The Multi-Millionaire Mother Arrives
Jeff recovered from his shock at seeing Caleb taking a seat on the President's lap quickly, and made his way swiftly forward to remove him, saying, "I am so sorry, sir. He doesn't normally jump up on people's laps without permission like that. He normally knows that he has to be asked before he does it."
"Don't worry, it is perfectly okay," replied the President with a smile. "We had cats at home when I was a boy, and to be honest, in my opinion, there is nothing more comforting than the presence of one in your lap; it shows trust on their part as they are confident that you will not just throw them off. The fact that he has chosen to sit in my lap is to me better than any poll on approval ratings. In fact, I think that you should include him in your drawing. So many of my predecessors in this role have been portrayed in portraits alongside guns, or sheaves of documents, or of course, dogs. I think that Caleb will have the distinction of being the first cat to appear, so see it as an honour. Let's leave the book out of the drawing, and settle for me relaxing in a chair with a cat on my lap, and the photo on the side table. Relaxed and calm, not warlike and temperamental. That is how I would like history to remember me."
"Well, I guess, if you are absolutely certain," replied Jeff. "However, given what I know of the additional subjects habits, I will start the drawing in the lower half, so he doesn't leap off your lap halfway through and spoil things…" The President nodded, then settled into a pose that he could hold comfortably for some time. Jeff began by taking a series of photos on his phone for reference, then began to draw in earnest the outline of what was going to be a rather unusual piece of work…
As his husband drew, Nick and his son were busy exploring the woodland around the Presidential retreat. The woods were a source of fascination for Wes; they were completely different to the only other woods that he had ever come into regular contact with, namely the Rambles in Central Park. He was unusually quiet as they walked, as if he was aware that his normal chatter would disturb the large number of small creatures that lived around him. The First Lady had a keen eye for nature, and pointed out the various birds that were sitting in the trees, not to mention the squirrels. They were of course far less used to humans here than those in Central Park, and the ones that occasionally strayed into their own garden in the West Village. It was the peace that made Nick smile and relax; there was not even a faint roar of traffic to be heard, the landscape features muffling the noise from the nearest roads.
The First Lady had arranged for them to have a picnic lunch on the shore of a small lake, the waters of which were almost glasslike on a calm sunny day, and thus they reflected the trees and hills around it. At lunch, Wes did start to ask questions, and the two adults did their best to answer them for him. His question as to whether there might be a monster in the lake earned him a look of surprise from the First Lady, until Nick explained that they had visited Loch Ness whilst in Scotland a few months ago.
"Well, I don't think that there is," she answered. "Then again, no-one has ever checked, so there could be. The thing with the natural world is that we still don't know about so many things; there are always new creatures that need to be named. Of course, it is very rare for them to discover a new monster…"
"My papa is called the Cookie Monster sometimes, but then he is only one because daddy makes so many wonderful cookies and cakes," answered Wes in all innocence.
The First Lady laughed then as Nick blushed at his son's candour, then said, "Mr Nixon does tell us the same thing about your dad's baking skills; maybe we should head back now and see if he would bake us all something for later?"
"Oh yes, please, daddy! Cramique, or Red Velvet cake, and some cookies for papa of course," Wes replied excitedly.
"My son loves cramique almost as much as his papa likes cookies," said Nick sagely. "I suppose that we could bake something, as long as it is okay with your kitchen staff. Of course, to bake all of that I would require the assistance of my young sous chef." As Wes nodded, and began to tidy up around him so they could hurry back, the First Lady smiled at the clear bond between a father and son…
Lunch had been taken up to the artist's session by then too; once all three of those in the room had eaten their fill, two of them returned to the task in hand, although as Jeff had surmised, Caleb now eschewed the President's lap for the sofa. He had already managed to complete that part of his drawing though, and so he could concentrate that afternoon on the upper body and face of one of the most powerful people in the world. In the end, it was just after 5pm when Jeff declared that he was satisfied with his initial pencil sketch, still monochrome and awaiting the colour that would bring it to life. His timing could not have been better; as they descended the stairs it was to discover that afternoon tea was just being served, the cakes still warm from the oven, and small traces of flour still on the face of the little assistant chef as he tucked into his cramique…
The evening was spent quietly; once Wes was in bed, the President invited Nick to join him in the study so that he could pose all of the questions he had about the UN and its current human rights work. That left Jeff to chat to the First Lady about his favourite subject - art. It turned out that she had a keen interest in the topic herself, and more than a little knowledge of the subject. She ended up envying him for the time that he had spent in the galleries of Florence. "We have been to Paris and London, and the works that they have there are some of the greatest in the world, but the Italian galleries must be marvellous, not only for the artworks themselves but also the buildings that they are located in. So much was founded in that country back in the day that is now crucial to the civilised world that we ourselves enjoy."
