It Is What It Is

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 FIFTY-EIGHT

True to form, once Sean and Andy got back to the Alamo the two little tykes ran to Andy, wrapping themselves around his legs. Mrs. Cheadle admonished them no running in the house, which produced two little long faces.

Sean scooped them both up. "What's the matter, little men?" Sean asked, looking first at one, then the other. "Da-da," they both gurgled. "So, they run now?" Sean asked.

"I'm afraid they both started doing that just today, Sir," Mrs. Cheadle answered. "And two new teeth each one, too. They walked a bit early, and we're into potty training now. It seems like with these two even though they started some things early, their development is accelerating. I'm afraid we'll be teaching them the ABCs by the time they're two... I've seen this before with some toddlers, so it's just something we need to keep our eyes on."

Sean beamed, looking at his two sons. They were both towheads, as Sean had been at that age, but instead of Sean's blue eyes it was becoming clear that the twins would have green, or maybe hazel eyes. It was also becoming clear that they would be tall men once they grew up. By height, they were even a bit beyond the lower limit for the 100th percentile of tots their age. They both had large hands and feet, too, but otherwise were slim and well-proportioned despite their insatiable appetites. Oh, well, Sean thought, he was taller than average himself and the twins Grandfather, the abominable Bill Kennedy, had been even taller than Sean. God, he hoped they didn't end up looking like Bill Kennedy. But as everyone always remarked the twins faces bore an almost uncanny resemblance to Sean's late mother, Val. Even more so than Sean, who always thought to himself that he showed more as a Branson than a Wyman when he looked back through old family photographs.

Sean thought he would be glad once school was over for the year and he graduated. He could spend more time raising his sons. At the same time, he made a mental note to talk with his dad about how long Mrs. Cheadle would be there. Despite her stiff upper lip, her starchy English rigor, and preoccupation with what she called "good form," Sean, and Andy and John, too, if the truth be told, had taken a real liking to this plain-spoken, efficient, no-nonsense woman.

In bed that night, Sean turned to Andy. "Hey, Brown Eyes, I gotta ask ya something..."

"What..." Andy said.

"Well, how much longer you think Mrs. Cheadle's gonna be around here?"

"I dunno, why?"

"I'll miss her if she goes...."

"Me, too..."

"How do you think we can keep her?"

"Have more kids..."

"I was thinking the same thing."

"Really?"

"Yeah..."

"Well, I mean, you have the twins. I love `em to death, but I don't have any kids of my own. I really don't want to wait..."

"Yeah, and the two that I have were involuntary. Not that I'd trade em for anything, I love em so much, but I'd like to have one when I decide to, ya know?"

"Well, whadya wanna do?"

"Have more kids. This one should be your turn."

"OK, but should I be the dad, or should we adopt?"

"I dunno, I never thought about that... Whada you think?"

"Don't get mad at me, but I was thinking of adopting... I mean, Sean-o, I know I can have a kid of my own if I want, get a surrogate and all, but there are so many kids out there... Just like J.R., all they want is a chance..."

"You think we should adopt a teenager?"

"No, I didn't mean that, but there are kids who are already here who have nowhere else to go, ya know? That would make me feel better..."

"I'd be down for that. Would it make you mad if I had another kid that it was mine?"

"No. It wouldn't. I understand that no matter how much you love the twins, they'll always be the product of a rape. I know you'd never blame them for that but having a child of your own voluntarily might go some way to erase that feeling in the back of your mind."

"When do you wanna adopt?"

"Well, let's start looking now. I mean, I dunno how you even go about it... And it'll take some time, months if not longer... I don't want kids that'll be really far apart in age, ya know?"

"So, what if we adopt a kid that's maybe newborn to the age of the twins now, and then next year I have one of my own?"

"I think that's fine. I'm gonna call George tomorrow and ask him how we do this. It feels weird, though..."

"Whadya mean?"

"Well, if I hafta pick a kid it kinda feels like I'm picking a pet, or something... I'd wanna help all of them..."

"I know... I guess we're just lucky enough that we can do something for at least one of them."

"I have an idea about that, too, but it'll hafta wait."

"I think I know whatcha mean... So, if you adopt, have you thought of a name yet?"

