Appearances, copyright 2006, 2007, 2008, by Etienne. All rights reserved.
If the idea of two men loving each other and expressing that love in a sexual manner offends you, then you have clearly come to the wrong place. Feel free to leave.
-64-
We went to St. Phillip’s in two cars Sunday morning. Steve and Roger took the girls in my car, and Charles drove the five adults in Grans Town Car, Gran having declined to attend.
After lunch, the boys went to the back of the property to begin constructing the new greenhouse. They had purchased a do-it-yourself book at Home Depot, and selected a design which pleased everyone. The girls elected to go with them and serve as gophers for the project. Lance, as usual, followed the boys.
We spent most of the afternoon in the sun room, visiting with our guests. At one point, Grace brought the two toddlers downstairs and left them with us while she went back upstairs to care for the younger two.
“Did I understand from someone, that you guys are planning to have two more children?” Sylvia said.
“There will be two final additions to our tribe sometime in July,” I said.
“Well,” Jack said, “I’ve never known you to do anything half way.”
Sylvia, who had been gazing at the grounds beyond the sun room, said, “Your garden is lovely, Mrs. Barnett.”
“Thank you, my dear,” Gran said. “Steve and Roger are responsible for much of what you see.”
“Good for them,” Marie said.
“Did you know, Charles,” Gran said, “that Steve has presented me with a grand plan for revamping all of the plantings in front of the house?”
“No I didn’t,” Charles said.
“Neither did I,” I said, “but knowing him, I’ll bet he wants to include a modest little sign at the entrance to the driveway, announcing that the landscaping is by R & S.”
“I told him that I would think about it after I consulted with the two of you,” Gran said.
“What are they going to use the new greenhouse for?” Jack said.
“To root cuttings which they can later sell,” I said.
“They buy nearly all of their plants from an old couple who live outside of Atlanta,” I said. “They have several greenhouses and a good deal of acreage, some of which is not being used by their nursery operation. After the cuttings take root, the boys will transfer them into pots and take them to that nursery.”
“Where will they get the cuttings to root?” Marie said.
“I asked Steve that,” Charles said. “It was a dumb question, although he didn’t say it. ‘Uncle Charles,’ he said, ‘every time we do a job that includes hedges or shrubbery, we accumulate tons of clippings of all kinds.’”
“Actually,” I said, “I’m 99% certain that Mr. and Mrs. Johnson, who own the nursery, are going to want to retire and sell out in a couple of years. Mason and I are planning to help them acquire the property if and when the time comes.”
“They probably won’t need any help,” Charles said.
“What do you mean,” I said.
“After you, Mason, and the other parents settle your suits against Gwinnett County,” Charles said, “you will all be in a position to set up trust funds for the kids.”
“I hadn’t thought about that,” I said, “but if we do that, and structure it properly, the boys will have all the capital they need to expand their business.”
“You wouldn’t just turn huge sums of money over to them, would you?” Jack said.
“Of course not,” I said. “I’ll set up a trust that wouldn’t allow Steve access to the capital until he was 25 or so, but there is no reason that the trust couldn’t buy the property for him.”
“When you come down to it,” Charles said, “neither Steve nor Roger have shown any tendencies toward extravagance.”
“True,” I said. “I help them with their accounting, and monitor their bank accounts. They are very careful with their money.”
“They work hard to earn it,” Charles said, “and they can be reluctant to part with it.”
“I’ll let Randolph set it up when the time comes,” I said, “and now that Mason is his client, I suspect he will do the same.”
“Randolph Forney is an Accountant, and Tax Attorney,” Charles said by way of explanation. “Philip has used him for years, and so do I.”
“He has an absolute aversion to allowing any client to pay taxes that can be legally avoided,” I said.
“Sounds like my kind of guy,” Jack said.
Marie and Sylvia decided to visit a couple of the Malls, and Charles invited Jack and myself for a spin in his airplane. Charles really enjoyed flying, but did not find nearly enough time to indulge his hobby, and we were happy to join him.
Jack was delighted to sit in the co-pilot’s seat, and genuinely enjoyed our two hours of flight. It was a beautiful day for it, with a clear sky and virtually unlimited visibility. Our flight took us up the I-85 corridor almost to the foothills of the Smokey Mountains, and then we circled around to the West for a while before heading South to the airport.