"It was one of the most special and enjoyable times of my life, that much I will freely admit, but I am also blessed in the fact that I have a husband that does not mind waiting for me whilst I study a piece. He has begun to appreciate art far more than he used to now; he has a special fondness for the seascapes of Turner, and he is also fond of the style of the Art Deco and Art Nouveau periods. We have a Rennie Mackintosh inspired dining set at home that Nick fell in love with. I must be honest and say that I was not particular fond of it at first, but now I can appreciate the practicalities of the design."
"I have a feeling that at some point in the future, there will be much written about the works that you produce too; not just The Judging Angel and The Happy Couple, but your cityscapes and the million portraits you will go on to produce; well, maybe not a million, but hundreds certainly. I was lucky enough to be able to get to New York and see your Modern Families show, and it was marvellous. You seem to have been born and attended Dalton Academy at the best possible time; you have so many talented friends in their fields, from the arts like Mr Smythe, to politics, like the ever reliable Trent."
"It does surprise me too sometimes just how many of us there are," replied Jeff with a smile. "What doesn't surprise me is just how much we have stayed bonded together as a group. We have been through more than our fair share of tragedy and trauma to be honest for our age. We are bruised, battered and scarred, but we get up and carry on. There is nothing else that we can do. It makes us all the more determined to ensure that the generations that follow us do not have to endure the same thing." The First Lady nodded, keenly aware of what Jeff was talking about from a number of candid chats with Trent over the years. To her it was remarkable that they were all doing as well as they were, given the full extent of what had gone on.
The next morning saw Jeff drawing the President again after breakfast, this time making detailed sketches, close ups of his face and hands to capture the smallest of features so his portrait was as accurate as possible. As always, he was striving for perfection, keenly aware that some in the art establishment would be only too ready to criticise his work because it was a drawing, or because of its informal composition. After all, it was going to be displayed in the most formal of locations…
With Wes occupied with books and games, that left Nick to chat with the First Lady in peace. He found himself talking to her about the aid agencies that operated under the auspices of the UN; he had anticipated that she might ask about that work, and so he had contacted those in New York that dealt with those matters last week for a summary of their current works, and they had obliged, knowing where he was going. He was therefore able to answer her questions with a high degree of accuracy. The topic then moved on to other issues in which the First Lady took a personal interest, before she asked Nick what areas concerned him in the nation today. He looked pensive for a moment, then replied.
"In my world, there are two major issues that concern me, subjects on which we need more understanding and work to be done. Firstly, we need to deal with the simple fact that there is much less acceptance of the possibility that men can be victims of domestic abuse than women. I know someone that was regularly punched and beaten by his wife, and although all the signs were there, no-one did anything because he was a man. Had a woman regularly appeared in public with minor injuries, bumps and bruises, it would have been noted, and interventions made. In his case, the world just accepted his wife's explanation that he was clumsy, a bit of a klutz. In my opinion, we need to address that right away, and change society's perception on the issue," said Nick firmly.
"I agree. There needs to be less presumption, and less stigma on a man that stands up and says he is being assaulted, and seeks help," replied Mrs Kennedy.
