CHAPTER 3: ECHOES
Grace never really saw much of Andrew Richards except from afar – sometimes hearing about him via her mother reading aloud the society sections of the Evening
Bulletin or seeing a glimpse of him from across the room at some mutual connection's party or event. She kept a wary eye out for him, wanting to avoid their paths
crossing at all. She had no feelings for him other than dreading ever seeing him. Every random encounter was worse than the last. She was numb to him, she just
had nothing for him.
Several years after the New Year's Eve incident with him, she was attending a fundraising Gala in New York for the Republican Party with her father, John Farrell and
her father's business partner, William Gayle. It was formal dress, and Grace did not disappoint. She looked beautiful and very elegant in a luxurious royal blue evening
gown with her hair in a sweeping and flattering up-do. Her own inside 'joke' known only to herself was that she insisted on having a blue dress, as she was a
Democrat – who would not reveal her politics to another soul – in a room full of Republicans. She was sure her parents were Republicans also, but it was never spoken
about. There were no political discussions at their family functions.
Grace's mother had gone shopping with her weeks earlier at Bonwit Teller in Center City, Philadelphia. She was dressed in the height of fashion for young women in
the late 1920s. Everything about her was elegant and conveyed her upbringing. She was very refined, charming and intelligent. She had a voracious appetite for
learning more and more, and was fascinated with math – specifically, statistics and algebra. She also loved art, theater and dance. She was an incredible dancer
herself, having taken lessons in ballet, but also learning every new dance step that came about during her teen and college years. She was what people called "light
on her feet". She was funny, but kept her dry wit for people who knew her best – usually her family. She was also guarded and could be shy. Grace also knew that her
father brought her along to these kinds of events, not only because he was proud of her and wanted to show off his daughter, but because he really wanted to make
sure she had connections. This was something he had always told her. "Make connections and make sure our customers know your abilities." There would certainly
come a day when the business fell to Grace to run, his son John was in medical school to become a doctor, and there was no way he would be interested in the family
trucking business. He wanted to make sure that everyone he dealt with got to know her, and that they knew she was more than competent, not just a pretty face.
Mr. Gayle, her father's business partner walked toward them with a tall man in an expensive tuxedo who was completely bald, smoking a cigar and nursing a cognac.
The two men were laughing at something together as they approached. Mr. Gayle quickly shifted his attention to his business partner and Grace. "Mr. Warbucks, I
would like you to meet John Farrell. John and I have been in our transport business together for over 27 years. Farrell, meet Oliver Warbucks." The men shook hands,
John Farrell said: "It is a distinct pleasure to finally meet you, Warbucks, Bill has told me a lot about you." Mr. Gayle continued: "and Oliver, this is John's lovely
daughter, Grace." Grace found herself looking at the smiling and handsome face of Oliver Warbucks. She smiled back at him because they both realized that they had
actually already met. Sort of. He had held a door for her as she was walking back from the lounge area, their eyes had met as they had shared polite exchanges.
"Thank you." "Certainly."
Warbucks looked at her, still smiling, and said: "I am enchanted, Miss Farrell. It is nice to know your name. Grace. …. Very pretty." She smiled at him, taking in his
presence. "Thank you, it is so nice to meet you." She said back. He was large, bold, not shy, so well dressed, – she picked up the scent of his aftershave when he
leaned in to ask her: "Miss Farrell, do you enjoy the chaos of politics, or have these men dragged you here to improve their image?" Warbucks chuckled, and he was
struck by her beauty. Her answer was one he had not expected, but certainly the one he asked for: "Actually, Mr. Warbucks, I am managing my father's and Mr.
Gayle's trucking business. I went to college and got a math and business degree so my dad could play more golf. I am trying to keep them out of as much trouble as I
can." She laughed, and Warbucks laughed. He thought: "She has a sense of humor and a spine."
He thought: "She RUNS their trucking business?" He was struck by how smart and confident she was. Wow. He looked at her – struck by how pretty she was, and on
top of that, smart and not afraid to work. She was also – so – SO – he couldn't find the word right away, but there was something about her demeanor that he was
picking up. It hit him. She had a sadness about her, or, a wariness, just under the surface. She was guarded. He wondered what cynical bastard had made her wise to
the world. He thought to himself: "She is so young and so poised and polished for her age. How old is she anyway? What, 26 or 27 tops? She was not 30 yet, he
thought. Ahh. What does it matter? I'm too old anyway. I'll be 40 in a few months. My God she is lovely…." He was lost in thought, staring at Grace.
