Exposed: Chapter 30
James spent his first day at home hanging around the apartment trying to think about what he would say at his father's funeral and getting nowhere. So, the next day he drove out to the estate to see how preparations for the family visitation were going.
James was happy and surprised to see Sandy was there since officially she wasn't on staff yet, but he also knew she was there to support Michael. Although Noah was there to provide advice and assistance, this was a bit of a trial by fire for the new estate manager.
After telling Sandy how much he appreciated her coming to help, he asked if she left Peter and the children in Texas. "No," she said. "They're in the kitchen helping Betty. I told Betty that we could get catering to provide refreshments and service, but I was told that this was her final act of service for your father."
James nodded and headed to the kitchen. When Betty saw James enter, she rushed over and threw her arms around him, and they hugged and cried. This was going to be much harder than James imagined.
Next, he went to talk with Peter and his sisters. After expressing his condolences, Peter congratulated James on his state swimming success.
"Thanks," James said, "but shouldn't you be getting ready for your state swim meet?"
"I have all next week to do that, plus I told the coach about the pool and the gym here on the estate, and his comment was "It sounds like you got better training facilities there than the school has." Peter continued, "Although, if you're up for it, I could use someone to pace me."
James smiled and said, "Absolutely."
Next James went to see how the ballroom was being set up. Casper and Gill were busy bringing in pots of greenery from the greenhouse, they would add vases of cut flowers the day of the visitation, and also make sure the flower arrangements sent by friends, employees, business associates, and others were taken care of and displayed. Gill also hugged James, and James said, "Now don't you make me cry too."
Gill smiled and said, "If you need anything Dad, I, and the rest of the Walker family are here for you."
"Thanks. That means a lot."
James noticed a couple of people from the company's Public Relations office were working to set up a slide show highlighting James Senior's life and career. He recognized one of them as the woman who was part of the team that met with Brock and him at Thanksgiving.
"So," James said, "Anything I should know about P.R. wise?"
"Several newspapers and television stations will be running stories about your father tomorrow. They seem to be focusing on his business and philanthropic legacy rather than anything personal. We also believe there will be a picture of you at the state swim meet with a couple of the stories."
"Is that a problem?"
"From a P.R. point of view, not really. The picture we think they will use is of you sitting in the stands with your face buried in your hands. I hate to sound opportunistic about it, but the grieving son, who `mans up' and wins first place at state is a pretty good P.R. narrative. However, it's a nightmare for the security people, because it will now be public where you go to school."
"Is there any mention of Brock?"
"So far, we haven't received any request for comment about his and your relationship. I guess there are no photos of you and Brock to corroborate anything beyond friendship."
James paused, then said, "You know, they will eventually get them."
"Yes, I know." Then she smiled and said, "There will be a lot of girls unhappy that two of the hottest young men in the Big Apple have taken each other off the market. Oh, and I'll frame that picture and hang it over my desk."
James gave a little smile in embarrassment.
Just then James' phone rang, it was Brock. "Hey babe," Brock said, "How's it going? Shit, I hope you didn't have that on speakerphone."
"No, I learned my lesson," James said. One evening at Christmas, James was watching a movie with his mother and aunt when Brock called from Washington D.C. where he was visiting his grandmother and her husband. James didn't realize his phone was on speaker when he answered and what Julia and Sydney heard was "Hey babe, I really need you fucking my brains out right now." To which Sydney replied, "Okay Brock, but don't you think James would be a bit upset?" James could hear Brock blushing through the phone.
"So, what's up?" James asked.
"I'm about an hour from the City."
"Great. I'm at the estate. Why don't you just come here? I need a workout to burn off some stress."
"Will do, I'll see you in a little bit," Brock said, and they ended the call.
James went up to his old room in the mansion to see if he could find one of his old suits that still fit. Fortunately, there was one black suit that fit, so he called his mother and told her he would be spending the night at the estate.
"Will Brock be there?" Julia asked.
