joint heirs, seventy percent for Sean and thirty percent for any children there might be. It specified a trust be set up for any minor children and appointed Sean and the Managing Partner of A.W. Dickson, LLP as Joint Fiduciaries for the trust. It also assigned Dean's note payable and mortgage to Sean. Once that was done, Andy asked George what to do about the note he now held for which his Uncle Dean was responsible. George laughed, saying, "Andrew, Ginny already sent me over the title rundown on your Uncle Dean's primary residence against which there is a mortgage recorded to secure the note. Apparently, Joe asked her to look into it and she had an idea you'd be coming to see me. It appears there was a first mortgage when Dean bought the house which has been paid off as there is a corresponding mortgage release recorded. There is no release recorded for the note you hold. There are no other liens against the property meaning that you stand in first position. I recommend that you have me as your Attorney fire off a demand letter to Dean. A demand letter would simply inform Dean that you now hold the note, and that you are, well, demanding immediate payment in full. Payment in full in this instance would mean principle and accrued interest as I didn't see any penalties set forth in the note. So, it would be $350,000 plus simple interest at 5% annually for about ten years. The total amount due would be in the neighborhood of $525,000 unless a lesser amount were negotiated and accepted by you. I must warn you that if you are forced to foreclose in order to be made whole, a foreclosure proceeding takes about a year. You probably wouldn't want a house in Houston anyway. What would you do with it..." "Now I know why he thought he was gonna take me. It's so he'd be my guardian and he could get his hands on what mom left me. He must have had some idea of how much it was gonna be. Had to have. Betcha anything," Andy said with more than a hint of venom in his voice. "Send the letter, George." "It'll be in Monday's outgoing mail," George replied. "I imagine your Uncle will have an Attorney contact me back. I won't provide him with any documents other than the note and mortgage as settling an estate is a Court proceeding and if he needs anything else, either I will provide it with your permission, or he can get what he needs from the Kenosha County Probate Court." "I know you'll handle it right, George. If an Attorney calls you can give him what's appropriate. I just want this done with." "Very good. I'd expect I'll hear from your Uncle, or his Attorney at some point next week." "What if we don't?" "We send a second letter, again demanding payment and informing your Uncle that the filing of both a Lis Pendens** and a foreclosure suit in Harris County, Texas is occurring simultaneously with the sending of the second letter. An old College buddy of mine has a Law Office in Austin, so I'd have him handle that because I'm a member of the Bar in Wisconsin, Illinois, Iowa, Michigan, Minnesota, Arizona and Florida, but not Texas. I doubt it will come to that, though... No businessman wants his name in the paper as a defendant in a foreclosure suit, plus it would ruin his credit. Don't worry, he'll pay up. I would expect an Attorney's opening gambit on Dean's side to be that the note died along with your mother. That's not true as both the note and the mortgage name your mother as well as her heirs and/or assigns as the creditor and mortgagee. You are her heir. Therefore, the note and the mortgage are still good and you hold both. You should carry that note on your personal books in the amount of $350,000 as an asset under the category Note Receivable." "OK, sounds good," Andy said. "Now what if he tries to negotiate a lower payoff? Like say he tries to get out of paying the interest, or something..." "Right, then at that point whether, or not to play hardball with him, or to give him a break would be your call. Now, here's the marriage license application and instructions on the first page like I said. You'll both need to go down the Court House, with Joe. Joe has to sign, but he has to do it in front of an employee of the County Clerk's office. It won't take but a few minutes. Have you guys thought where you'd like to be married? You want a big wedding like Tim had, or..." "I think you could just do it here in your office, George," Sean said. "At some later date, we could have a real ceremony." "Yeah, that's the best thing to do," Andy agreed. "Besides, we don't really belong to a Church like you guys do, so that's kinda out anyway..." "Alright, guys, so is that all for today?" George smiled. "Yeah," Sean answered. "We gotta go to that Kennedy wake now anyway. I don't really wanna go but we're doing it for J.R." "I see..." George replied. "Yes, Peg and I are gonna go pay our respects at some point, too. Not that Kennedy was my best friend, or anything, but it's just what people do. Besides, people would talk if we didn't show up." Once out of the Hayes Block, the boys made their way to the funeral home which was near Craig High School. Parking the car and walking in, Sean turned to Andy, "I have no idea what to expect here..." "Me neither. We don't have to stay long if it's not good. Did you bring the paper with the twins' names on it for Colleen's casket?" "Nah, Ginny said she'd do that. I don't wanna take the chance that someone thinks I'm monkeying with a dead body... Least of all Colleen's dead body..." Entering the Funeral Home, they saw the sign for Kennedy and followed it into a large reception room. The room was dead quiet other than the muted tones of what to the boys could only be described as funeral parlor music. They spied Kathleen and J.R. near the front of the room standing next to a middle-aged woman they both figured must be Mrs. Kennedy. "OK, well, here goes nuthin'!" Sean said. "Let's just get this over with," Andy agreed. Both boys made their way toward the front of the room going to Kathleen first. Sean gave her a hug