"No. I think what we do is we put the names of all our friends in a bag and pull out two names. The first name will be the given name, and the second one the middle name. I mean, we already named the twins after our dads and you and me, so..."

"Wanna do it now? I mean it would be kinda mean to adopt a kid and then not know whatcher gonna name it..."

"OK."

"Here, I'll get a paper lunch bag from downstairs, you go ahead and write the names down."

Andy duly wrote down the names of all their friends on slips of paper, and after Sean returned dumped them all into the brown paper bag.

"So, who draws first?" Sean asked.

"I guess if I'm adopting then I should. I pick the first name, you pick the middle name."

"That's fine," Sean said as he shook the bag. "OK, pick!"

Andy reached his hand into the bag, withdrawing a piece of paper. He carefully unfolded it and placed it on the bed. "Timothy."

"So, we're naming the kid after Dix. That's fine. OK, I'll go for the middle name." Sean reached his hand in as Andy had done and came out with a piece of paper. "James," Sean read. "After Noles..."

"Timothy James," Andy said. "T.J."

"What about the last name?" Sean asked.

"I think we keep it the unhyphenated Churchill Wyman just like the Twins. After all, they'll grow up as brothers."

"OK. You think we should talk to dad about it first?"

"No. We should talk to dad about it, but I wanna talk to Ginny about it first."

"I guess that makes sense... I mean, we have some wealth, but Ginny's providing us an income so we don't have to dip into that. I mean, until the time she gives over to us altogether..."

"Don't fool yourself, she ain't gonna give over totally until she croaks," Andy said. "But we have enough income with what she guaranteed us for the twins even if we have to pay for Mrs. Cheadle on our own..." Andy said.

"I'm glad you're so good with these things," Sean said. "You make it look easy."

"Well, the hard part is going to be the adopting. Don't see any reason to make anything else more complicated than it has to be... So, if you have another kid and you don't adopt it could be a boy, or a girl. What about names for that one?"

"Let me reach in the bag for a boy's name..." Sean reached in, withdrew a piece of paper and opened it. "Scott," Sean said. He went in for the middle name, repeating the process. "Bradley. Scott Bradley. That's OK... But it doesn't roll off the tongue that well. I think I'd change Bradley to Bradford."

"Yeah, that's nice," Andy said, "but what if it's a girl?"

"If it's a girl then that's easy Sean said. Her name will be Valerie Katherine, after both of our mothers."

A tear came to Andy's eye. "I miss my mom, you know... When she died, I felt like an orphan..."

"I'm sorry, Brown Eyes. I know whatcha mean..." Sean reached out, touching Andy's hand. "Not to change the subject, but do you think that adopting might take a while?"

"Yeah, I can see that it might..."

"Well, then, let's get started on it right away!"

"Really?"

"Yeah, really..." Sean said looking at Andy with love in his eyes.

"I love you..."

"Love you, too, Brown Eyes.

With that, Sean and Andy curled up and went to sleep.

The next morning at breakfast, all three boys made a plan to figure out their futures for the next year, or two. Sean pointed out, and the other two agreed that they needed a tight plan. He also pointed out that Kathleen, Tim and Brett had to be involved as well. Because of that, Sean's idea was that he would call Tim that day, and on the weekend Tim and Brett would come to Janesville where they would convene a meeting in the Founders Room at the Janesville Country Club. He would obtain Ginny's permission to use the room, and to invite her to be present.

Sean also mentioned that over the Summer in addition to obtaining his real estate license he had to take the required online courses so that he could retain his position as the quarterback coach of the Craig football team. Andy reminded Sean that in addition to that it would be likely that Sean will have completed the purchase of the Monterey Hotel, and there would also be construction starting, or at minimum demolition of the interior of the building. John added that his book of business for the coming Summer had almost doubled from the previous year and that there would be additional equipment to purchase and people to hire.

With that, the boys departed for school. Once there, Andy went to the office to see if there were any students having requested appointments at his Main Street office where he still ran the anti-bullying service. It proved a wise thing to have the central place for those be the Craig High School office. That way, students from Parker High School as well as the three middle schools could get in touch faster, and Andy could schedule appointments for the downtown office usually before his first class of the day. Andy knew, however, that since he was now on the School Board it could be seen as a conflict of interest for him to be running an organization whose very existence stemmed from conflict. He would have to find someone else to run it for him. But who?