"Yes, Mom."
"Good, I don't want you being alone."
"Thanks. I love you, Mom."
"And I love you too, James."
When Brock arrived, they went to find Peter and Gill, who were both done with their tasks.
James said, "Brock and I are going to the gym for a workout and a swim. Then we're going out to eat, do you want to join us?" Both agreed.
James was pushing himself hard on the weights and Brock had to intervene to make sure he didn't hurt himself. After the weights, it was time to hit the pool. Since it was just guys, they decided there was no need to get swimsuits wet, and they swam naked. Again, James was pushing himself hard. Peter tried to keep up, but he wasn't in the same league as James.
When they finished and headed for the showers, Peter said, "I'm hella impressed James. No one on my team, hell in my league, could come close to you. Your form is perfect. You must have a great coach."
"I did," James said softly, "my father."
"I'm sorry," Peter said.
"Don't be sorry," James said. "I needed someone to remind me that he made me the swimmer, the competitor, that I am."
After they showered, James said, "I'm in the mood for Italian. How about the rest of you, it's my treat. We're going to Trattoria 35."
"Count me in," Gill said.
Peter checked with his parents, and they were okay with him going. Of course, Brock was always in when it came to food. One of the great things about New York is its culinary diversity. As one of the world's great melting-pot cities, it is a foodie's paradise.
For James, getting away with friends for a couple of hours was what he needed. For a while, he could forget what the next two days would hold. The four talked and joked. Gill filled James in on how the farm project was progressing. He said that Shane, James' lawyer, thought the closing on the property would be in a couple of weeks. Gill told James he was already researching equipment and greenhouses. He planned to have a roadside stand at the farm, and booths at several of the farmers' markets.
Peter asked if he could bake bread and pastries to sell at the farmers' markets, Gill thought that would be a great addition and could help fill the booth when the vegetables weren't quite ready for market. Peter was thinking small and was planning to do the baking in his apartment. Then James said, "as you know there's an industrial kitchen in the mansion, and I'm sure the property next door that the estate just acquired also has a pretty decent kitchen as well. There's no reason you can't use one of them."
Peter asked, "Do you think Betty would let me use the kitchen in the mansion?"
"Yeah," James said with a chuckle, "she does kind of own that part of the mansion, but she likes you and I think she would be happy if you used it. Plus, it might help her to let go if she knows someone from the family is using it."
"Huh?" Peter said with a puzzled look.
Gill stepped in and said, "It's a long, tangled story that I'm just beginning to learn myself, but to put it simply most of the long-term staff that run and manage the Pierce Estate are either Walkers by blood or by marriage. My father won't tell me why that is. When I've asked him about it, he just says, `It's not time.' Whatever that means."
James decided it was also not time for him to say anything about the Pierce-Walker family relationship.
They finished the meal with coffee and cannolis. Then it was back to the mansion. Once at the mansion James invited Peter and Gill to watch basketball, but Gill was meeting his girlfriend, and Peter said he had homework that he'd been putting off, and now his father wasn't giving him any more slack about doing it.
James and Brock headed up to the main house. It was weird and kind of eerie to be in such a big and imposing place alone at night. When James was growing up, there was always staff on duty in the house, but now there wasn't a need for that. Fortunately, there were a few lights that were programmed to turn on to give the impression that someone was at home. James' father had also installed motion-sensing lights in the Grand Entry and hallways so there was no need to hunt for light switches.
James took Brock's hand and they went to James Senior's study. "What are we doing here?" Brock asked. James just smiled, walked over to a paneled wall and pushed on one of the panels. It slid away, a light turned on, and there was a bar well-stocked with the best liquor money could buy.
"Holy shit," Brock said, "How did you know about this?"
"Before this was my father's study, it was my grandfather's study. He showed it to me so I could get him a bottle of scotch when he ran out in the cottage."
"Didn't your father miss it?"