When we were back in the car, Jack was profuse in expressing his enjoyment of the experience.
We parked in the garage, and decided to check up on the construction project before going inside the house. Steve and Roger were on stepladders, fastening roof panels, and the girls were nailing side panels in place.
“I’m impressed,” I said, as I looked at the structure.
“Thanks,” Steve said. “We’ll be finished by dark I think, except for the benches inside.”
“Benches?” Charles said.
“Benches along each wall, which will hold trays of vermiculite for the cuttings,” Steve said.
“Steve thinks we’ll have room for hundreds of cuttings,” Roger said.
“Probably more than that,” Steve said, “and when they are big enough to be in gallon containers, they will be worth big bucks.”
“What kind of cuttings will you root?” Jack said.
“Whatever will grow the fastest and sell for the most,” Steve said.
“That’s the entrepreneurial spirit,” I said.
We left them to their project, and walked back to the house, just in time to help Marie and Sylvia unload the car.
“It looks as though you ladies had a grand time at the Malls,” Charles said.
“Saks and Lord and Taylor were having sales,” Sylvia said.
“And you know we can’t pass up a good sale,” Marie said.
“As long as there is room in your luggage, no problem,” I said.
“Well, Jack may have to leave one or two things here with you,” Sylvia said, “so that I can get my purchases safely home.”
Jack opened his mouth to reply, but before he could, Sylvia said, “Just kidding.”
“What have you guys been up to?” Marie said, once we were all settled back in the sun room.
“Charles took us for a ride in his airplane,” Jack said.
“Did you have a good time?” Sylvia said.
“You bet,” he said. “I rode in the co-pilot’s seat, and it was great.”
“Where are the kids?” Marie said.
“Still working on the greenhouse,” I said. “We just came from there. They’re very nearly done with the structure.”
“Why don’t you go take a look?” Charles said.
“Okay,” Marie said, “we will.”
She and Sylvia headed for the back door.
“I need to go down to the cellar and select a wine for this evening,” Charles said. “You didn’t see the wine cellar when you were here last year, did you, Jack?”
“No I didn’t,” Jack said.
“Then let’s go have a look,” I said.
We went downstairs, and Charles unlocked the door to the wine cellar and turned on the lights. Jack was dumbfounded.
“This is amazing,” Jack said.
“Isn’t it?” I said. “Charles’ great-grandfather started this cellar, and his grandfather continued the tradition.”
“My Father wasn’t all that interested,” Charles said, “but after my Grandfather died, I picked up the ball and carried on the tradition.”
Jack was wandering up and down the aisles, reading labels. “I’m no expert,” he said, “but I know enough to realize that there is some really high quality wine here.”
“You bet,” Charles said. “My grandfather bought a case of each of the First Growth Bordeaux wines every year, and I have done the same. I’ve branched out into vintages from Burgundy, California, and Australia as well.”
“We belong to the Atlanta Wine and Food Society,” I said. “They have monthly wine tastings.”
“Right,” Charles said, “and there is so much wine here that is almost past prime, that the Society has been dipping into our stock for some of the tastings.”
“You don’t give it to them, do you?” Jack said.
“By no means,” Charles said. “The way it works is, if the Society uses say two cases of vintage 1950 XYZ, they reimburse us the cost of the current vintage of the same wine.”
Charles took a large three-ring binder from a shelf by the door, and handed it to Jack. “See if anything in there interests you, Jack, and we’ll have it with our dinner.”
“Anything?”
“Well, almost anything,” Charles said, with a smile. “There are a few bottles in here that are extremely rare, and therefore extremely valuable. I prefer to reserve them for an extremely special occasion.”
“How will I know?” Jack said.
“Just don’t select anything with the word ‘hold’ written in red ink beside the name.”
Jack flipped through the pages of the notebook, studying them carefully. “This is overwhelming,” he said, handing me the notebook. “You choose.”
“Do you have a preference for Bordeaux or Burgundy, Jack,” I said. “Never mind, I have it. We’ll try the Balmoral Syrah tonight, Charles.”
