Benjamin Harvey's office was a tribute to hardwood and hard work; a fortress for strategic planning professionally appointed with sturdy oak furnishings and masculine decor. Seated in front of Benjamin were two other decision makers attired in Joseph A. Bank's best. Bathed in the flat gray light of an overcast February morning, the three men studied the same numbers on separate reports, each seeing numerically uncertain futures for a company of more than a thousand employees.
Tony lifted his glasses away from his face. “Are these all the numbers, Ben?”
“Hot off the presses this morning. It's everything.”
“How the hell can the government squeeze companies like this and expect them to grow? This is going to kill the economy not grow it - and I voted for the guy” Matt shook his head. “Sorry guys. Didn't see this coming.”
Ben and Tony exchanged a knowing glance. Their communication had been perfected over two decades of working together.
Loud words exchanged in the hall way just outside. The door burst open and in walked a young brunette in a damp coat and pleated pants. She stomped between the two men, her eyes fixed on the remaining man in the leather chair. She paused to allow the rest of her fury to catch up to her new point of engagement in front of Benjamin's desk.
“What cold bastard would promise funding then not come through?”
Ben looked away from the demanding emerald eyes of the hurricane before him to his associates on either side of the storm. “Gentlemen, this was going to be a short meeting anyway. Let's pick this up later since it appears I have unfinished business with my daughter.”
Kendall's words cut through the falling flakes of winter as she and her father walked to a snow covered Hyundai Equus. Benjamin didn't hear words; it was more like voices. First of a giggling toddler with bouncing curls. Then of a girl who wanted a bike just like Jenny's. A senior leaving high school with the turn of a tassel. Now a determined college graduate singularly focused on righting all injustice in the world before her thirtieth birthday.
Ben kept his anger at bay while the car warmed. Kendall stopped talking and moved a stray hair out her eye.
“Thank you for that warm greeting, by the way. Learn that in a Women's Studies? How to greet your father after disappearing for a few months.”
“You know me. 'Cut to the chase Kendall'”
“Always good at that. Have you had lunch already?” he asked.
“Not hungry.”
Ben backed the car out and aimed for the icy streets leading west.
“For the record, I didn't promise to fund your cause, Kendall. I promised to look into it.”
“That's not what you said on the phone.”
“That's exactly what I said on the phone, and in the email I sent you.”
“What's it going to take to get you to part with a little of your fortune to help those less fortunate? What else do you need to know about Living Connections before you'll be convinced it's a worthy cause?”
Less fortunate. The President and CEO of Harvey Global smiled at the words. He'd been solicited to help the "less fortunate" in person, over the phone, by fax, or by email nearly every day for twenty-one of the past twenty-two years. "Less fortunate", the aging entrepreneur came to realize, had a very broad and often unclear definition in the real world.
“Honey, I looked into Living Connections. It all appears good on the outside, but I want to keep checking. I'm not thrilled about a certain senator from Nevada being so closely tied to it.”
“You and your politics,” Kendall said resting her arm on car door. “Everything's political with you. Was for mom too.”
“And not by choice I can guarantee that. We just want to live our lives. Take care of our families. Earn a decent buck. But everyday that gets harder to do.”
Ben brought the car to a gentle stop in front of Capp's Deli & Bakery, and turned to his still steaming daughter. “You know that little meeting in my office you just broke up? We weren't plotting to rape and pillage the land, build strip malls, and sip margaritas into the sunset, Kendall. We're trying to keep as many people employed as possible.”
Kendall rolled her eyes. “You have millions, Dad. Why don't you give yourself a pay cut and spread it around. That would probably keep everyone employed. Problem solved.”
"What makes you think I haven't already done that?" Ben let out a sigh and rested his hands on the bottom of the steering wheel. “Do you remember how many recitals and school events of yours I missed?”
“Yeah. A lot of them.”
“Remember our first house?”
“A mobile home. So?”
“How we shopped at that thrift store till we could afford nicer clothes?”
Kendall nodded.
“We sacrificed a lot back then to have a better life now, Kendall. If there wasn't a decent reward at the end of those sacrifices, I wouldn't have done it. We didn't take from others, we didn't steal, we didn't beg. We worked long, hard hours not everyone was willing to work. I made sure others got their checks before I did. Hundreds of families would be "less fortunate" all over the world if it weren't for Harvey Global. And a certain young lady I know went to the college of her choice at no personal expense to herself. And look, only a year after graduating, she has the privilege of bad mouthing how it happened. I guess that's part of today's curriculum.”
Between wiper blades pushing white snow, they watched a man in a red apron approach Benjamin rolled down his window for the the deli owner. He wore a large grin under a thick black mustache. “Hello Mr. Harvey, we're boxing everything up now. And I just got these out of the oven. Tell me these aren't the best oatmeal chocolate chip cookies you've ever had.”
Ben took the bag and offered a warm cookie to Kendall, then to himself. Ben chewed is way through the sugary layers and smiled.
“You still know how to make them, Daniel.”
“That's right. The best! Let me get your order out here.”
Ben rolled up the window and finished his cookie. A moment later, three bakery workers formed a red apron convoy and loaded box after into the trunk and back seats. The aroma of sandwiches on fresh baked bread filled the car.
“What's all this?” Kendall asked.
“Just dropping lunch off.”
“Perks you can write off. Must be nice,” she said with a smirk.
“Yeah. Something like that.”