and told her he was sorry. She thanked him for coming, being just as likeable as she always was. She treated Andy with the same appreciation for his kindness. Sean sucked in a large gulp of air, steeled himself and moved on to Mrs. Kennedy. Arriving in front of her, he offered his hand. "Mrs. Kennedy, we've never met. I'm..." "You're Sean Wyman. Yes, I know who you are," she said in such a way as to betray nothing. "I thought you might come. I asked the Funeral Director to reserve a small room. Follow me, please." Sean turned, looked at Andy, shrugged, and followed Mrs. Kennedy down a hallway. "Right in here," Mrs. Kennedy said, ushering Sean into a room, entering herself and then shutting the door. Sean took a chair and sat down, adopting a wait-and-see attitude. He'd never met the woman before and didn't know what to expect. As well, he knew she'd never met him and didn't know what she should expect, either. "Sean, is it alright is I call you Sean?" she began to which Sean simply nodded his head, "I'm glad you came. You're probably wondering why I'd want to speak with you and what I have to say..." "The, uh, thought had crossed my mind," Sean answered still with no idea what the woman wanted. "I'll get to the point. I just lost my husband and my oldest child. A lot of people think I'm not that bright, but I know what Bill and Colleen did to you. Everyone thought I drank, too, but that was all just an act. I'd fix myself one weak drink in the morning and fill it all day long with seltzer water. They more out of it they thought I was, the more I could observe. I'll get the ten million he sold the business for and I had a very healthy life insurance policy on Bill to boot, so you don't have to worry about me being after your money. This is a small town you know, Sean, and everyone who's anyone knows your family aren't paupers." Sean laughed at that. "No, it's true... We're not old money like you, but we're not paupers." "Anyway, as for Bill, he was my husband in name only. I know what he did to his brother when he took the company. He knew I knew all about it, too, and the price for me maintaining my lifestyle was my silence. It was a deal with the devil, but it was a deal I had to make. By that time, I had two kids and in this town people of our status don't divorce. We sweep our scandals under the carpet. I might not look it at my age, but I was a trophy wife to Bill when we got married. That's all I ever was. He was a Kennedy with the road construction business. My family name is Fitzpatrick, the ones with the building construction business. He wanted to get his hands on some of that, too. The old Janesville Irish Mafia, you know... Yes, I'm sorry Bill's dead, but he took his own life. Truth be told, I won't miss him. As for Colleen, I warned her three, or four years ago that she was letting herself in for trouble with the booze and the drugs. Like I said, I knew what she was doing. It wasn't hard to figure out... Bill for some reason I don't know wouldn't take the proper steps with Colleen. She got good grades in school and he didn't think anything was wrong. He wouldn't let me take steps with her, either. Anyone could see she was out of control, but Bill was never around and Colleen knew how to fool him, I guess... I warned Colleen that she could end up dead, or worse, but she never listened to anything I ever said. She knew her father didn't think anything was wrong and around our house it was what Bill said, and that was the end of it. I counted for nothing except maybe a way for Bill to worm his way into the Fitzpatrick businesses which I told him many times would never happen. I've got four brothers and they never liked him. I'm sorry you had to get sucked into our mess, Sean. No parent should have to bury their child, and it tears me apart that I wasn't able to do something before it was too late, but I can't turn the clock back." "I'm sorry, Mrs. Kennedy..." "Please, call me Rose. It's short for Rosemary." "Very well. I'm sorry, Rose..." "You've done nothing to be sorry for, Sean. Yes, I know all the details of what happened between you and Bill and between you and Colleen. Why do you think I haven't said anything until now? Bill wouldn't have it, so I couldn't say anything, and then in the end I was thankful to you for putting Colleen in that Convent instead of letting her be sent off to jail while she was pregnant. As rotten as she was, she was still carrying my grandchildren. I figured the babies would be born and then there would be a trial and nobody could do anything about the trial anyway... They had Colleen dead to rights. I knew you would end up with the babies. Anyone with half a brain could have figured that out..." "How do you know all of these details? I mean, nothing was really in the press, and there hasn't been a trial yet..." "No, but don't forget that I was home when the Police searched our house. I knew exactly why they were there. And I have an old, shall we say, `friend' pretty high up in the Police Department. He knew Bill would keep me in the dark, so he filled me in on what he could... It was all very hush-hush, but it was enough information for me to know what the truth was." "I never meant that anyone should get hurt, never mind die," Sean said. "Of course you didn't. You didn't hurt anyone, and you didn't kill anyone." "I know that. I simply wanted you to know that, too." "I never thought that. You're the victim here. Anyway, I want to get to the point of why I asked to talk to you." "Sure," Sean said wondering what would come next. "I don't have a lot to do all day sometimes as you might guess, so I did some research online about your family. You know, just public records and stuff. I know that you lost your mother when you were thirteen, or fourteen maybe..." "Thirteen." "Yes, and I'm sorry. It must have been very hard for you. Anyway, I have two grandsons now. And I know they have a Grandfather, but they don't have a Grandmother. All little boys need a Grandmother. Especially little