In the meantime, Sean made his way to the back of the school looking for Tory Trager. In luck, Sean found Tory in his usual spot.

"So, how's everything going?" Sean asked.

"Oh, I see it's Mister Fucking City Councilor now is it..."

"I really don't know why J.R. hangs around with you. Are you this much if a bitch when he's fucking you?"

"Touché. I'll never be able to win with you, will I..."

"I didn't know we were involved in a contest. Anyway, I didn't come by for a daily dose of cuntiness. I came by to see what our practice schedule is gonna be..."

"Yes. `Practice.' How charming. Anyway, I'll be emailing everyone. I assume you know how to use email... We do have an issue, though..."

"Oh, I see. First the juvenile insult, next you're gonna ask me for a favor. I see how this works... What is it, and just get to the fucking point..."

"Fine. Advance tickets went on sale and we're oversold. It's never happened before."

"So, just run more shows."

"It doesn't work that way."

"So, what do you expect me to do about it? You're the one in charge here. You're the guy with all the answers. I'm just a dumb jock. What the hell would I know?"

"Ok, then, sorry I thought you might be able to help..."

Sean knew this tactic all too well. Tory always started out belligerently, like a prick, and then settled down before he'd get to the point.

"Why don't you just do what a normal person would do," Sean said, "tell me the numbers and tell me how I might be able to help. Ya know, ya could have done that already and we wouldn't be sitting here having a dick measuring contest..."

"We need more seats. There's only one place I know of that could accommodate us..."

"What?"

"Well, it's a private venue now, but the City kicks in on their financing, so... I figured maybe Mister City Fucking Councilor could twist their arm."

"Look, Tory, perhaps there might be a time and a place where I'd need to expend some capital to do that. That time is not now. I'm new on the Council. I'm new to their ways, I haven't sized the rest of `em up yet, and the last thing someone in my position does if they're smart is to overstep right off the bat. I do have an idea, though..."

"I'll alert the media..."

"Look, Tory, do you want me to help you, or do you just wanna sit there and be an asshole because I've got plenty of other commitments. You can either cut the shit, or I'm outta here. What's it gonna be?"

"Fine. I aaaaaaap... I'm sor... My baaaa..."

"OK, you apologize, you're sorry and it's your bad. That's a start. Look, my idea is that we combine three of the shows and do them in one sitting at Monterey Stadium. We can have a stage built, and it seats 5,000. There are also restrooms, and facilities for refreshments. There is some lighting there as well. The biggest thing would be the stage, and I think I can take care of that. It would have to be paid for, of course..."

"We don't have the money for that!"

"No, we don't. However, I could see if my dad might be able to find a way clear to have the GM plant help out on that. He's got a discretionary budget for community involvement, and we wouldn't need that much money..."

"That might work."

"Yeah, and I can see if he could spare a few of the skilled labor guys to build it. I mean, we might have to pitch in, but at least we'd have skilled carpenters, electricians and stuff... So, am I the dumb jock now, or you a prick..."

"Yeah, I know... You always fucking win. That's why I hate you."

"Don't hate me. I've got plans for you. And they're plans that will give you the life you used to know, or at least something close to it. You play ball with me, and I'll play ball with you. You don't wanna play ball, and it's no hair off my ass. You can still be J.R.'s fuck buddy, but just don't expect anything else from me other than common courtesy. Do we have an understanding?"

"Depends on what it is that I'm supposed to understand."

"You won't have that long to wait. And I'd like to see your brother at the same time."

"He's away at school."

"Then you call him up and find out when's the soonest weekend he can be here. We'll pay the travel costs... I don't wanna drag this out. Look, here's the deal: you think I'm a dick, and I think you're a bratty little twat. I get that. But I promise you that for you and your brother it will be worth your while to meet with us."

"Us?"

"Yeah, us. Don't worry, it'll be fine."

"Like I'm gonna believe you!"

"You can do whatcha you want, but here's the deal: you might just get offered a future, or you can forget about what I just said and take the chance on living in the second-floor apartment of a shit box house a block from the City Dump. It's your choice.

"That was really below the belt, Wyman."

"Yeah, it was, wunnit... See, trying to be nice and normal doesn't work on you. Maybe I should try having a conversation with you while J.R. has his cock in your ass. Maybe it would improve your disposition."