"Oliver."
"Oliver."
He was roused from his inner thoughts and looked to the source of the disturbance. It was Mr. Gayle, who was looking at him with his expression as a question mark.
Warbucks said:
"Yes, I'm sorry. I was lost in thought."
Mr. Gayle smiled at him and said: "She has a degree, you know, actually two."
"Who has a degree?"
"Miss Farrell, er, Grace, she has a degree in mathematics and business administration. She is our bookkeeper, accountant, office manager, and basically runs
everything. Our numbers have been excellent since she came in and straightened out the office. When she was in college our manager left. We never replaced him.
John and I were running everything, scrambling for supplies, drivers and trucks – let alone customers. It is a miracle we were able to keep the doors open." Mr. Gayle
sighed, and continued, "Those were some shaky times, I can tell you. Grace came back from school and re-vamped the entire system – from our vendors, to drivers
to the suppliers of our tires and truck parts. She hired the right people and trained them right, too. If we had customers who had not yet paid us, she collected and
got results." Warbucks, nodded at this, taking it all in. He asked: "How many people are employed with your trucking business?" cocking his head at Mr. Gayle.
Gayle answered: "We have about 75 presently, but we are looking to hire at least 15 more drivers by year end. First, we have to get the trucks, and then we have to
man them. Grace has grown the business that much that we are actually expanding. Not just our employee base, but other regional centers and customer bases. This
has been a heck of a year. A heck of a year during a Great Depression. Figure that out."
Warbucks asked: "You attribute all that success to Miss Farrell's management?"
Gayle answered laughingly: "Well, yes, I think so – especially with how she wrangled delinquent accounts. She had our balance sheets mostly black with the exception
of a few outliers who just would not or could not pay. Anyone like that she wrote off and terminated their service." He laughed about this. "You would not believe how
quickly a delinquent account wants to work with us when our truck doesn't show, and their stock is going bad. Grace demanded respect – she got it not only for
herself, but for us. We had let a lot of things go because we just didn't know, and now, well, we are humming along. No company runs on just one person, but just
one person can make a huge impact, and for us that person is Grace Farrell."
Suddenly laughing aloud to Oliver, Mr. Gayle continued: "Oh, and you've never seen a shop full of whining men complaining about a new loading dock parking
procedure shut their mouths faster than when they see a truck backed perfectly into the dock space, first try, and out of the cab climbs down Grace, flawlessly. She
learned to drive every truck in our fleet, knows everything there is to know about a commercial vehicle, and she knows how to politely and firmly handle a bunch of
truckers. She has a commercial drivers license, too." He laughed. Warbucks stared at him and asked: "You mean to tell me that she can drive the trucks in your fleet?
She handles one of those big beasts?" His mouth was open in wonder.
"Oh, yes, Oliver. John made sure she learned to drive, to handle a clutch, to change a tire. Grace looks like a whisp, but she is more than capable. She knows how
things work. It is just natural for her, and, John" – he nodded his attention toward John Farrell – "never excluded her from any of the ordinary shop skills he would
have offered a man. The men in our shop adore her and treat her like the boss she is."
Warbucks smiled at Mr. Gayle, uttered a slight "Hmmm", and turned his attention to Grace. She was standing nearby, accepting a glass of champagne from a waiter
and laughing with her father about something with another partygoer. He thought to himself as he looked at her in her blue evening gown: "Well, she is certainly full
of surprises. My God…."
The revelations about Grace Farrell made Oliver Warbucks' ears burn with attention. He was impressed with her education in math alone, but to find that she had
business acumen – he was pleasantly surprised. He knew it was rare enough for women to not only be able to go to college, but to actually be able to use her degree
and wield her talent successfully in a real, working business. Mr. Gayle really shed light on a lot in a few short sentences. He gazed at her over the rim of his cognac
glass. He would have to let her be, he thought. "She is too pretty, too smart. She is too good for salty me. Also, I am old. Too old for her. What would she ever want
in an old, bald goat like me?..." He was off in his own thoughts again.
"Oliver."
"Oliver, you really must try to stay present in a conversation" Mr. Gayle laughed. Warbucks laughed and apologized once more for his absence of mind. He cited being
distracted by the stock market, but he was saying it as he was staring at Grace Farrell.