boys who don't have a mother. I realize they're just babies and wouldn't notice they don't have a Grandmother right now, but if we can I'd like it if we could get past all of this and I'd like to be part of their lives. I realize that decision is up to you, but I'd like it if we could try. Do you play golf?" "Not very well, I don't..." Sean said. "Well, I'm not that good at it, either. Can I invite you and Andy to the Club for a round sometime next week? Maybe in the morning play nine holes and then lunch after? And don't worry, I know who Andy is, too... You don't have to answer me now, but if you would just consider it." "Andy and I will be there. Just let us know the tee time." "I appreciate it, Sean. I know all of this will take a little while to put behind us, but I hope we can." "Very well. We can try to do that," Sean answered, still at least a little bit wary. "Alright, I won't keep you any longer. Is there anything you'd like to ask me?" "I don't think so, Rose. At least not right now..." "OK, well, let's get back to the wake. I'm only going to stay a little while longer myself. I've paid my dues over the years... And I have to get up early tomorrow and pack Bill and Colleen's things to be sent to Goodwill." "Sure, I guess I'm finished, too." Sean said, somewhat surprised at Mrs. Kennedy's speed in clearing the belongings of her late husband and daughter out of her house. "Oh, and about your brother, John. He's delightful. He's so earnest. And unlike Colleen, I've never had to worry a minute about Kathleen. I know they're a couple, and I approve. I just wanted you to know that." "Glad to hear that, and just so you know, I've always gotten along with Kathleen. John's had a tough life until he came to us, and she's good for him. I approve, too." "Good. Well, let's go back out there, then!" "Alright, and thanks. I didn't know what to expect, and as long as you meant what you said, then yeah, I think we can work things out." "I meant what I said, Sean..." Returning to the main parlor, Sean and Rose walked back to the front of the room. Sean found Andy, whispered to him that they were alright to take their leave now. Back in the car, Andy turned to Sean saying, "So... Like what did Mrs. Kennedy want with you?" "Well, in a nutshell she wants to be a Grandmother to the twins. I mean, I'd never met her before. I'm a little bit skeptical, but she seemed really nice... She knew everything, I mean the truth about everything... Not at all what I expected. She didn't have anything good to say about Bill or Colleen, either, that's for sure... She wants us to play a round of golf and have lunch with her next week. I told her we'd do it. I mean, it won't cost us anything to be nice and figure out if she's being real..." "Um, OK... Well, I guess we could give her a chance..." "She spoke highly of the Bambino, too." "Oh, Christ, if she only knew..." Andy chuckled. "Remember the time he got you to put the dildo in the dishwasher and dad found it? Or the time he asked us to tell him about getting cornholed the right way?" "Jesus Christ!' Sean laughed, rolling his eyes. "Yeah, well, I'm gonna skip telling her any of those stories for now I think..." Wednesday was set as the day Sean and Andy would meet Rosemary Kennedy at the Country Club for a round of golf and some lunch. All three of them met at the appointed time at the Starter's Hut. They would play the back nine that day which would bring them up to finish just outside the clubhouse where Mrs. Kennedy had reserved an outdoor table for lunch. Sean and Andy were a bit surprised that Mrs. Kennedy hadn't ordered a golf cart, and would walk the course with them and their Caddies. She seemed to be in a good mood, but did not talk about anything of importance. It was as if the threesome were simply out for a friendly round of golf. Andy proved to be the best of the three that morning, finishing the nine holes with a four-over-par score of 40. Sean, still maddeningly, at least to him, struggling with the game posted a score of 49 and Mrs. Kennedy beat him by one stroke coming in at 48. "Sean, who built your swing for you?" she asked. "The Pro out here," Sean answered. "Well, yes, he's very good, but I don't think it's the right swing for you. It's a swing for a player who can't get the power behind the ball that you can. Go see the Pro out at Glen Erin and tell him I sent you. You know, just a second opinion... Anyway, let's get some lunch..." Seated, and drinks ordered both boys noted that Mrs. Kennedy ordered iced tea, unsweetened. Upon the waiter's return, all three placed their lunch orders. "I'm glad you two agreed to meet me today," Mrs. Kennedy said. "Hopefully we can regard today as a first step, or something along those lines..." "Excuse me for being a bit skeptical, Mrs. Kennedy..." Andy said, somewhat intently. "Please... Call me Rose..." "OK, Rose. Excuse me for being skeptical, but we're about a week away from what your husband and daughter put Sean through for the last nine months. I'm willing to give anyone a chance, but don't you think it's kind of soon?" "Yes, I can understand why it would look that way... And I can understand a person would think that it's prudent to be skeptical. I guess all I can do is try to earn your trust. As I told Sean, all little boys need a Grandmother, so I'd really like to try, of course if that's acceptable..." At that, Andy seemed to soften somewhat. "Well, what do you think, Sean-o?" "I agree that little boys are better off if they have a nice Grandmother. Especially if they don't have a mother... I also agree that it's not outlandish given the circumstances to be skeptical of other people's motives. That said, you and I have to admit that as far as we know Rose had nothing to do with what happened. I'd like to do this if everyone agrees. I'd like us to meet again, and I'd like to invite Ginny. She knows how to cut something down to its essentials, and she also knows everyone involved. So?" "I guess that sounds OK..." Andy said. "I'd be