"Hey, I fuck him too!"

"I'm sure you do, but he's not a nasty little bitch. Anyway, you figure out whatcha wanna do and let me know. Twenty-four hours. I won't do anything about you and J.R. That's your business. And Kathleen's. I'll make the Monterrey stage happen. Leave that to me. Twenty-four hours. Tick-tock."

Sean turned, rolled his eyes and left, not waiting for Tory's response. He knew Tory would call him.

After school that day, Sean went down to City Hall while Andy and John went home to the Alamo. Walking in to the Park Department, Sean approached the counter.

"Can I help you?" the girl behind the counter asked.

"Yes, I'm Sean Wyman. I was just elected to the City Council and I just have a question about how one of the student organizations at Craig High School would go about obtaining the use of Monterey Stadium for a public function."

"Well, that certainly is a good question! I'm not sure I've ever been asked that before... We have applications for use of public park facilities, but none for the use of the stadium."

"I see. Now, I know I'm new around here, but I thought that the stadium was run by the Park Department."

"That's right, Councilor!" the girl replied with a smile. At least she's pleasant, Sean thought.

"Well, why don't you let me have an application, and I'll get it to them and they can fill it out."

"I guess that would be the proper procedure. I mean, just glancing at the regulations, they don't make any mention of the stadium having a different status when it comes to those things."

"Very good. Now wouldn't you know it, I have a second question..." Sean said.

"OK."

"The use of the stadium would involve setting up a temporary stage on the playing field. The work will be professionally done, the student organization will pull permits if required, and it will be dismantled and taken away when the event is over. Also, the student organization is willing to pay a deposit if required in the event that there is some damage to the playing field that will require repair, as well as to indemnify the City in the event that anyone is injured setting up or dismantling the temporary stage."

"Oh dear," the Clerk replied.

"I'm sorry?" Sean said.

"I'm afraid that would be above my pay grade. Tell you what, have them fill out the application, then return it with any other paperwork you think is necessary, such as an insurance policy binder, and I'll make sure the Head of the Department sees it right away."

"Sounds good to me!" Sean smirked. "I'll have this back within the next day, or two."

"OK, Councilor! Have a nice day now!"

Sean nodded and left.

That night at home Sean got the call back from Tory that he knew he'd get.

"Look, Sean," Tory said, "sometimes I dunno if you're a good guy, or not, but I decided to bite my tongue and take a chance. I talked to my brother and he told me to just do it. He can be here this weekend, and he doesn't need someone to pay for him to get here. I guess he's got a way, so that's covered. I swear, your cockiness really pisses me the fuck off, though..."

"Nobody said you had to marry me, sweet cheeks. All I'm asking you to do is to shut up for once and listen. And that goes for your brother and his obsession with Dix, too, but that's none of my business..."

"No, it's really not, Mister City Fucking Councilor!"

"You know what, Trager? Just exactly what the FUCK is it gonna take for you to be decent to me? You know, I'm trying to help you here because you're a friend of my brothers and let's be honest here, you could use a break. It's not like I hafta do this ya know, or I hafta give a fuck... So, like, what's it gonna be dude?"

"Click," Sean heard on the other end of the line. "Oh, well," Sean thought, shrugging his shoulders. "I tried..."

About twenty minutes later, Sean's phone rang again. He didn't recognize the number, but thought it might be a constituent, or some such, and while he wasn't one to answer calls from numbers he didn't recognize, he decided to take the call.

"Hello?"

"Sean, I'm sorry to bother you. This is Eric Trager..."

"Um... What's up?"

"Well, uh... OK, look, I just got a call from my brother. He said he just got off the phone with you. He told me about your conversation. Um... I'm sorry, I mean I know he's my brother and everything, but he can be a dick sometimes. I ripped him a new one..."

"OK, how come?"

"Sean, see, I kinda know where you were coming from but he doesn't. See, sometimes he doesn't listen to people, and sometimes he goes off half-cocked when he doesn't know everything he needs to know. He's a lot better than he used to be, but..."

"I think I get it," Sean laughed. "I mean, I'm only trying to help. You know he's friends with my brother, J.R., right?"

"Yeah. Friends with benefits from what I understand..."