“Good choice,” Charles said.
“Balmoral what?” Jack said.
“Balmoral Syrah is a high end wine made from the Shiraz grape by Rosemount Estate Winery in the upper Hunter Valley of Australia,” I said. “It’s really quite extraordinary.”
“What do you think, babe?” Charles said. “Will three bottles be enough for tonight?”
“With seven adults, plus Steve and Roger, perhaps we could use four bottles,” I said.
“We are introducing the boys to good wine,” Charles said.
“That’s not a bad idea,” Jack said.
“We’re trying to teach them to use alcohol with respect,” I said. “Although I am Steve’s guardian, I consult Marie on things like this, and she agrees, as do Roger’s parents.”
Charles retrieved four bottles of the wine, and we headed back upstairs. He took the bottles to the dining room, and put them into the small wine cooler for later use.
We arrived back in the sun room just as Sylvia and Marie did.
“Well,” I said, “what did you think of their project?”
“It was impressive,” Marie said. “The boys clearly know what they are doing, as well as what they intend to achieve.”
“I agree,” Sylvia said. “When you referred to those two as budding Capitalists, you were right on the money. Do they ever take time to have fun?”
“Yes they do,” I said. “They go to the movies and/or out to dinner with friends about once a week.”
Charles looked at his watch, and said, “Unless I am wrong, Grace should have the tribe up in the playroom about now.”
“I’ll go with you,” I said, “but the rest of you are under no obligation to do so.”
I was talking to the wall, as the women were eager to see the little ones, and Jack had to tag along.
We had been in the playroom for a while when the girls turned up. Charlene, the oldest, said, “Mom, can we go in the pool for a while before dinner?”
“As long as Steve and Roger are with you,” Marie said.
“Thanks, Mom,” Charlene said, and she ran back down the stairs.
Dinner had been scheduled for eight, and by seven-thirty, the adults were all assembled in the library. Charles had opened one of the bottles of Balmoral Syrah, and divided it equally between the seven adults who were present. The younger generation were in the sun room.
Jack took one sip and said, “God, that’s probably the best wine I’ve ever tasted.”
“It is very good, isn’t it,” Marie said.
“No argument there,” I said, “especially since I chose it for the evening.”
Sylvia took in her surroundings, and said, “This is a wonderful room, Mrs. Barnett.”
“We like it,” Gran said, “but we don’t use it all that often.”
“Charles put it to good use when his leg was in a cast,” I said.
“How so?” Marie said.
“He was itching to go back to work,” I said, “but Andrew Chandler, who was then the retiring Senior Partner of the firm suggested that he make the important clients come to him.”
“Andrew is a very shrewd man,” Charles said. “He suggested that I set up a table in front of the fireplace, and impress the clients with the setting. I agreed, thinking that it would dispel any doubts they might have concerning my relative youth.”
“I’ve known Andrew most of my life,” Gran said, “and I can tell you that he is a shrewd judge of character.”
“Did you want to be Senior Partner, Charles?” Jack said.
“In a word, no,” Charles said. “Then as now, I much preferred being in the Courtroom.”
“The portrait over the fireplace is your Grandfather, isn’t it,” Sylvia said.”
“Yes,” Charles said. “He was a Federal Judge at the time of his death.”
“Do you have aspirations in that regard?” Jack said.
“Others have asked me that question,” Charles said, “and I’ll give you the same answer I gave them. I’ve thought about it, but right now I’m having too much fun doing what I do to even think about a change.”
Goodman walked into the library at that point to announce that dinner was being served.
The dining room table was at near capacity. When Grace joined us, along with Steve and Roger, there were ten of us. The four younger children were being served at a table in the sun room.
Mrs. Goodman had already placed serving dishes on the table, and she hovered around until she was certain that everything was satisfactory. She then excused herself, and returned to the kitchen.
Charles carefully poured a small amount of the wine for both Steve and Roger. “If you don’t like this,” Charles said, “be honest, and say so. It’s too good to be wasted.”
The boys each took a sip and swirled it in their mouths as we had taught them.
“Not bad,” Steve said.
“Pretty good,” Roger said.