just fine with that," Rose said. "I haven't spoken to Ginny in probably years..." "Very well, I'll call Ginny and arrange it," Sean said. "Bill was her son, you know..." "We knew that, Rose," Sean said. "And since that makes Ginny the twins' Great-grandmother, we'll trust her opinion here." "I agree," Andy said. "OK, let's try for same time next week, does that work for you, Rose?" "I'm sure it will, and if it doesn't then I'll make time. So, yes... I know I have an appointment with an interior decorator at some point... The house was totally remodeled years ago and according to Bill's tastes in what was right to do. I always hated how it was done. It's a Victorian and he made it look like it was built fifteen years ago. It's hideous! I want to have it restored..." "I um..." Andy started out, "I did the interior at the Alamo... If you want I could, um, come and take a look..." "He did a great job, too," Sean added. "Even Ginny was floored." "Call me, Andy, and we'll make an appointment for you to come over. I'd like all the advice I can get. Like I said, I want a restoration. The house was built in 1894, and that's how I want it to look. There are some original photos of the interior that I have, too. I don't mind any expense. I can afford it." "Your family is in building and construction, no?" Andy asked. "Yes." "So, if I draw up plans can they do the work? I mean, can they find craftsmen who can make an old Victorian look like an old Victorian?" "I should think so. I mean, they did the restoration on Milwaukee City Hall... That's from 1895, I think... I have to say, I didn't think of asking my family!" "OK, so I'll come over, take some photos and work up some drawings and stuff." "I'd like that, Andy. Thank you." "Well, it'll be more experience I suppose. Just so I know, when you say you want a restoration, how far do you want to go?" "I want it to look like it did when it was built. Now, I know I'll have to be creative in the kitchen fitting modern appliances into a house that age, and I'd like to have the heating and air-conditioning looked at. Otherwise, I want original. And as I said, I have the money..." "Well, that's good," Andy said with a grin. "I was there one night for a party, and I can tell you that the entire verandah that goes around the house needs to be looked at. You got a fair amount of rotting structure there... I know the construction is wood, but you can replace the supporting works in stone, or brick and the decking with an engineered product. It'll last forever... It will be appropriate if it's done right, too. How long do you see yourself staying in that house?" "Well, I'll probably live there until Kathleen's done with College, and then it'll be time to downsize. Or I might keep it... Maybe Kathleen will want it for her family someday and I'll have to move anyway. Who knows? I just want the house to look like it should. Bill butchered it, that's for sure, but if it didn't have the lines that it does, and if it wasn't on a corner lot and didn't have that verandah and that huge, two-story garage then I might not do this, but it does and I want to... I think the garage was originally a horse stable... It's a unique house." Andy had to admit, "Yes, it is..." "And, you know..." Mrs. Kennedy said, "if I sell too soon people will talk. There's always the busybodies and I've pretty much ignored them for years... Half of them are the girls I went to High School with, and the other half are their senile, old hen mothers. I really don't care what they think to a certain degree. Trust me, they're all talking amongst themselves about how lucky I am that Bill died anyway... Besides, there's nowhere else for me to really move that I can see. What, buy a ranch in Hawthorne Park? Not that I'd care, it's a perfectly nice, established neighborhood. The houses are smaller than I have, which would be nice now, but I'd answer endless questions about Bill dying and me `moving down'... If I have work done over on St. Lawrence they'll just say Bill should have done that..." TWO WEEKS LATER The dining room table at the Alamo groaned with the weight of a Summer feast. The occasion was Sean's eighteenth birthday. Fresh Gazpacho, Caesar Salad, Roasted corn on the cob, grilled Bratwurst with sauerkraut and Peggy Dickson's award-winning burgers. For desert, there was fresh strawberry shortcake drenched in sweet heavy cream. Beverages, other than the Champagne to be served with the meal were a selection of locally brewed Gray's beers and ales as well as Gray's sodas. Sean scratch-made the burger and brat buns as well as the shortcakes earlier in the day, and John ably assisted with the rest of the meal including a scratch-made red velvet cake. Andy decorated the dining room and ordered the floral arrangements. As a hat-tip to Joe, George and David, Sean made sure there was a batch of Shit-on-a-Shingle at the ready, too. Even if no one ate it, he figured they'd get a kick out of it. The guest list for the evening was George and Peggy Dickson, Kevin and David Dickson, Herb and Marilyn Dowling, Tim, Brett, Danny, Jim Nolan and Kathleen. And of course, Ginny. Mrs. Cheadle would be at the table, too, although Sean had to practically order her to attend. She had her stubborn and very British notion of what was upstairs and what was downstairs. Sean only won the argument by suggesting that the twins be placed in the Butler's Pantry so that Mrs. Cheadle could keep an eye on them during the meal for which he endured an English tongue-lashing, but in the end he got Mrs. Cheadle's agreement. The dinner party was regaled with stories of London. Everywhere they visited and all the people they met. Tim was especially proud that they'd had the next-door neighbors over for cocktails. "Yeah, they were really nice!" Tim said. "See, we didn't know that their house used to be owned by a Prime Minister. Her name was Hatcher..." "Thatcher!" Brett corrected, rolling his eyes. "Whatever, but the guy, he turned out to be the British Defense Minister and