"Yes, but what was he going to do? Punish his son for getting his father a bottle that was paid for with family money. I was fifteen when James Sr. finally caught me red-handed with a 50-year-old bottle of Glenlivet. That's when we had a talk."
"Oh, I remember the talk," Brock said, "My parents decided to get it over with and have the sex talk, the responsible drinking talk, and the drugs talk in one evening-long session of embarrassing things parents of teenagers think they are obligated to do."
"This wasn't that kind of talk. This was the 50-year-old scotch is for celebrating mergers and acquisitions. 25-year-old scotch is for celebrating weddings and graduations. And 10-year-old scotch is what I was to give grandfather to drink with his golf buddies."
"You did have a very different growing up than I did," Brock said.
"Yeah, but he never got around to telling me what to drink when you're 18 and you have to say something at your father's funeral." James opened a lower cabinet, reached to the back, and said, "He always kept the cheap stuff he drank after a fight with Mom back here." James pulled out a bottle of Southern Comfort. "Yeah, this is what I need."
James then grabbed two glasses and they went upstairs.
The next morning, James met Peter for a swim at 7. "Where's Brock," Peter asked.
"He's not a morning person and he was feeling a bit exhausted."
"When I move up here, I'm definitely going to find someone who can exhaust me," Peter said with a wink.
James laughed, threw off his sweats, and jumped into the pool. He and Brock had decided not to get trashed the night before, so James wasn't feeling any negative effects. He was actually feeling pretty good. He felt even better when they finished the swim. There was just something exhilarating about a morning swim.
The family visitation was scheduled from two to six, so James had plenty of time. Too much time. After showering, James said goodbye to Peter and headed back to the mansion to figure out what he was going to say at the funeral. He wandered around the house trying to remember the kind of stories about him and his father people would expect to hear in a tribute. Heartwarming father and son stories of his growing up years, but try as he might, he couldn't think of any.
Eventually, James found himself in the library. The library is a large room with a massive oak conference table in the center that easily seats 20 people. Before the company located its offices in the Chrysler Building, this table was where the business of Pierce International was done. Portraits of the men who built Pierce International hung on one library wall.
The first was Angus Pierce. Angus was an immigrant with a knack for finding oil and other minerals. He'd grown up in an upper-middle-class family in Britain. However, he was the black sheep of the family, and when he graduated from Oxford with a degree in geology, his father gave him a substantial graduation gift and a ticket to the United States.
The minute he got off the boat, he headed West. Well, that's what the official Pierce history says, the truth was the first thing he did was find a bottle of gin and a girl of loose moral character. Then he went West to the Arizona Territory where he found and staked several major copper claims that still were part of the Pierce Mining Portfolio. Next, he got in on the Texas and Oklahoma oil boom and made a small fortune. He also had the good sense to cut a deal with J.D. Rockefeller to sell his leases rather than getting into a fight with Standard Oil that he couldn't win.
The next Pierce on the wall was Leland Pierce, the man who also produced the Walker line of the family. It was Leland who took the Pierce fortune and invested in manufacturing and shipping. Next, on the wall was James' grandfather, James Morgan Pierce the 1st. He got the company into the telecommunications sector. The next portrait was of James' father, James Morgan Pierce the 2nd who was an early investor in computers and information technology.
After James Pierce the 2nd, there was a blank spot where presumably James' portrait was to hang. However, James always wondered if it was somehow prophetic that there was no more space on the wall for anyone who followed him.
As he looked at the portraits, James began to figure out what he would say at the funeral. He found a legal pad and pen and committed thoughts, emotions, and memories to paper. It wasn't until Brock found him and said, "James, it's one o'clock. You need to get ready," that he put down the pen.
James quickly got ready and made it to the ballroom with 15 minutes to spare. Brock gave him the once over and adjusted his tie. Then they went in. Julia, Sydney, and Courtney were talking with Michael and Sandy, and James joined them.
Julia said, "We're discussing how we planned to receive people paying their respects. I was just saying that I don't feel it's right for me to be included as part of the family."