They traveled north from the deli on 9th. The thinning clouds overhead parted enough to let sunlight fall to the streets. At the next red light, a man in an electric wheel chair, bundled tightly against the cold, made his way across the intersection in front of them. Kendall followed the man with bitter eyes. He looked both ways before crossing the next section of wet asphalt. The faint sounds of the radio were the only voices heard in the car.
Ben looked over to Kendall before accelerating. “Do you ever hear from Ashley?”
She shook her head. “No. We kind of lost touch.” She looked out to the passing storefronts. “I still can't believe they got away with it. The rich always get away with murder. Pelican Industries almost killed her with their overloaded trucks. No fines, no one went to jail, but my best friend will never walk again. Ashley's in a wheelchair and Pelican is making record profits, and no one cares.”
“Hold on, Kendall. That's an awfully broad brush you're painting with. I'm not defending Pelican. What happened to Ashley was absolutely wrong, but “the rich” didn't do that. Slimy, selfish people and a broken system did. And here's a new flash: selfish people aren't determined by bank accounts. It's a heart condition.”
They drove a mile and half passed the outskirts of town and turned right onto a snow packed road.
“Speaking of hearts,” Ben said in a softer voice, “Do you have any plans for Valentine's Day? Maybe we could have a nice dinner together. It's been quite a while since I've seen my girl.”
“I was planning to be in Haiti with Living Connections, but there's a little problem with funding. That's what I had my heart set on if you really want to know. They could really use the help.”
Ben listened and nodded as he slowed the car leading up to a large gate. He lowered his window and pressed the button on the stainless steel intercom system. After a short electronic buzz, a woman's voice sounded through the speaker.
“Hello, how may we help you?”
“Ben Harvey here with a delivery.”
“Hello Mr. Harvey. We'll be waiting for you at the door.”
Beyond the tall trees heavy with melting snow, lay a sprawling three-story white house with welcoming dormers and tall brick chimney. Hundreds of footprints peppered the snow leading up to a leaning snowman with rocks for eyes and a stalk of celery for a nose.
“What's this place,” Kendall asked moving her head to see more of the spacious property.
“I suppose to you it's just another write off for the rich.”
“Probably,” she said with a faint smile.
Ben parked under a covered area behind the house.
“So basically, if I hand you a check today, I won't be such a cold-hearted bastard? Cats and dogs will live together in harmony, and everything will suddenly be right in the world?
Kendall's eyes fell to her hands resting on her lap. She nodded and said, “Not everything in the world, but some of it. Not sure about cats and dogs.”
Ben reached over and touched her hands. Kendall squeezed back in return. A wave of affection washed away the anger in her eyes. If only for a moment she was his baby girl again. The little angel who loved to make pancakes from scratch in the morning and fly kites by the ocean.
“Let me take care of this and I'll see what we can do.”
“Thanks, Dad. This is huge! I'll call the team to let them know, okay? I couldn't get through before but maybe now. They'll want to know as soon as possible.”
Benjamin nodded and got out of the car. Kendall dialed numbers on her phone while her father carried a box of sandwiches into the building. A moment later, two grandmotherly ladies and several children followed Ben out through the French doors leading to the kitchen area.
Kendall watched bewildered at the scene of children hugging her father all beaming with smiles. The ringing in her ear gave way to the sound of a voice recording as the last box was removed from the car. She left another voice message and hung up.
“What is this place,” she asked herself aloud.
As Kendall looked around for signage that would answer her question, the soft sounds of the radio, just above the purr of the idling engine, caught her attention...
“...and another scandal rocks the business world. Top executives from Pelican Industries are facing charges of money laundering and fraud in addition to heavy penalties for failing vehicle safety inspections. Officials claim Pelican is using charitable relief organizations as fronts to launder millions, while donations collected for devastated areas like Haiti, don't seem to be making it to Haiti. Pelican Industries overseas charities such as Help Now and Living Connections. As of this broadcast, Pelican has declined to comment and hasn't returned our requests for interviews. We'll keep you posted. And have you had enough of this snow? We'll see if mother nature is done or just getting started right after this...
Kendall sat forward, dumbfounded. Nauseous. She pressed her fingers to her temple and watched her father through the kitchen window. He looked out to her and held up one finger indicating his soon return to the car.
Money laundering... Ashley's mangled body... Haiti... Pelican... Living Connections... Fraud. The words hit her heart like a hammer. Each word pounding harder than the last.
The muffled sounds of another vehicle behind the car derailed her train of thought. A white van pulled up along side and stopped. Kendall watched a man in a thick coat with a pleasant smile get out. He waved to her and continued walking toward the house.
Kendall lowered the window. “Excuse me, sir. Can you tell me what this place is?”
The man stopped. “Sure I can." He pointed the side of the van. “Home On The Hill. It's an orphanage. One of three orphanages, actually. The smallest of the three. They're all run by Harvey House.” The man looked over the black luxury sedan. “This looks like Ben Harvey's car. I figured you were family.”
Kendall smiled. “I guess I've been a way too long. Thanks for the information.”
She maintained her smile as the window went back up. The man stomped the snow off his shoes and went inside the house. The orphanage. The smallest of three.
Ben opened his door and slipped behind the wheel. “Thanks for letting me take care of this,” he said while backing out the car. “We can go back to the office and I'll get you a check.”
Kendall read the words on the side of the white van, then looked back to her father. He waved to two children standing at the doors. The same wave she saw when she was their age.
“Um...,” Kendall ran her fingers through her shoulder length hair searching for the words. “There's been a slight change of plans.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah. About Valentine's Day... I like your dinner idea. We have some catching up to do.”