he got us tickets to go to the House of Commons for Prime Minister's Questions. That's where like Big Ben is! I couldn't fucking believe it!" "Timothy!" Peggy admonished him. "Watch your mouth!" "Sorry, mom, but the House of Commons is in this room, and it isn't really all that big and it's got like stadium seating on both sides and a big table in the middle. There's some dude in the middle and he says who gets to talk and then he bitches at them if he feels like they're taking too long, or whatever. They have all these weird rules. Anyway, all they do is stand up and insult each other! But their insults are really cool... And the thing is, it looked like they all knew what they were talking about, I mean not like here where everyone sounds like a d-bag! It was like the coolest thing! Then, if the Prime Minister insults someone everyone sitting behind him goes `ar-ar-ar' or something like that... It was just too cool! And he got us a tour of a Navy ship. I think the name of the ship's name was Dauntless. It was pretty big, anyway. They said it's a Destroyer. Did you know that their Navy ships are called `Her Majesty's Ship' and then the name? Like ours was Her Majesty's Ship Dauntless. I mean like how awesome is that! The Queen owns the whole Navy!" "Timmy," George said, "a Destroyer is a medium-size ship, but they're designed to wreak havoc. And, yes, the Queen is the Commander-in-Chief of the British armed forces, so of course it's Her Majesty's Ship..." "Well, it was awesome like Tim said..." Jim Nolan interjected. "The British don't act any different than we do, and the beer was awesome! The best beer was the one in front of me..." "Oh, yes, I remember Margaret and Denis Thatcher," Ginny said. "Denis was her husband. Golfer. Enjoyed a very dry gin martini, or three or four, and he swore like a sailor... She was all business, but after a Scotch, or two she loosened up. No one else knows this, but she's the one got me started smoking cigars... She'd have one in the evening with her Scotch every now and then. She liked Cubans... I remember she came over one time to tell me they were selling as they didn't need the house anymore and invited me to lunch at Number Ten**** the next day. I think that was 1985, or '86, or so... She'd been Prime Minister for years at that point, but she never acted any different than just a neighbor. Really down-to-Earth people... The house has been sold a couple times since then. In the end, the people in her own party did her in. I told her to watch her back, but..." "You met a British Prime Minister?" Brett asked. "Well, she was my neighbor for years before that, so I didn't think of her that way... She was just my neighbor... They were good neighbors...sensible people. I liked them. Now, their son, Mark, he was probably thirty, give-or-take at the time and let me tell you, he was a hornbill... Tall, and good-looking, too. And he had a Schwantz!" Ginny fanned herself, "My God!" "Ginny!" Tim exclaimed. "TMI!" "Well, he was and he did..." Ginny said with a wink. "I was widowed at the time, and, well...he WAS a hornball! I never claimed to be an angel, and I'm certainly not a prude... I wasn't much older than him at the time... When they moved, she thanked me for always having been kind to her son." The entire table broke up in peals of laughter, including Mrs. Cheadle who reminded everyone that even though it was a funny story she nevertheless was a good Tory voter. Sean asked Joe to put it about that no gifts should be brought for him. He reckoned he didn't need anything but suggested that instead the guests could make a donation to a charity of their choice if they wished. The guests were at sixes and sevens, though, about what would be appropriate gifts for two babies beginning life with every advantage. It was settled upon giving Sean and Andy a choice. Either $10,000 put into an investment account for College, or fully-paid tuition vouchers for their first two years of schooling at Saint John Vianney school. After some thought, the tuition vouchers were accepted. Sean and Andy both felt that although they were not Catholic they could see by their own experience as students, as the years went by, the quality of the public-school curriculum no longer entirely, if at all, rested in the hands of local communities, and how it seemed to twist to and fro at the whim of politicians whom they both, especially Sean, abhorred. Given that, then the best early educational opportunity for the twins might just be at Saint John's they reasoned. All three of the Dickson's sons obviously solid educations sold them after checking on the average test scores of Saint John's versus the local public schools. Besides, Sean and Andy already had money for the twins' College, or Professional education put aside. Sean and Andy later decided the vouchers would be donated at the appropriate time, and in the twins' names, to families for whom such assistance could make a difference. "Well, Father Taylor's gonna have two more little brats to deal with I can see!" Tim laughed. "Sir!" Mrs. Cheadle spoke up. "They'll not be brats! You can bloody well be assured of THAT!" The room broke up in laughter which took Mrs. Cheadle by surprise and prompted David Dickson to slap his younger brother on the head saying, "Timmy sticks his foot in it once again..." "What? Like YOU'RE Mister Freaking DIPLOMAT over there, or something?" Tim razzed his brother back. "Li'l bro, the whole point is when to know it's OK to make an ass of yourself, and when it isn't..." "Oh, so like I'm the ass now!" Tim said, red faced. Again, the entire room broke up laughing, Tim and David joining in and high-fiving to which Mrs. Cheadle was mortified. "Don't knock over the service!" she ordered when their hands got too close to the champagne flutes. "Sorry there, SERGEANT CHEADLE," David said. "Hey, which one of us out-ranks the other anyway..." "As long as you are in a house where Joseph and Leonard are in my care, Sergeant Dickson, then I'm sorry," she