"And then there is the issue of MND. We have a younger friend, a former Warbler, who just happens to share your surname, incidentally, and he has been stricken with that debilitating and eventually terminal condition. He is lucky in so many ways; he is getting all of his treatment costs covered for free, but only because he agreed to be a test study for medical students. He doesn't know that we have, as a group, been quietly helping pick up his other bills and costs. Had we not been there, then he would not have been able to afford the treatment that he has to have; he would be suffering in pain."
"Surely his parents are assisting with the costs too?"
"Decent parents would, but his disowned him at birth because he was conceived out of wedlock; he was left in the care of his grandmother, but once she passed, all further assistance stopped. He was sent to Dalton as a permanent boarder, there through the vacations as well as semester times. He spent those holidays with the then Principal and his wife, or with friends. I can only imagine how lonely his Christmas holidays must have been, without family to care for him… Now he is dying, and the plain fact is that without us, and good fortune, he would not be getting any treatment. The health care reforms need to come, and need to come as quickly as possible, not for him, but for the countless others that are suffering alone."
Mrs Kennedy nodded, again, and said, "We are getting there; we are up against vested interests and politicians that put themselves above others. However, we will get there, if my husband has anything to do with it. The task will not be easy, but we will build a world leading health care system, one that will not exclude anyone, or any condition; a system were nobody is left out to suffer…"
Nick and the First Lady continued their conversation for the rest of the morning, and into the afternoon, as lunch that day was delayed; Jeff needed to finish his detailed sketches, and there seemed no point in stopping to return to the task for an hour at most. By the time he had finished he had captured in detail every inch of the man that was amongst the most powerful in the world, as well as one of the youngest to have ever held that position. His work had to carry on, and he and his wife would be returning to Washington and the White House not long after the car was scheduled to arrive to take their guests back to Baltimore for their train home to New York. It had been an fruitful couple of days, with Jeff now having all he needed to perfect his drawing, and the President all the information he wished from Nick on the works of the UN. Little Wes had a much greater appreciation for, and understanding of, the natural world, having seen it close up for the first time.
As for Caleb, he had found out that travel could be fun, particularly when the food that was provided was of a high standard. He had also enjoyed the attention from the two new humans, and would be more than happy to see either of them again. However, he did feel that he had been constrained a little in what he could enjoy; after all, there had been so many tempting smells coming from the other side of the door that was constantly closed to him, and he had been forced to leave them unexplored. The view from the window had been very interesting too, his primal instinct on seeing the trees outside being that he needed to get out there and climb them, even though he had to admit that he could see no way as to how he would get down from them afterwards. Nonetheless, when the time came, he was not in the least bit unwilling to climb into his carrier, although that happened in the hall, after he had been taken down the stairs in the blond's arms and given a final petting by the two new humans. Once in his box, he settled down quickly, and decided that a nap was in order…
Caleb would end up sleeping for the entire trip home, not waking again until his carrier was set down by his bed in the kitchen, adjacent to the radiator that ensured he was kept warm all winter long. Outside life carried on, seemingly unchanged, although behind the closed doors of the West Village street, that was not the case at all. Seth for example had decided that he should spend the whole weekend in his chair at home, and had not left the house at all. It had not been as easy a weekend as he had imagined; indeed, he had felt more than a little helpless at times, but he knew that other people had it much worse than him. After all, when he needed to reach something on a high shelf, he could still get up from the chair and do so, although he did scold himself for leaving so essential in such an inaccessible location in the first place. He made a mental note that he would need to order one of those picker devices he had seen online so that he would be better prepared in the future…
Along the street, another significant event had finally been scheduled. Ethan had been trying for a while, without success, to arrange for his mother to come to New York for the weekend for some time; his conviction that he wanted to have a formal role in Evie's life, as Drew wished, had grown strongly in strength. She was however a very hard woman to tie down, even more so since she had taken on more of the burden of the day to day operation of Mackenzie Inc, after her husband's heart attack. In the end though it turned out to be quite easy to convince her that she should attend the charity ball for the Mackenzie Trust that the board had organised for the first Saturday in September. Her husband would not be joining her, not liking these sorts of affair, and so Ethan would accompany her as her partner.