"Not my business, Eric," Sean laughed again. "So, no comment on that. Anyway, I don't mean to be rude, but what's the real purpose for your call?"

"Sorry, Sean. Well, ya see, I know I wasn't very nice to you when we first met. Wasn't your fault. I had issues from the past with Dix. That's been fixed. Now, Tory didn't really know what you meant when you said that you could be helpful, but like I said I have some idea. If you wanna know how I'd have an idea, we can talk later, just you and me. The bottom line is I told Tory to find you at school tomorrow if it's the last thing he does and to apologize. Then I told him that we were gonna meet up with you guys this weekend and he was gonna keep his big fuckin' mouth shut and listen."

"Works for me," Sean said. "So, if it's OK for me to ask, just what the hell is Tory's problem, anyway?"

"It's a long story, Sean. We can talk about that later, too. He's not a bad kid, though. He just doesn't trust people a lot. He does like you, though."

"Jeez, I guess I'm glad he doesn't hate me..."

"You got that right. He really does like you. And he's grateful that you and Andy saved him from those two fuckwads that were gonna beat him up."

"You think he can be a team player? For that matter, can you be a team player? I mean, sorry to put it that way, but I might as well ask that question now..."

"That's OK, I get it. I'll handle my brother. And J.R. can handle him, too. He'll be OK. Can I be a team player? Well, I just called ya now, didn't I?"

"Yeah, you did. Well, OK then, I guess we'll leave the rest of it for this weekend. Now that I got your number, I'll text you when and where, OK?"

"Sounds good. I gotta gt back to my books, anyway..."

"Hey! You never said where you were in school at..."

"Believe it, or not, I'm at UW-Madison. I got some grants, and some loans and shit. Mom doesn't have any extra money to pay out for that, and God knows, my dad isn't gonna help, not even a cent. Bastard..."

"Play your cards right, and we can figure out something out about that, too, maybe... Maybe we can be friends after all. I make a good friend, Eric. I haven't had it all that easy either, ya know..."

"Well, my brother thinks you just skate into everything you want, so maybe you can have a little talk with him. I'll sit in just to keep him in check. By the way and I hope you're not mad, but Dix has told me a lot about you. Stuff I wish I knew last year. Anyway, I hope you and I can be all good. I guess it's up to you..."

"Thanks, Eric. I'll see you guys this weekend, OK?"

"That's fine, Sean. Thanks for taking my call..."

"No prob. Later!"

"Bye."

Although satisfied enough with the conversation, Sean wondered just what, and how much Eric Trager knew, and what exactly Tim and Eric had talked about. He decided to place a call to Tim. After he talked to Andy and John.

Finding Andy and John in the library, Sean said, "Guys, we gotta talk. It'll only take a minute, but I just got a call from Eric Trager of all people..."

"Huh?" Andy asked.

"Yeah, well, it turns out that he read Tory the riot act about getting his shit together. Anyway, they're both gonna be here this weekend to meet up with the rest of us."

"Dix and Brett gonna be here?" John asked.

"Yup. I hafta suppose he's coming down with Dix and Brett because I just found out he's in school at Madison, too."

"Where we gonna meet up at?" Andy asked.

"Dunno. Don't really wanna go to the Club because I don't want anyone really noticing. I was kinda thinking Riverside Park. We can get some subs and chips and soda and shit, and just sit at a picnic table. No one to overhear that way..." Sean answered.

"I dunno..." Andy said. "I say we go out to Sweet Allyn Park down by Shopiere. Nobody ever goes there too much and we can take a picnic table and move it down by the creek. Nobody'll come around, or at least nobody that would recognize any of us..."

"Works for me," Sean said. "OK, I'm gonna go play with the boys. Brown Eyes, you get the after dinner shift..."

"OK, as long as Mrs. Cheadle has them fed and shit."

"You can set your clock by that lady," Sean said.

"I know," Andy rolled his eyes.

"So, what's this all about, this meeting?" John asked Andy.

"OK, Squirt, here's the deal. We gotta recruit a couple more guys. We got everything planned out on how things are gonna run once Ginny is gone. And we gotta assume that around that same time George is gonna retire, too. Now, Sean's pretty much gonan be in charge, and I will help him from behind the scenes. Dix will take over from his dad when he retires, Brett's gonna join the Law Firm, Dix's brother Kevin's gonna be our finance guy, Brad's gonna be his assistant, and you & Kathleen are gonna be the local business end."