said looking at Sean then back at David, "but your bloody arse is mine..." David's jaw dropped. "Sir!" Mrs. Cheadle finished just as Joey and Lennie could be heard, sounding hungry. "Well, it sounds like Joseph and little Leonard want a feeding," Mrs. Cheadle switched gears in her inimitable way. "I'd like to feed them both at once if we could, so Mrs. Dickson, I'm sure the little ones would appreciate two of us..." "Oh, I fed, and burped and watched three of `em piss and shit now, Mrs. Cheadle," Peggy replied in her own low-key way. "You just show me how you want `em to be handled and we'll be good, don'tcha know, now... I told Sean a long time ago to call me Mom, so I guess those two little ones can call me Grandma..." To which Sean and Andy both nodded. "Grandma Dix," Sean said with a half-smirk. "You're fucking Nanny is the fucking balls!" David said, getting an elbow from his older brother Kevin. "D-David, Y...y...you just told Timmy not t...to make an ass of himself. Y...you should t...t...take your own advice..." Kevin said training his eyes on David. David melted before the wisdom of his unassuming elder brother. He was silent. No one around the table saw George's smile. As proud as George was of his Marine Sergeant second son, and as proud as he was of his youngest son's scholastic and athletic achievements, he was at least as proud of his eldest son who was on his way to success in his own right despite daunting shyness and an almost crippling speech impediment. "Kevin, dear sweet Kevin. You could always shut David up," Ginny roared with laughter. "Say, Joe, how about a Scotch if ya have some... I think an after-dinner cigar might be good, too." "We can retire to the bar, Ginny," Joe said. "I have a bartender for the evening... One of the guys from the Club. But first, I'd like to say something to my son." Joe turned to Sean, raising his champagne flute. "Sean, son, eighteen years ago today you blessed your mother and I with your appearance. We're both sorry your mother can't be here tonight, but she's in Heaven and she knows the fine man you've grown to be. I'm proud of you each and every day. There's few men that could have gone through the year you just did and come out on the other end still standing. So, here's to you, son. Happy Birthday!" Sean blinked back tears and raised his glass back to his father. "Here's to you, too, dad." "Well, this calls for a round of Happy Birthday to You! But I'm gonna sing something different..." Ginny said, breaking into Everything's Coming up Roses. It struck others around the table that her voice was an exact duplicate of Ethel Merman's. https://youtu.be/s62MrU8mHx4 Ginny got a raucous round of applause, with David Dickson whistling to boot. "Happy Birthday, Sean," Ginny said. Now, let's go have a drink! "Those bartenders aren't supposed to moonlight ya know, Joe..." Ginny whispered out of the corner of her mouth to Joe as he walked her to the bar. "He's an excellent bartender," Joe said. "That's why I engaged his services, and it was my idea, not his. I think we can overlook it. After all the man is working for the money and he might need it for something that's none of our business to know what it is..." "You're right, Joe. And it's just as well. I can see the boys look like they'd rather be on the patio... They might be nervous about taking a toke, or two at the bar... Ah, well, I can always remember the Sixties now can't I..." Joe simply laughed. The next morning at eleven o'clock, Ginny's Mercedes glided imperiously into the parking lot at an out-of- the-way Supper Club on Lake Koshkonong, about ten miles northeast of town. She was to meet Andy, Sean and Rosemary Kennedy for an early lunch, and selected that particular restaurant for the meeting because she didn't care to have every Janesville busybody's eyes and ears out at the Country Club making note of it. The boys didn't care, but Rosemary agreed with Ginny that it might be better to choose somewhere they could have at least some expectation of being incognito. She saw by the cars in the parking lot that she was the last of the party to arrive, spying Andy's Cruze and Rosemary's Jaguar. That was fine, as Ginny wasn't one to patiently wait on others. Entering the building, she informed the hostess she was to meet her party, and was told they were outdoors on the patio. Finding the table, Ginny smiled. "Well, good morning boys! The weather's not the only thing that's hot today! My, my, my... And how nice to see you, Rose." The waiter came, took their drink orders and disappeared. "Iced tea, Rose?" Ginny asked, eyebrow raised. "I never drank, Ginny. I just let people think I did. It came in handy at times... Sometimes a girl needs what comes in handy..." "I can understand that." Ginny nodded. "Waiter, I'll stick with my Mojito... Anyway, should we get down to business? I don't think any of us planned to make a day out if it... Who wants to go first?" "I will," Sean said. "Rose, we're still not a hundred percent, but we decided to give you the benefit of the doubt. We want the twins to grow up as normal as possible, and we want them to have every advantage we can give them. You were right when you said every little boy needs a Grandmother, and neither one of us can give them one." "Andy?" Ginny asked. "You on board here?" "Yeah, I mean we talked about it and we didn't want to show up today with nothing thought out. So, yeah, we're willing to give it a try..." "Well, that makes this a short meeting, then!" Ginny said. "Everyone know what they're going to order? The steak tartare is excellent..." "I think I'll have the steak tartare as well," Rosemary said. "And, Andy, we need to make a time for you to come over and get started on those drawings. I have the old photos of the house from around 1910 all set out so you can go over them." "Doing a little redecorating are we, Rose?" Ginny asked. "Not exactly. I'm having the house restored to its original appearance inside and out. I always hated what Bill did to it. I mean, if