“There you go,” I said, “expert opinions, freely rendered.”
The dinner was wonderful, and the conversation lively. It eventually turned to the boys’ business.
“Steve,” Jack said, “how did you and Roger get into the irrigation business?”
“Pretty much by accident, Uncle Jack,” Steve said, “and we have learned an awful lot since then.”
“Some of the more expensive homes are installing separate plumbing systems for the sinks, showers, and tubs,” Roger said. “That water is called ‘gray water,’ and runs into an underground cistern, which also collects rainwater from the gutters.”
“Right,” Steve said, “and that water is used for irrigation.”
“The only complicated part,” Roger said, “is installing a backup system to provide regular water if there isn’t enough rain or ‘gray’ water.”
“How in the world did you learn to do all that?” Marie said.
“We bought a couple of do-it-yourself books,” Steve said. “It isn’t very complicated.”
“Working with PVC pipe is easy,” Roger said, “and most of it is merely common sense.”
“The demand for sprinkler systems is huge,” Steve said. “We’re probably going to have to run a third crew pretty soon, just to handle that part of the business.”
“When?” I said.
“At least by the time school is out,” Roger said. “Maybe a bit sooner.”
“We’ll have the current loan paid off by then,” Steve said.
“I don’t doubt that for one minute,” Mason said, “and Philip and I will stake you again, as needed.”
“That we will,” I said.
“Steve,” I said, “I couldn’t help but notice something when you and Roger were in the pool yesterday.”
“What’s that, Uncle Philip.” Steve said.
“If I had to guess, I’d say that the two of you have been working out,” I said.
“Does it show?” Roger said.
“Of course it does,” I said.
“When do you find the time?” Charles said.
“We get up an hour early, at least three times a week,” Steve said, “and go use the workout room. We shower and dress there before breakfast.”
“Good for you,” Mason said.
“How long has this been going on?” Charles said.
“I don’t know for sure,” Steve said, “since Thanksgiving, I think.”
“Yeah, about that long,” Roger said.
“Are you working for muscle mass or definition?” I said.
“Definition,” Roger said.
“That’s the smart way to go,” Mason said. “I did some of that when I was in my twenties.”
“And look at you now,” Angela said.
“Whatever do you mean,” Mason said. “I’m in pretty good shape for forty.”
“I guess I can’t argue with that,” Angela said. “I apologize.” Her smile said that she had been kidding all along.
“Anyone want some more wine?” I said, hoping to change the subject.
“Definitely,” Jack said.
“Ditto,” Mason said.
The ladies merely held up their glasses. Charles got up and made the rounds with the wine bottle.
When he had returned to his seat, Charles said, “So, Jack, are you going to take up flying?”
“I don’t really have time for it,” Jack said, “but the idea is tempting.”
“Charles took Jack and me up in the plane for a couple of hours this afternoon,” I said.
“It was an amazing experience,” Jack said. “I’d never flown in a small plane before.”
When we had finished dinner, Charles said, “Would anyone like a small glass of port? We can join the kids in the sun room.”
I helped Charles bring the bottle of Port and tray of glasses, and we settled in the sun room for a while. An hour or so later, the Cartwrights left, and the rest of us retired.
Monday morning was more than a little hectic. Marie and the girls had a nine o’clock flight, but Jack and Sylvia weren’t scheduled to leave until noon. In the end, Jack and I drove Marie and the girls to the airport and saw them off. An hour later, I drove Jack and Sylvia to Hartsfield, so they could catch their flight.
I arrived home in time to have a late lunch with Gran, over which the two of us revisited the events of the weekend.
When Steve and Roger got home that evening, I went looking for them, and found them in their room, doing their homework.
“Hi guys,” I said, the door was open.
“What’s up?” Steve said.
“Not much,” I said, “except I have two envelopes from Georgia Tech which came today. One for each of you.” I handed them the envelopes.
They tore the envelopes open eagerly.
I waited a minute for them to examine the contents, and said, “Well?”
“The letter says that we are both eligible to take courses in the Summer programs,” Roger said.
“Yeah,” Steve said, “look at this, we could take Beginning Drafting in the Summer A term, and Intermediate Drafting in the Summer B term.”