"Sounds like we got it covered..."

"Yeah. I mean, me and Sean, we've been learning some stuff from Ginny. The way we see it, she did a great job over the years of maintain assets, and cash flow, but what increase there's been has basically been due to natural market increase over a long period of years."

"So?" John said.

"Well, we're going to be aiming once we get into it to increase assets. And to do that, we're gonna need to both diversify and to have more divisions, or rather to diversify the existing divisions. Ginny did everything she could have done considering it all suddenly fell in her lap and she didn't know the first thing about it. And I might as well tell ya now, she hadda fight off a few people one of whom was the Trager's grandfather, so that's why his dad's a prick, or part of it anyway. And their grandfather is still alive... We're gonna talk everything over when we all meet."

"I think I get it. I'm not fucking stupid, ya know..." John said, chin jutting out.

"I know you're not. We just gotta keep everything under wraps for a while. It's probably gonna be a few years yet until we all jump in. And see, here's the deal, too: we figure the Tragers will be a good add because they're smart, and their dad was a dick to both of them. Payback's a bitch..."

"Makes sense... So, how many years you figure?"

"I dunno. I mean, Ginny's seventy-one years old, so maybe five years? I wouldn't think ten anyway..."

"OK, so were' all gonna be in our early twenties then."

"That's as much as I'd guess. But, yeah, we gotta be ready..."

"What do we hold over the Tragers' heads if they fuck up..." John asked.

"I like the way you think, little bro..." Andy said. "I mean, yeah, there has to be a quid pro quo."

"A what?"

"Quid pro quo. It means, well, in this instance it means you wash my hand and I wash yours. But with the added provision that if we're crossed there will be a material adverse consequence. The material adverse consequence is that they both hold a massive grudge against their dad for taking their lifestyle away from them, and their futures. We give them both of those things back on pain of taking them away if we do not get loyalty. Neither one of them is stupid. They'll know the score."

"You guys are fucking ruthless!" John said.

"No, we're not. Not at all. Like I said, it's a quid pro quo... It's fair. And we have a little sweetener for them, too."

"What's that?"

"We know through Ginny that when their dad dumped their mom that he hid assets so he wouldn't have to split marital property or pay child support. According to Ginny everyone around town knew it was a crock, but it got through the Court. Eric and Tory don't know this, but we hired Ditmar to reconstruct Tom Trager's financial records at the time of the divorce. Mrs. Trager could reopen the case and end up with a lot of money. He could go to jail for fraud. Or..."

"Or what?"

"I'll let Sean tell you the rest of the story. It was his idea anyway..."

"Can I ask you something?"

"What's that, Bambino?"

"You think Sean's getting maybe a little scary? I mean, he's always been the best big brother to me, but I mean he wants to find out about that Hernandez guy, then there's the guy who was a dick to him at the debate and now this... It's like he's getting to be like Al Capone, or something... I mean, what if he decides he doesn't like me anymore?"

"Oh, Squirt, Sean loves you. He'll always love you, and he'll always be your big brother, but he's had to toughen up. This whole thing is gonna fall on him, you know. Ginny won't be around forever, and he doesn't want to fuck up. He knows there are gonna be people looking to knock him off just like there were with Ginny. He just wants to be ready, that's all... I mean, Ginny almost died on us once, you know."

"Yeah, well, when he gets on this stuff, Sean just seems like a different person to me..."

"Bambino, that's my job. To keep Sean being Sean. You gotta cut him some slack, though. I mean, we're both eighteen years old now, and you're seventeen. Dad's not gonna be giving us a home and room and board forever. We gotta be ready when that time comes. Sean's looking out for all of us. No one asked him to do that, but in his mind, it fell to him just like a lot of other things have. And he made a success of every one of them. He means to be ready. And to not fuck up."

"OK, I get it," John said. "Maybe I should bring it up to him myself."

"If you think you need to then do it! Like I said, he'll always be your big brother. What does Kathleen think about all this?"