Then Courtney said, "I disagree and feel your mother should stand with us."
Sandy said, "Do you mind if I make a suggestion?"
"Please," Courtney said.
"We have this table with James' picture on it. What if we placed a small sofa on each side of it. Then Courtney and Sydney can be on one side, and James and Julia on the other. Plus, you will have a place to sit if you need to."
"I like that suggestion," James said, so that's what they did.
The first hour was reserved for the Walker family and estate staff, and during that time Sandy stood beside Courtney and Sydney, and Michael stood beside Julia and James. James also had Brock beside him for that part of the afternoon, because this was the hardest for James. Many of the people who were offering James their condolences were people he'd grown up knowing and, in the case of the younger ones, played with. James broke down again when Betty gave him a hug.
"I'm sorry," Betty said. "I know how much you hate to cry."
"No, I need to get all the tears out today among the family, because tomorrow I have to..." James couldn't finish his sentence, and Brock wrapped an arm around his shoulders.
There was a basket for cards and notes, and it was replaced with an empty basket before the public was allowed in. The cards from the family would be given to James to read, and the cards from the public would be given to Axella's department along with the cards that came with the flowers. The concierge staff would write polite acknowledgments for James or Courtney to sign.
James noted that the tone of the memorial changed when the doors were opened to the public. It seemed like some form of Medieval theatrics, where politicians, business partners, corporate executives, and the social elite came to show respect to the old king and pledge fealty to the new king. There were also a few rivals that came just to make sure the old king was really dead and to size up his heir.
When the estate's gates were closed and the last of the visitors gone, James finally breathed a sigh of relief. He told Brock they were going to spend the night at the apartment, he said, "I need my computer to finish up what I'm going to say tomorrow, and there are too many ghosts out here."
So, while James thanked the staff, Brock went up to James' bedroom to pack up their stuff. He was about ready to leave when he saw the partially empty bottle of Southern Comfort, and said, "We might need you."
It took James about two hours to get what he wanted to say down on paper the way he wanted to say it. He then went to find Brock. Brock was watching a basketball game in the media room and James said, I'm going to step out on the deck for some air."
James was out there about five minutes before Brock joined him with the Southern Comfort and two glasses. They didn't talk, they just drank and listened to the sounds of the city. Finally, Brock said, "We need to go in before we get too cold." Brock got James into bed and held him close to share his body heat with James.
"Thank you," James said.
"For what?"
"For being my rock. I couldn't have handled this if it weren't for knowing you were here for me."
"We are here for each other, babe. Now you need to get some sleep," Brock said kissing the back of James' neck. Brock could feel the tension in James' body release and soon he was sound asleep.
The next morning, James went down to the kitchen for a cup of coffee and found that Betty had already made breakfast.
"Betty," James said, "Thank you, but you don't have to do all of this on a day like today."
"Cooking is how I deal with stress and sadness," Betty said. "When my hands are busy, it gives my mind permission to work through things."
"I see."
"How are you doing?" Betty asked. "I know you and your father didn't always see eye to eye."
"I guess I'll make it."
"Of course you will. You have your father's iron will, and the love and support of your mom, Aunt Sydney, and most of all Brock."
"You forgot; I also have my Grandma Betty."
"That's right, and don't you forget it.
The service was being held at St. Bartholomew's Episcopal Church. St. Bart's wasn't where the Pierce family were members, although Sydney was involved in its music and drama programs. However, it was large, welcoming, and close to the Pierce International offices.
When James and the rest of the family arrived, Axella and Sandy were there to meet them and explain the protocols. Courtney, Sydney, and James would sit in the pew on the front left. Julia, Betty, Brock, and his parents would sit behind them, and then the Walker family and Estate Staff.
On the right side would be a few VIPs, the Pierce International Board of Directors and executives, and then P.I. employees. The rest of the space would be available for friends, business associates, and others. The service was closed to the press; however, the Pierce PR department would provide photos and other information to the media.
