Chapter 32
THE LEGACY
Johner closed the door of the hospital room behind them and turned to Sarah; tears were running down her face. "Oh, Johner, it’s so awful to see him so helpless!"
He put his arms around her and pulled her head down on his shoulder. "We won’t let him go on like this, babe. They say he won’t live very long; but like I told him, we won’t leave him like this."
George was paralyzed. A stroke had hit him while he worked late; the cleaning crew found him unconscious, and now he lay in a hospital bed, unable to speak or move.
But although he couldn’t talk, he had made his wishes clear to Johner and Sarah when they got to the hospital. His eyes were eloquent; they moved back and forth from the medical apparatus to Johner’s face, clearly begging for release.
Johner reached down and took his hand "I hear you, man. I know what you want, and you can depend on me; I won’t leave you like this. George, I’m going to shoot straight with you; the doctor says you’re not going to live very long. So, and only if it’s all right with you, I’d rather not be the instrument here if waiting a little while will let you go without my help. Is that all right with you? I promise it won’t be very many days. OK, George? Blink at me if it’s OK."
George blinked, while tears traced shiny tracks from the corners of his eyes. Johner smiled down at him. "OK. It’s a deal. We’re going to leave you now, they told us not to stay very long. But I’m here, George, and you can count on me."
As it turned out, Johner’s intervention wasn’t necessary. George died that night.
*******
"My God, Connor, he’s left us the business!" Johner looked up from the will, stunned.
"What?" Sarah got up to look over his shoulder at the document which he had received as executor. "I don’t believe it! Why on earth---what about Marie and Heather? Read it to me, Johner."
It was true; George had left the business jointly to Johner, Sarah and Marie. He had no other close relatives; some cousins received bequests from his personal estate, but the business was completely in Johner and Sarah’s hands. Marie had no hand in running it; she was only to receive a third of the profits. He had left the bulk of his personal estate to her; however, that money was in trust and Johner was named as administrator.
"He wanted to make sure that no-good bum Cliff didn’t get hold of his money." Johner smiled. "He sure didn’t like that man. Well, I don’t like him either. He won’t get any of Marie’s money out of me!"
Sarah grinned. "I believe that! It was really smart of George to make you responsible, Johner. He knew you’d see to it that Marie and Heather are taken care of, and he trusted you completely.
"Now that I think about it, I guess I can see why he left the business to us," she continued. "He knew there was no way Marie could run it. This way Marie will be comfortable all her life with the income from it, plus what he left her. It’s safer for her than to receive a chunk of money all at once from the sale of the business. And I think he didn’t want it to be sold to someone who might not care about it like he did."
Johner was silent for a minute, thinking. "I think you’re right. The business was his life; he’d spent forty years building it, and he wanted it to be in safe hands. Well, it is. We’ll see to it that it goes on just the way he would have wanted it; that’ll be easy, because it’s the way we want it too."
Then he looked up at Sarah, still standing behind him and leaning over his shoulder; his face was full of wonder. "Look at me. I’m the owner of a business, I have a beautiful woman whom I adore and who’ll be mine forever, a home full of love, a son to be proud of. Connor, if anyone had told me---! I’m the luckiest man on the face of the earth!"
Sarah smiled at him, and put her hand over his. "You always say that you’re the luckiest man. How about the luckiest woman? How do you think I feel? I started life slinging hash in a crummy restaurant. Then I spent years in the nuthouse, not to speak of jail. Now look at me! I’ve got all the things you mentioned, plus all the women I know are jealous of me because of the man that’s mine forever, and that I adore. Johner, you and I have a lot to be thankful for."
*******
The news that the business now belonged to Johner and Sarah was a nine days’ wonder at the office. There were a few disgruntled faces, every office has its malcontents; however, most of the employees were quick with sincere congratulations. Johner took the entire staff out to dinner to celebrate the new era, and when the time came for speeches, Lou Peabody was the spokesman for his fellows. He stood up, champagne glass in hand, to salute the new owners. "George always knew what he was doing, and he didn’t let us down in the end. You two are the best choice, and we’re all happy with it! Here’s to the new owners of the old business!" He raised his glass, and everyone drank to the health of Johner, Connor, and Marie, who was present for the occasion, and to the business.