“Why not?” I said. “As I recall, you will both need those courses. What’s the deadline for registering for them?”
“The end of this month,” Roger said.
“Yeah,” Steve said, “but if we want to get in, we’d better do it now.”
“Can you register on line?” I said.
“It says here that we can,” Steve said.
“Can you handle the costs?” I said.
“No problem,” Roger said. “We’re good for it.”
“Then I’ll leave you to it,” I said, and I left the room. Before I went back to the office, I took a look at the room we had begun to call ‘the little room under the stairs.’ It wasn’t really a little room, but enlarging the stairway to the attic had narrowed it somewhat. Surveying the room confirmed what I had been thinking about for some time. I went to the office and made a telephone call.
Two days later, when the boys got home, Angela and I were waiting for them.
“Mom,” Roger said, “what’s happening?”
She gave him a hug and said, “You and Steve come down the hall. Philip and I have a surprise for you.”
We led the boys down to the little room, and opened the door. I let Angela do the talking.
“We decided that since you are starting College, you need a better place to study, so we fixed this room up for you.
The room now contained a pair of easy chairs in one corner, with a reading lamp between them. There were two decent size desks on the opposite wall, and a good quality drafting table was in another corner. Freestanding bookcases had been placed under the stairway.
The boys were overwhelmed.
“Wow,” Steve said. “You guys didn’t have to do this.”
“Steve, nobody has to do anything,” I said, “but we wanted to. You and Roger have gotten so independent, paying your own way and such, that we decided it was time we did something for you.”
“Gee, Mom,” Roger said, “I don’t know what to say, except thanks a bunch.”
“A hug would be good,” Angela said.
“You got it,” Roger said.
Steve grabbed me in a bear hug, and said, “Thanks, Uncle Philip.”
“You’ve earned it,” I said, “and you deserve it. Set the room up any way you like. There’s plenty of room for your computers and printer, and I’m pretty sure this room is in range of the wireless router in the office. There’s also room for your filing cabinet under the stairs.”
“All right,” Roger said. “Let’s do it.”
The boys hurried out of the room, presumably to start moving.
Angela looked at me and smiled, “It’s good to know we can still surprise them,” she said.
“True,” I said. “Can I offer you a glass of wine?”
“Thanks, but I have to get home and look after the rest of my family.”
“Any change in attitude there?” I said.
“Not much.”
“I really thought when Jack asked Roger to participate in the car wash that we were seeing the beginnings of a thaw.”
“I’ve done a little probing about that,” she said. “It turns out that Jack’s best friend has an older brother on the team, and the friend was planning to participate.”
“That would explain it,” I said. I saw her to the door, and went to the sun room, where Gran was sitting, with a book in her lap.
“Well?” she said.
“They were overwhelmed,” I said.
“Good,” she said. “They work hard and deserve something special once in a while. It was very clever of you to involve Angela in your little project.”
“I did it for a reason,” I said. “She has to feel somewhat left out of Roger’s life and I thought bringing her in on fixing up the room would help.”
“As I said, it was very clever of you.”
“By the way,” I said, “I’m going to be gone a couple of days next week. I have to run up to North Carolina to handle some real estate matters.”
“Don’t worry about it, my boy,” she said. “This household is like a well oiled machine, and pretty much runs itself.”
“Before I leave, I’ll give you and Grace my hotel number and the number of the realtor I’m seeing. The boys will have the numbers also.”
Gran knew about the mountain hideaway, and asked, “Are you increasing your existing holdings, or purchasing somewhere else.”
“This will be an expansion,” I said. “We already own a couple of tracts in the same valley, and I am closing on an abandoned farm property.”
“If I may ask, what are you going to do with it?”
“The plan is to renovate the farmhouse, and install a married couple as caretakers,” I said. “Then I am going to establish a grass landing strip so that we can fly in when we wish to do so.”
“Does Charles have much experience landing on grass strips?”
“He says he does, and I have no reason to doubt him. He told me how long the strip needed to be, and I have allowed for that length, plus an extra hundred yards or so.”
“It sounds as though you have things well in hand,” she said.