He had booked her a room for the night at a hotel near Union Square. She normally favoured the Plaza, but Ethan had told her a white lie, and informed her that her usual suite was booked already, and that there were no rooms of a similar standard available at all on that weekend. The hotel that he had booked instead was lower priced, and had a number of charitable connections, and thus he was also able to point out that the media would also see it very favourably. Once she had seen photos of the room he had booked for her online, she had agreed to his suggestion with no reluctance at all.
She also scheduled time on Sunday morning for a proper breakfast with her son, so that they could catch up. What he did not say when he accepted and made the reservations was that he would also be bringing Drew and Evie with him. The fact was that his parents knew little about Drew, other than his name. The few times that Ethan had brought him back home from Dalton with him during his vacations, they had been too busy to see him properly. That had left Drew saddened for his friend, knowing that he was in the same place as his parents but never able to see them; he appreciated his own mom and dad much more after that experience.
His opinion on the fact that he would now be meeting Mrs Mackenzie properly was mixed. He knew that he needed to, as they had to ensure that she and Ethan's father would not object to the whole issue of their son becoming Evie's guardian, but he did not know quite what to expect from her. The pictures that her son had shown him did nothing to reveal her character, and although she looked kindly enough in them, so had his now ex-wife. For that simple reason, he and Ethan had agreed that they should not tell Evie they were going to meet her beforehand. That way, should everything go wrong, she would not be as hurt by the possible rejection by Ethan's mom. After all, she had been through enough hurt and anguish in her life already; the last thing Drew wanted was to put her in the firing line again…
Ethan was also concerned that his mother might cancel the arrangements at the last minute. It was all that he could think of in the week leading up to the ball; that he would get a call either on Saturday morning, saying she couldn't make it, or worse still, on the Sunday, cancelling their breakfast meeting because something work related had come up. That was the reason why, on the Friday morning, he decided to do something that he had not done since the day before he had graduated from Dalton; he called his mother's PA. He had known the lady in question since childhood, and back in the day, she had been the one that had called up with the excuses when something had to be cancelled. Now he wished her to repeat something that she had done for him on that most important day of his high school life; to not call his mother on any pretext at all on Saturday or Sunday, and if at all possible, see that no-one else did either.
His request left the lady silent for a moment, then she said in a measured tone, "It could be done; it is usually much quieter at the weekend in any case. I could send out an E-mail asking that all urgent matters are referred to me in the first instance, and I could get your father to deal with a lot of the decisions anyway."
"That is exactly what I was hoping you would say. It is important that she is at the ball, and on Sunday morning, I have something important that I need to share with her; in fact, I would describe it as a major event."
"I hope that you are not about to agree to sitting on the board already? I know that they are both keen for you to take on that responsibility, but in my opinion, that can still wait."
"Oh I agree, but to be honest, if I had needed to, I was going to use that idea as a lure on mom to ensure she met me. Thankfully, the lure of the charity ball was enough to get her to come, and the fact that the Plaza Hotel is so busy has ensured that she will be staying that much closer to me this time round. So if you could see that contact with her is embargoed until at least noon on Sunday, I would be eternally in your debt. That way I know I have enough time to talk to her, because what I need to say will have an impact not just on the family, but potentially on the direction of the entire organisation…"
Mrs Mackenzie arrived in the city at 5pm on the Saturday, later than she had intended. She went straight to the hotel, and found that it was entirely to her satisfaction, both in terms of the rooms, and the attention the staff gave to her. In her room was a surprise; Ethan had passed on her dress sizes, obtained from her PA, to Isabelle, and thus there were half a dozen ensembles assembled from the Vogue closet, just waiting for her to try on and select for her costume that evening. That made her smile; she had been told that her son was friendly with the woman that was now the editor of the great fashion bible, and had indeed ensured that she and her husband were included on the guest list that evening, but to have a choice of stunning designer outfits awaiting her was a brand new experience; better yet, all had been chosen to fit her age range and stature in society.