Johner stood next. "Thanks, Lou, and thank you all. I guess I don’t have to tell you that we were stunned when we read the will. George never gave us the slightest reason to think we’d be in it at all. I think he’s probably chuckling right now over the shock it gave me." He grinned and shook his head. "We’ll miss him personally, and probably more than I realize at this moment, we’ll miss him in the business. Neither of us has ever run a business before; it’s going to be a learning experience. I hope we can count on your help."
********
Johner wasn’t sleeping very well. Sarah woke up to find him gone, not for the first time in the last few weeks.
He was, predictably, in the kitchen drinking coffee. "Well, I see that you felt that worrying was more important than sleeping again." She put her hands on his shoulders, standing close behind him where he sat at the table, letting him feel the comforting warmth of her body.
He reached up to cover her hands with his. "Well, dammit, it’s a hell of a burden to be responsible for the paychecks of thirty five people. What if the money isn’t there to cover the payroll one day? Jesus, Connor, I feel like the whole world is depending on me, and waiting for me to fuck up!"
"They don’t think you’re going to fuck up, and neither do I. Do you wish I’d take more part in running things, Johner? I’m sure more comfortable not, but if you want me to---?"
"No. No, I don’t. I know you’re not crazy about the idea of administering anything." He turned his head and smiled up at her. "You’re more of an action girl; just love having a gun in your hand, don’t you?" He grinned evilly. "A shrink might have something interesting to say about that!"
"Do you want me to stop handling---a gun?" Her grin was as evil as his.
He laughed. "No, Connor, I want you to keep on doing just what you’ve been doing, it’s very satisfactory. I’ve got no complaints. Now, can we get back to my worrying? I’m not nearly done for the night." He stopped and thought for a minute. "You know what, Connor? In spite of my worries, I think I’m going to like running the business, if I ever get over being scared shitless."
"Everything is going OK, isn’t it? I mean you’re not really short of cash or anything?"
"Everything’s fine. It’s just as good as it ever was; George had a fine reputation, a good clientele, and a lot of good word of mouth. And people seem to trust me; in this business that’s of prime importance. I had a guy tell me the other day that if I was good enough for George, that was good enough for him. That really made me feel good, Connor."
"I would think so. It’s true, too. I’m sure a lot of clients are willing to accept George’s choice. They had forty years of his word being good. That’s hard to beat!"
"You’re right about that. ---Come around here and sit down where I can see your face, Connor. I’ve got something else to say."
She did as he asked. "OK---but I don’t like the sound of this. I’m not going to like it, am I."
He smiled and took her hands across the table. "I’m not sure. Connor, a long time ago we made a deal. The deal was, you wouldn’t go out on any chancy job without me. You remember that, don’t you?"
"I’m getting old, but I’m not senile yet. So?" She was looking very defensive.
"Well, unless I want to be working fifteen hours a day, I’m going to have to cut down on the field work. What are we going to do about that?"
She frowned down at their joined hands. "I saw this coming. I don’t know what we’re going to do." She paused. "To tell you the truth, Johner, I don’t trust anyone else. I don’t think I’d be happy with anyone but you."
"Good! I’ve finally convinced you that you need me! That’s music to my ears, Connor." He eyed her slyly.
"Don’t get uppity! I can still get along without you!" She looked up at him from under her brows, smiling. "I just don’t want to. To tell you the absolute truth---God, I can’t believe I’m going to say this---I’m getting a little tired of all this action. Maybe---maybe I’ll go on part-time." She brightened, and sat up straight. "Maybe I’ll learn to cook!"
"Oh my God! Don’t get carried away! Think of the health of your family!" He tried to look alarmed, but couldn’t keep from laughing. "Please, Connor, let’s keep this discussion on a realistic basis. Let’s only talk about things that are within the realm of the possible!"
"Johner, you’re still a smartass. After all these years, I haven’t really taught you a thing."
"Well, talk about a smartass---, did you really think I’d believe that you want to go on part-time? But maybe there’s another way. I’ve got an idea I’ve been playing with.
"How do you feel about teaching, Connor? Teaching what you’ve been doing all these years; what you’re so damn good at. We’ve been hearing for years about the shortage of security people, and how they’re always inadequately trained; maybe there’s an opportunity there."
Sarah looked up at him, her attention caught. "Maybe. Maybe there is."
In ten minutes they were deep in planning.