you want a newer house, then buy one. It's a Victorian, and that's what it's supposed to look like." "I couldn't agree more, and if no one's told you yet, Andy redid the Alamo and it's stunning. Not overdone, and proper décor not misunderstood. It's just plain stunning. Period-and-style-perfect. You couldn't be in better hands..." "That's what I've heard. I'm anxious to get started, and, Andy, the family company can do the work. My brother assured me they have staff that specialize in restorations. I'm glad you thought of that. I never would have..." "Rose, after you meet with Andy, why don't you come back to the Alamo with him. We'll introduce you to your grandsons," Sean said, somewhat relieved that the luncheon seemed to be going well despite a minor undertow of cattiness between Ginny and Rosemary. Sean chalked that up to women being women. "I'll come, too," Ginny said. "I've hardly seen them." "That'd be nice," Sean replied. "Just don't get in Mrs. Cheadle's way or she'll rip you a new one..." "I chose her myself, Sean," Ginny winked. "I met her when I was in London. I knew she'd be perfect for a couple of boys." "You have a Nanny for them?" Rosemary asked, somewhat surprised, especially since it seemed Ginny was the one who hired her. "Yeah, Great-grandma insisted..." Sean smirked. "Rose?" Ginny said, having had enough of small talk. "Yes?" "Sean and Andy are looking at a special project in the next little while when it can be arranged. Could you ask your brother to give me a call? I've got a thing, or two I'd like to run by him..." "Absolutely. I'm sure he'd be delighted. After all, I'm reasonably sure you had something to do with them getting the contract for rebuilding the High Schools..." "I did. And it's alright to remind him of that, too..." ONE MONTH LATER "Gentlemen," Coach Slater called his 2015 football tryouts to attention. "Welcome to the first practice of the 2105 season. We have a new Coach this year. Sean Wyman at Quarterback Coach. Now, I know that for the Seniors he's your classmate, and for Juniors and Sophomores he's ahead of you, but still a fellow student. For the duration of the season, whether it's on the field, or off, players will address him as `Coach,' or `Coach Wyman,' the same way as you would address me or any of the other Coaches. We all know that Coach Wyman will bring the same value to the team this year as a Coach that he did last year as a player. We're lucky to have him. Is this clear, gentlemen?" The team answered with a resounding "YES!" awaiting Sean's first words to the entire group as a Coach. Sean strode to the front dressed out in grey Spaulding Coach's shorts, his Royal Blue Number-2 jersey from last season and his old-school Adidas Rom trainers, white with three Royal Blue stripes. "Guys," he began, "as Coach Slater would say, `Gentlemen...' Most of you already know, but for everyone who doesn't, I won't be playing this year on Doctor's orders. That's because of the concussions I sustained at the end of last season. You know, Gentlemen, I'm gonna miss every minute of being out on the field with you. Goddamnit, I'll miss it... But I'll be assisting at Quarterback Coach. With your help, we'll be developing some new plays more appropriate to the strengths of this year's team versus last year's team. I'm here for just one reason... I'm here to help the team win. Believe in me, guys, as much as a Coach as you did as a player. Thank you." The entire group of 2015 tryouts rewarded their 2014 Championship Quarterback with an ovation that lasted at least a full minute until Coach Slater quieted them down. One week prior, Coach Slater had been surprised yet again by the addition of a new student, and a prospective addition to the football team. Some months after Bill Kennedy's sale of the road construction business, it was decided to look for a new CEO to run it. His brother contemplated offering the position to Bill as no matter what else he might have been he was good at his job, but his suicide made the offer impossible. The search narrowed until a candidate for the job was found, offered the position, and accepted it. The man's name was Brent Masterson, the long-time Administrator of the Division of Business Management at the Wisconsin Department of Transportation and the father of Kevin Masterson, Sean's friend who last season was the Quarterback of the Madison West Regents that the Cougars beat in the last game of the season for the Big Eight Conference championship. The Mastersons completed the sale of their home in Madison and the purchase of a home in Janesville. Just by coincidence their new neighbors through the back yard were George and Peggy Dickson, and, just by coincidence Ginny came out of semi-retirement once again to broker the sale. There was a hastily-arranged meeting in Coach Slater's office much the same as a meeting that happened more, or less one year prior, except this time Sean participated as a Coach, not as a hopeful player. Arriving early for the meeting, Coach Slater greeted Sean. "Mister Wyman, I see I'll be having the same dilemma two years running... Maybe I'm getting too old for this shit..." "How do you think we should handle this, Coach?" "WE, Mister Wyman? I've got news for you... You're going to be the Quarterback Coach. It's how are YOU going to handle this..." "You want ME to handle this?" Sean asked, quite surprised. "Absolutely. Once is enough for me. Besides, I won't be here forever and it will be useful for others to gain some experience in personnel matters should, well, the time come..." Sean initially balked, but then acquiesced. "I'll handle it the same way you did last year, Coach." "As I said, it's entirely up to you. Oh, and from this point forward I shall address you as `Coach Wyman.'" Presently, Kevin Masterson and Kris Krieger arrived. "Mister Krieger, Mister Masterson. Have a seat, gentlemen," Coach Slater indicated. "I asked Coach Wyman to be here today as I'm sure you know he'll be our Quarterback Coach this year. I have