James couldn't help but think about how the British royals' and Presidents' funerals were public rituals as much as family rites. It struck him as odd that a businessman's funeral would attract such attention, but then he looked at the people in attendance, and it suddenly hit him just how many jobs, products, services, charities, and of course, political careers were touched by and dependent on Pierce International. So, in a way, it made sense that James Pierce the 2nd's funeral was of public interest. That was a very sobering thought to James.
The service started like most protestant funeral services: music, prayers, a few words of comfort, and the reading of the obituary. Then it was James' turn to speak.
"I am James Morgan Pierce the 3rd, and James Morgan Pierce the 2nd was my father... but he was not my dad."
There were a few gasps and some murmuring when he said that.
"I don't have cute or funny stories to tell about my dad taking me camping, playing catch in the backyard, or going on family vacations. I don't have those stories because an insidious, undiagnosed tumor stole my dad from me. It stole his joy and tenderness and replaced it with coldness and demands. To which I responded with bitterness and rebellion.
"No doubt, many will say `Stop whining kid; you've got it pretty good. Look at the wealth and opportunities that your father gave you.' And they are right, my father gave me a lot. Materially my father gave me the world. However, when you're 13 and being dropped off at boarding school that's hard to believe.
"As I thought about what I would say today, I wondered if my father gave me anything that couldn't be put on a spreadsheet, that couldn't be measured in dollars and cents, and I think he did.
"Some of you may have heard that a couple of days ago, I did pretty well in the Massachusetts High School Swimming Championships, and someone later said `you must have a good coach.' I responded: I did, my father. My father was a college swimmer and a national champion. He taught me to swim, and swimming was something we shared even when we weren't always speaking to each other. We were very competitive with each other, and when I finally beat him, it wasn't because he let me, it was because he made me the swimmer I am. I was told this morning that I got my iron will, some would say obstinance, from my father. What I do know is he taught me the difference between luck and success. Being born a brat with a silver spoon in his mouth is luck, putting in the work to become a competitive swimmer, or doing the research to make a good investment, is what leads to success."
"The second thing I got from my father is a sense of legacy. For years I tried to hide who I was. At school, I was James Spangler, not James Pierce. I didn't want the Pierce legacy; however, my father knew I couldn't escape it. I was reminded of that earlier this week when I was in the library of the Pierce Estate. On the wall hang portraits of my great-great-grandfather, my great-grandfather, my grandfather, and my father. There is also a blank spot for some lucky bastard born with a silver spoon in his mouth."
There was some chuckling.
"However, James Pierce the 2nd once said to me, `No one cares who hangs in that spot. What they care about is what the person hanging in that spot did with the Pierce legacy.' If my portrait does hang in that spot someday it's because I learned from my father that legacy is making the world better than you found it, taking care of your people, honoring your word, paying your debts, and improving your community. Oh, I also think there was something about turning a profit."
Now there was laughter.
"The third thing I learned from my father is that it's never too late. After my father found out that he had the tumor and that the odds were not in his favor, he didn't give up. The medication that he was getting in preparation for surgery also helped to return him to his real self. He found love again and married Courtney. He made amends with my mother and his sister. And for an all too brief time, he was my Dad. We talked and laughed together. He said he loved me and was proud of the man I was becoming. I had a chance to say I was sorry for being a brat and that I loved him. While our time as Dad and Son was too short, and there were so many things we still wanted and needed to say, those few days together, those nightly phone calls, and those short texts are the most precious things my Father, my Dad, gave me.
"A couple of days ago, I learned that James Morgan Pierce the 2nd left money for the creation of a foundation. He didn't say what the mission of the foundation was to be, he left that to me. His only stipulation was that it would not bear his name. I have decided that the mission of the foundation will be `To promote and support men becoming the Dads their sons and daughters want, need, and deserve.' I have decided to call it The My Dad Foundation.
James looked up and said, "Sorry Dad, I still had to name it after you."
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