“Perhaps,” I said. “I will have a surprise or two in store for him by the time the project is finished.”
Mason stopped by after dinner to look at the new room. After Roger had given his father the tour, Mason joined us in the study for a glass of wine.
“I can’t thank you enough for involving Angela in that little project,” Mason said. “It meant a lot to her.”
“I thought it might,” I said. “That’s why I did it.”
“Mason,” Charles said, “have you given any thought to a graduation present for Roger next year?”
“Not really,” Mason said, “but obviously you have something in mind.”
“We have been talking about taking the boys to Europe for ten days or so,” I said.
“So far, it’s just talk,” Charles said, “but we might fly into Paris for a couple of days, and then take the Chunnel Train to London.”
“If you like the idea,” I said, “why don’t you and Angela come along.”
“You might even bring Jack and Harry with you,” Charles said.
“Have you and Angela been to Europe?” I said.
“We went to Paris on our honeymoon,” Mason said, “but somehow we’ve never gotten around to going back.”
“Think about it, and talk it over with Angela,” Charles said. “It’s too early to do anything now, but I like to start making reservations at least by Fall.”
“Will do,” Mason said.
Our conversation was ended by the arrival of Steve and Roger. They had some paperwork in their hands.
“While you’re here, Dad,” Roger said, “we want to show you the latest operating statement on the business.” He handed Mason a document, and Steve handed one to me.
I examined my copy carefully, and gave it to Charles.
“You guys are really going full tilt,” I said, “and summer isn’t even here.”
“We know,” Steve said, “and we’re ready to buy a third truck and trailer to be used for the irrigation side of things.”
“Yeah,” Roger said, “and the trailer needs to be longer, so it can carry 20 foot long sections of PVC pipe.”
“Either that,” Steve said, “or we need some sort of steel frame that can allow the pipe to be carried on the truck.”
“I’ve seen that sort of thing,” Mason said, “and it looks a little more practical than an extra long trailer.”
“Welding shops fabricate rigs like that all the time,” I said, “using angle iron.”
“Then let’s do it,” Mason said. “Same terms as last time?”
“Yes, sir,” Roger said.
“Uncle Philip,” Steve said, “do you have time to go with us next week?”
“If we can do it on Monday, I can,” I said. “I’m going to be gone Tuesday and most of Wednesday.”
“What’s wrong with Saturday?” Charles said. “Car dealers are open seven days a week.”
“If Steve and Roger don’t have any jobs scheduled, we can find a truck Saturday morning,” I said.
“For that matter,” Charles said, “call the salesman who sold you the last two trucks and ask him to find one and bring it to you.”
“Now why didn’t I think of that,” I said.
“Because you don’t have a trained legal mind?” Charles said.
“I wouldn’t touch that one, if I were you,” Mason said. “Anyhow, I’ve got to run along home. Let me know when you have a deal, and I’ll get you a check for my share.”
Roger went to the door with his dad, and Steve retrieved the business card of the truck salesman. I called the man, told him what we wanted, said thanks, and ended the call.
“Well?” Steve said.
“He has just what you’re looking for, and will be here in half an hour,” I said.
“Greed is a powerful motivator, isn’t it?” Charles said.
“At least when you are a commissioned salesman,” I said.
Joe Leone, the salesman, arrived at our door almost exactly one half hour later. He was driving a Ranger almost identical to the two trucks the boys already had, except that it was almost new and had very low mileage.
The boys looked it over, and took it for a test drive with the salesman in one of the jump seats.
When they returned, I asked Joe to join us in the house. We offered him a drink, which he politely declined, accepting ice tea instead. We haggled for perhaps thirty minutes, and he finally accepted my offer, but not before he called his boss for approval.
I went on line to the Credit Union and transferred funds from an account Charles and I maintained, into the boys corporate account, and Steve and Roger wrote a check for the truck.
The dealership faxed some paperwork to us, and everything was signed to Joe’s satisfaction. Steve and Roger drove him back to his office in the truck, and picked up the temporary tag and other paperwork.
“Well,” I said, after they had left, “that’s half the battle.”
“It may have been a mistake, inviting him here,” Charles said.
“Why?”
“I think he took one look at his surroundings and decided he had an easy sale.”