Oliver soon saw another man saunter up to Grace and John Farrell. He lightly made a punching gesture with one hand, a drink sloppily held in the other. He appeared
to be making a joke. He was smiling. John Farrell was not, and Grace's whole demeanor and expression had changed. She was no longer smiling and looked
uncomfortable with this obviously drunk man who was engaging with them. Mr. Gayle exchanged a look with Oliver and said "Excuse me, Oliver, please. This guy is a
character. I have to intervene."
Warbucks asked: "Who is he?"
Mr. Gayle answered as he walked toward Grace and John: "Grace's ex from college ...a boy she dated...a sore loser.."
Gayle continued walking toward Grace and John and said, in a friendly way: "Hello, Andrew! So nice of you to drop by. You should probably be getting back to your
party now, then." Andrew would not even look at Grace. He said to the air around him, loudly: "What some people are missing is only the best man in the room! She
coulda had ME!"Its a free country, I can go and do whatever I want! Try and stop me!" he said with his volume increasing, his words slurring. John Farrell and
William Gayle soon got in Andrew's path, imploring him to leave them alone and go back to his own party. Andrew was swaying, he took another pull from his drink.
Grace said nothing at all, keeping a neutral expression as she looked at him. She was unafraid. Andrew turned on his heel and started to walk away. He suddenly
backed up, staggering a bit, without turning around, getting as close to where Grace was standing as he could and said under his breath: "Bitch.". By this time, Oliver
had come up to stand next to Grace but slightly in front of her, offering her a block.
He heard what Andrew had said, and shot him a look to kill, saying quite audibly: "Coward."
Andrew stopped in his tracks and spun around to face Oliver.
Andrew said: "What are you looking at, baldy?" Andrew stood for a moment, swaying, hitting his drink in gulps. Warbucks stepped forward and said matter-of-factly:
"Young man, If you do not turn your drunken self around and go back to your party, I will literally pick you up and carry you there myself. Do not test me." Oliver did
not drop his gaze. Andrew considered their size difference, and in the history of all drunk people, Andrew made the correct choice in not testing Oliver Warbucks – a
consummate sailor, and world traveler, a daily walker and swimmer, 6 feet 3 inches tall, and 240 pounds, not to mention a good head taller than Andrew. Oliver would
clean the floor with him and not even spill a drop of his cognac. It never came to that. Grace watched all of this unfold from where she was standing, mouth open -
marveling at this big, bald, gloriously handsome man and his unabashed and unapologetic ….absolute…..balls. She believed that he would have easily picked Andrew
up and carried him calmly to his table. He showed reserve, but he meant business. She looked at him from head to toe. He was exquisite. She watched as Andrew
thought better of the situation and decided to walk away. No, slink away. Andrew turned around, staggering, and sucked his teeth, heading directly to the nearest
open bar. John and Mr. Gayle kept him in their sights across the big room.
Oliver watched him, too. He stood next to Grace now and said quietly to her:
"You really dodged a bullet with that fellow. I'm sorry. I hope I didn't overstep."
"No, you didn't He is always a source of embarrassment. We broke up over five years ago. I do not respond to him because I do not want to feed the monster. He is a
vicious drunk. I am not even sure why he was here…he is a Main Line boy….New York will eat him alive.." She sighed and said: "Good riddance to bad rubbish."
Oliver smiled at this turn of phrase and looked at her. It was one he had not heard in many years, but a phrase he heard in his youth in Liverpool, England. He
thought "How in the world does she know that phrase?" Oliver said to her: "I am truly sorry that you have to deal with that. That isn't right." He meant it. He knew
what women could be put through at the hands of an abusive man. He had seen it time and time again, and it made him angry. Especially knowing that she had to
deal with it. For the rest of the evening, Oliver kept his eyes on Andrew Richards, planning to intervene if he picked up a hint of harrassment toward Grace.
She still had no clear idea of exactly who he was, but, she liked him. She smiled back at him and said: "Well, Mr. Warbucks, I think this has been an enlightening
evening so far. I look forward to seeing you again. I really must find my father and then our table. Thank you for being so kind." She put out her hand to shake with
his. He took it and kissed the back of her hand.
"It was lovely to meet you, Miss Farrell. Have a lovely evening." He was beaming at her as she walked away. She looked back over her shoulder at him and found him
looking at her. They both smiled.
That was two years ago.