Ethan arrived to pick her up punctually at 7pm, dressed in a designer dinner suit from the same source, and brought a corsage, which made his mother laugh as he pinned it on her as if she was his prom date. Their journey up to the venue in Midtown was swift in a gleaming limousine; as they entered the building itself there were a lot of popping flashbulbs, and they obliged the photographers by stopping for a moment so that they could get the shots they required. The ball itself would be a huge success, the crowd joined by any number of A-listers, all anxious to be seen supporting the unparalleled philanthropy of one of the nation's largest firms. The generous donations that were made that night would add to the funds of the Mackenzie Trust. At the same time, it also gave those donors a chance to meet invited guests from the recipients, and to hear them talk first hand about their work, and the benefits they achieved from working with the organisation…
With the night more or less winding up, Ethan and his mother took their leave just before midnight, driving back southward through streets that were still busy with weekend crowds. "I have to say that was one of the best of these balls I have attended for several years. The board has done us proud, son. I take it that you have had no issues working with any of them?"
"None at all; they are all good people, and they know what they are doing, with more experience between them than I will ever have. I have to be honest and tell you that chairing the Trust does give me more pleasure than I ever could have imagined. However, I still do not feel ready to take my seat on the company board full time as of yet."
"I quite understand. It is quite a responsibility to run such a huge organisation, and I only fully appreciated that myself when your father was forced to take a back seat, and more of the day to day work fell to me. It is definitely a full time job, even with the best people at your side, and the assistance of a life partner. I do wish that you had someone in your life, Ethan, or that we had given you a sibling to share that load with in the future."
"It is what it is mom; things are the way they are. The future can be influenced, however, and that is something that I actually wish to discuss with you at length over breakfast tomorrow. I will be at the hotel for 9am sharp; they have a private dining alcove off the main room, and I have taken the liberty of reserving it so that we can chat without an audience or unwanted interruptions."
His mother regarded him for a moment, then said, "You have me intrigued now as to exactly what you wish to discuss…" No more was said on the subject as the car arrived at the hotel, and Mrs Mackenzie climbed out. She went inside to her bed with no clue as to exactly what he wanted to say, and he headed home in the car, in the knowledge that she was in for a surprise the following day…
After his night out with his mother, Ethan woke early on the Sunday morning; not the greatest thing, but a necessary one. The first thing that he noticed as he woke was that Drew was not lying in the bed beside him, even though he had been there, in his bedroom, when he had arrived home last night. He had been sound asleep as Ethan had climbed into the bed beside him, and although he had not even known that he was there, it seemed that even the faint scent of his cologne was enough to calm his best friend and save him from having nightmares. He suddenly heard the bedroom door opening, and looked up to see him standing there, approaching with a cup of coffee for him.
"Drink up; it will help to keep you awake," said Drew with a smile. "Evie is currently in the bathroom. I told her we were going out for breakfast this morning as a treat, and she had already chosen which dress she is going to wear. I was thinking that we should tell her who is going to be there before we arrive, so she is prepared. You know how she can be with strangers."
"Probably, but we can do that on the way, and that leaves much less time for her to let her stress and worry build up. Speaking of that subject, how are you feeling about all of this now the big day has arrived?"
"Honestly? I am nervous, as there is so much at stake today. We need to get your mom to approve of this, or all of our carefully made plans will fall apart. I just want to ensure that I don't foul it up."
Ethan motioned Drew to come over and sit on the bed beside him. He wrapped an arm round his shoulders, and said, "The best way to avoid that is just to be yourself. As I have said already, if the worst comes to the worst, we will do it anyway. I do not see them selling the firm, or breaking up the business, and there is no-one else for them to leave it to other than me. The only reason we are telling them at all is as a mark of respect; they can't stop us. Now, time is marching on, and we need to get dressed ourselves…"
Ethan got up and headed towards the en-suite bathroom, but as he walked away, Drew felt more uneasy after his words than he had before. If he made a bad impression today, then he could easily cause a rift between Ethan and his parents. That was something that he was determined to avoid by any means. For that reason, all had to be well, because the consequences would not just destroy him, but everyone around him…