“You may be right, but it didn’t work out quite that way, did it?”
It was a rhetorical question, and he didn’t bother to answer.
When the boys returned with the paperwork, I called our insurance agent at home and asked him to verbally bind the company for the necessary coverages.
“Okay, guys,” I said, “do you need me to go with you to buy the trailer tomorrow?”
“I think we can do that, Uncle Philip,” Steve said.
“And there is a welding shop out near the nursery,” Roger said. “We’ll go out there in the morning and talk to them about racks for the pipe.”
“Good,” I said. “Just don’t let them talk you into buying more than you need.”
“What do you mean, Uncle Philip?” Steve said.
We were still in the office, so I took a yellow pad out, and made a rough sketch.
“All you need, I think, is something simple like this,” I said.
“They might try to convince you to do something much more elaborate and expensive,” Charles said.
“Maybe you should come with us,” Roger said.
“No,” I said, “you’ve got to learn to deal with this sort of thing. Just trust your instincts. If they try to make it too elaborate or complicated, trust your gut, and walk away from it.”
“That’s good advice,” Charles said. “There are lots of welding shops in the area.”
Charles and I returned to the study, and the boys went to their room. We settled down with a glass of wine.
“With all the activity this evening,” Charles said, “I haven’t had time to ask you something.”
“What?”
“Want to go to D. C. for a couple of days?”
“When?”
“At the end of next week, or early the following week.”
“Why?”
“You know, the Secretary of the Treasury has resigned,” he said.
“Yes.”
“One of my clients has been nominated for the post, and has asked me to accompany him to his Senate hearing.”
“Who is the client?” I said.
“I don’t think you know him. His name is Raymond Delaney, and he is CEO of the AllSouth Banking group.”
“You know I’ll follow you anywhere,” I said.
“Great. I should have an exact date by Tuesday.”
The boys acquired another trailer Saturday morning, and contracted with the welding company to fabricate a suitable rig for their truck. They had a lot of jobs lined up for over the weekend, but still found time to finish the greenhouse and fill it with plants.
Late Sunday afternoon, they asked us to come see the finished project.
The greenhouse was ten feet or so in width, and perhaps thirty feet long. There were two layers of benches along each wall, with a wide center aisle.
The benches held plastic bins full of vermiculite, and were full of cuttings. Each bin contained a small plastic plant marker which gave the name of the shrub and the date. Mist propagators filled the air over the cuttings with a fine mist of water.
“Wow,” I said. “I’m impressed.”
“Me, too,” Charles said. “Is the redwood bare, or did you stain it?”
“We treated and stained it, so that it would last a lot longer,” Steve said.
I was reading the markers. “What’s photinia?” I said.
“Photinia fraseri is a hedge plant, more commonly known as ‘red tip,’” Steve said. “You see a lot of them. They make a good hedge, but they’re not as popular as they used to be because they have to be sprayed for black spot.”
Charles was also examining the markers. “This one says Y hemerocallis, what’s that?” Charles said.
“Hemerocallis means Daylily,” Steve said. “The ‘Y’ is for yellow.”
“I didn’t know you could root them from cuttings,” I said.
“You can’t,” Steve said. “But some varieties have little sprouts on the scape when they are blooming. These little sprouts are called proliferations, and they can be rooted.”
“Scape?” I said.
“Scape is the proper name for the stalk on which the blossoms form,” Steve said.
“How many cuttings do you guys have in here?” Charles said.
“Too many to count,” Roger said. “Steve started to count them, but decided it wasn’t worth it.”
“There’s not much point in doing this,” Steve said, “if you don’t have enough to supply your customers.”
“You’re going to need a wholesale source for plastic containers when these babies are ready to be potted,” I said.
“Mr. and Mrs. Johnson have already given us the names of their suppliers,” Roger said.
“All I can say is, well done,” Charles said.
“Well done, indeed,” I said.
“Be sure and send your mother a picture of this, Steve,” I said.
“Been there, done that,” Steve said.
-To be continued-
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Your feedback, as always, is appreciated, be it good, bad, or indifferent.
My thanks as always to the tireless Rockhunter for editing the last few chapters.