"She's OK. I mean, she grew up around all this shit, or at least on some level she did. She knows her dad was an asshole. She knows her sister was an asshole. And she knows her mom did the best she could. Kath's pretty tough, ya know... We, um, we both wanna go to college before we start in. I hope Sean lets us..."

"Stop right there!"

"What?"

"I think Sean knows that. He's the only one here who's not going to college. And the reason is he doesn't think he can, or at least not now. He's got to ease into taking over from Ginny while preparing for it at the same time, he's got two kids, and all the rest of it. He's told me before that he hopes you do go to college. He knows you need it for yourself, if for nothing else. Do you know what you want to study?"

"Yeah, I wanna go to the Ag School at Madison so I can be an expert in landscaping, and trees and plants and shit. Kath told me she wants to be a doctor, like Brett. Just not a lawyer, too, though..."

"I think that's fine. And I think I have an idea for that, or at least for you, but that's for the future."

"That's fine. I got too much on my mind as it is. I gotta finish up really good in school this year, and next year if I wanna get into Madison ya know..."

"You have an advantage, Squirt, with getting into Madison."

"Whadya mean..."

"You're Mexican. Just because dad adopted you doesn't change that. You get preference over some other people. It's not, ya know, a hundred percent fair, but that's how it works. I'm sure your grades are good enough. Just do good on the ACT. You'll be fine. And have dad talk to George."

"I guess I never thought about it that way. I hope Kathleen gets in up at Madison, too... I think she will. She's got straight A's and stuff... I think she might be like Brett, you know the Bigdicktatorian..."

"That's VALIDICTORIAN, shrimp. Although, with respect to Brett it's not inaccurate."

"TMI, bro... I just wanna get done quick. We might live here and commute. I mean, it's only an hour away and it'd be a whole lot easier. Besides, most lectures are available on video so it's not like I'd have to go to Madison at all unless I had a lab, or an exam or something... Hell, I could even take the Alco Bus! And Kath doesn't care if we live in Madison, or not. You heard about Rose's plan, didn'tcha?"

"I have no idea whatcher talking about..."

"OK, Rose says when Sean finishes the Monterey, she's gonna buy one of the nicer units, she wants you to decorate it because she loves – you have no idea how much – the way you did her house, and she's gonna deed the house on Saint Lawrence to Kath and me when we get married."

"What?"

"Yeah. It'd be perfect. We wanna have lots of kids, and it's a big, old Victorian house with all the little cubbies and nooks and crannies. It's got room for a big family. And I want my kids to grow up in this neighborhood. And we have room over the garage in case we hire a Mrs. Cheadle... I mean, Kath wants to be a mom, but she wants to work, too..."

"Makes sense to me..."

Saturday early afternoon, three cars from Janesville pulled into Sweet Allyn Park in the little hamlet of Shopiere southeast of town.

There was Sean's Equinox bearing Sean, Andy, John and Kathleen; next came Tim and Brett's Regal with Tim, Brett, and the two Tragers; finally came Ginny's Mercedes.

"Hello, boys!" Ginny called out. "You didn't think I was gonna miss this for the world, didja?"

No one was surprised as they all knew, except maybe the Tragers, that Sean asked Ginny to be there.

"I brought some food and refreshments. They're in the trunk if you boys wanna get them over to some tables for us..."

Inside Ginny's trunk were classic wicker picnic baskets with cold fried chicken, potato salad, relish trays and beverages including soda, and two Thermoses of Ginny's favorite Mojitos.

Once set on the table, Ginny seated herself. "Alright, boys! Get some food and then let's get this show on the road. An Old lady like me is hot enough in this weather anyway without being surrounded by young men I feel like undressing with my eye, ya know..."

Both of the Tragers did a double take while the others simply laughed.

"Anyway, Sean, you take it away. I'm only here to observe..." Ginny said.

"Alright," Sean said, "I suppose I should start with Eric and Tory. I'll tell you guys why you're here. This could be your lucky day..."

"What are you talking about, Wyman?" Tory scowled, which brought an elbow to his side from Eric.

"I told you to shut up and listen, Tor... Now, shut up and listen or we'll continue without you," Eric commanded.

"Thanks," Sean said. "OK, Eric, Tory, we know how you guys and your mom suffered when your dad disappeared. We may be able to help you rectify that..."

"Whatever..." Tory sulked.