delegated to him authority over this matter. Coach Wyman?" "Thanks, Coach. Look, we had the same dilemma on our hands last year between me and Dix. Coach Slater told us both that we'd each get a fair shot at starting Quarterback and may the better man win. Well, Dix won. And a better man there isn't than Tim Dickson. I was his backup. It wasn't a matter of pride for me, it was a matter of being a team player. That's just how it went. So, I'm gonna tell you two the same thing that Coach Slater told me and Dix. You will each have an equal shot at being the starter. The decision of who will start will be made in the last week of pre-season practice, or so, depending on how things go. So, I'd like your feedback at this point. Mister Krieger?" Coach slater was impressed. He knew it would be hard for Sean to take on the role of a Coach in the proper way while he was still a student, at least in the beginning, but he felt Sean had said all the right things so far. "Wymo, well..." "Mister Krieger, I'm `Coach' now..." Sean said, although with nod and a smile which again impressed Coach Slater. Sean might not have wished on his own to be so formal, but he was smart enough to recognize that Coach Slater was his superior, that Coach Slater ran a tight ship, that he'd been a successful Coach for many years, and he knew Coach Slater would expect the same professionalism from him in his role as Coach. He would live up to those expectations. In Sean's mind, if he couldn't then he had no business being there. "Yeah, sorry, Coach... Anyway, I said last year that if something like this happened I'd be fine with it. I haven't changed my mind... But I want you to know I'm gonna give it my best to win the job." "Very well. Mister Masterson?" Sean replied changing his gaze to Kevin. "I'm fine with it too, Coach. I didn't even know until like a couple weeks ago we were making the move to Janesville. I'll play wherever you want to put me. It'll be fine, I'm not a Drama Queen... And I'll do my best to win the job, too." "Very good," Sean continued. "Now, both of you are gonna get a copy of the playbook from last year before you go. I'd like you to go through it thoroughly until you know it. If you'd work together on that, so much the better for the team. We'll have short meetings fairly often to discuss what plays we'd like to concentrate on, what we might wish to delete, and if there is anything we should add. It will be useful to the team if we have the same cohesiveness this year that Dix and I had last year. Dix and me working together really let us do some pretty special things other teams didn't have the horsepower to do, and I can't over-emphasize that. Don't be afraid to think outside the box, Gentlemen. Any questions?" Both Krieger and Masterson indicated they had no questions, and were dismissed by Coach Slater. Once they were out the door, Coach Slater eyeballed Sean. "Mister Wyman. Sorry...COACH Wyman. I just want to let you know that for your first meeting with players you conducted as a Coach, you were one- hundred percent. I was favorably impressed. Some guys never get the knack. Even after years on the job. When you reminded Mister Krieger to address you as `Coach' that was entirely proper, but you did it with understanding. I believe you have what it takes." "I understand I have to be their Coach. That's my job... But all I did is was treat them with respect, and only corrected Kriegs when..." "Don't you mean Mister Krieger?" "Yeah, Mister Krieger..." Sean laughed. "I get it... I corrected Mister Krieger when he addressed me as `Wymo' because that's not how we address you, or the other Coaches..." "Yes," Coach Slater responded. "And as I said, you were one-hundred percent. You did it the right way. And you even managed to give them a task to work on together to help develop cohesiveness. That was brilliant. So, if there's nothing else, Coach?" "Just one thing... What I asked them to do wasn't really that brilliant. Last year we didn't get a copy of the playbook to go over. Dix had one from when he was backup Quarterback when he was a Junior. We went over it on our own...." "You and Mister Dickson were a truly rare combination, Coach Wyman. Please understand exactly HOW truly rare. If there's nothing else, then?" I think that'll be all for today, Coach..." "Very well, I'll see you on the first day of practice then." "See ya then, Coach." Sean said with his usual smirk, taking his leave. He would be content if the Krieger- Masterson decision would be the biggest problem he would face this year. END CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN *A.W. Dickson was Angus W. Dickson (1898-1982), George's grandfather and Tim's Great-grandfather. Born in Aberdeen, Scotland. The founder of the family Law Office and other holdings. Served in the Royal Navy during World War I where he saw action in the Battle of Jutland (1916) aboard the Battleship HMS Conqueror. Came to the United States in 1919. Graduated from the University of Wisconsin Law School in 1923. Angus Dickson made his fortune as an Attorney, a Real Estate Investor and a financier - possibly, but we'll never know – including of Bootleggers during Prohibition when, as family lore had it, there were business dealings with Joseph P. Kennedy, father of U.S. President John F. Kennedy. He is of reference earlier in the story. ** A Lis Pendens: a Lis Pendens is a written notice that a lawsuit has been filed concerning real estate, involving either the title to the property or a claimed ownership interest in it. It is recorded at the Courthouse of the County in which the real estate concerned is located. It places a cloud upon the title of the real estate against which it is filed meaning the Owner of the real estate against which it is filed is unable to convey a clear title. *** Intestate: without a Will. **** Number Ten: common British parlance for 10 Downing Street, the official residence and working offices of the British Prime Minister. Analogous to the American White House.