"Tory, I suggest you pay attention to what I am about to say. I'll pick up where I left off. We hired a private investigator to see if your dad hid assets when he divorced your mom. Ginny here had the idea as according to her everyone in town knew he did that..."

"That's right," Ginny said.

"He's been working on this for a little while now, and we have some preliminary results. Actually, a bit more than preliminary. I'll just bottom line it for ya. So far, from what we know, your dad hid at least $47 million in assets, some liquid, some not, that could fairly be considered marital property under Wisconsin law when he filed for divorce. And it's probably even more than that. It's certainly not less. Your mother would be entitled to half of that as a basis, along with a share of any increase in value since the date of the divorce decree. What that all amounts to I can't explain because I'm not a lawyer. We've asked Dix's dad who is a lawyer to help you guys out if you and your mom decided to go forward. He said he would."

"We can't afford a lawyer," Eric said, looking at the ground.

"Dude," Tim cut in, "you don't hafta. My dad said he'd do it and if he's successful he can bill out later. And trust me, he's looked at all the PI shit, and he said it's a can't-lose case."

"There is just one other thing..." Sean said.

"Isn't there always?" Tory said, a bit less hostile.

"Here's the other thing. If this were to be settled by a Court, it could take a long time. Your dad has money, and he can hire the best lawyer he can find. It might be best just to try to make a deal with him..."

"Whadya mean?" Eric asked.

"Negotiate a deal," Sean answered. "We know as of now he owes your mom at least twenty- three-and-a half million dollars. However, it's also true not all of those assets are liquid. The ones that aren't it could take a while to sell off, and then a Court would have to review the whole thing, and there's the issue of fraud and all the rest of it..."

"I'd like to string him up!" Tory said.

"I bet you would," Sean said, "but is that the smart thing to do? Suppose we can get him to agree to ten, or fifteen million and just let the whole thing go. Your mom's in a much better place then and so are you. It happens quickly, and there's the threat that if he doesn't she'll end up with probably three times that for a liability and he might go to jail for a little while. If you were him, which deal would you take?"

"I guess I see..." Tory said. "But how come you wanna get involved? I mean, like, what's in it for you?"

"That's the first smart thing you've said so far," Brett said.

"I'll tell ya why," John piped up. "It's like this: we know all about the history."

"You do?" Eric said, dumbfounded.

"Yeah, we do..." John continued. "And I do mean ALL about it. Doesn't make it your fault, what your great-grandfather and your grandfather did and what your dad tried to do, and who knows what else, but that's not important. Yeah, we mean to help you, but there's a price."

"Name it," Eric said.

"We want you with us, but the price is your loyalty. Screw us, and you're done. Play ball with us, and the world's your oyster. But we're gonna need your help if this is gonna work, guys. So are you in or out?"

"What exactly do you know?" Eric asked.

"It's like this," Tim said. "Sorry, Wymo, but this is family lore, and I'm prolly the best one to tell it..."

"You're right, Dix. Go ahead."

"Anyway, like I said, it's like this. See, my great-grandfather, Ginny's father-in-law and your great-grandfather were all partners together a long time ago. It was business on their part, and my great-grandfather was their lawyer. He also hired the accountants that kept their books, and a penny wouldn't have fit between my great-grandfather's ass cheeks. Everything was fine. But then Prohibition came along. See, those old guys were financiers. They were money guys. Inherited small fortunes all three from real estate which is how all the old money in this town was made. They invested together, made shitloads of money off of World War I and during the 1920's. They were some of the few who cashed out before the crash in 1929. But it was kinda like the Wild West in those days. Anyway, I'm getting ahead of myself... Ginny can I have one of those Mojitos?"

"Coming up, Tim," Ginny said. "I need one, too. I'm moist..."

Mojito in hand, Tim pressed on. "OK, so where was I... Yeah... Prohibition came along, and everything was going fine until my great-grandfather discovered through his accountants some, shall we say, discrepancies in the books. I'll bottom line it, your great-grandfather was skimming off the top, and it wasn't just a little bit. And it wasn't just money, it was product. And it wasn't just product, it was, well, he tried to arrange for a hit. Two hits, actually. He wanted to bump off the other two guys."

"Is that how he died?" Eric asked.

"Not exactly," Tim answered.

END CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT