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Chapter 37
March 2005
The next six weeks
were tough for Elizabeth and William. She knew now without a
doubt that her feelings for William had grown even stronger than
they were at college. Elizabeth was also convinced that Will
harbored some feelings for her, as well.
Will knew he was
making progress, but the forced separation felt like a blow.
He had thought the shipping accident could be handled with a
couple of meetings and a news conference expressing the corporation's
concerns for the families of the missing. But he and the DGS
execs did not count on the response of the European press, especially
the French newspapers, to the tragedy. Already anti-American
due to the war in Iraq, the headlines screamed of murder on the
high seas, as if the Edmund Fitzwilliam deliberately ran
down the fishing boat.
Will's ten-hour
days were spent in meetings with bankers, insurers, advisors,
the US State Department, and foreign government officials, when
he wasn't doing his regular day-to-day job. Thanks to the Internet,
he was able to handle most of his domestic business via emails
from a hastily arranged office in the London branch. Crisis management
experts from Britain and the States were flown in, and a game
plan was meritoriously laid out.
It didn't seem to
matter that the fishing boat that had been sunk was trolling
illegally in the shipping lane, in violation of French and international
laws and conventions. The boat sunk with all hands, and there
were mothers, widows, and orphans that lawyers could exploit
in front of willing TV cameras. Public opinion was decidedly
against the insensitive Americans. The referendum for the Constitution
of the European Union, or TCE, was coming up in May, and the
politicians were jockeying for position. An incident like this
could affect the outcome. President Jacques Chirac's popularity
was down, and there was nothing better to reverse that than to
go after an American corporation.
The separation put
stress on Will and Lizzy's ability to talk to each other. The
six-hour difference between Britain and Louisiana restricted
communications to the shared electronic messages he sent while
having dinner, which was lunch time back home. Otherwise, one
of them was sleeping while the other was working. Most of the
emails were an exchange of news or a recap of how that day's
work had gone. Nothing about the past was mentioned, and there
were only vague references to the future. Both felt they had
fallen into limbo.
Will had been in
London for three weeks, accomplishing little, and vented via
email.
To: eboudreaux@edno.org
From: wgd@deltaglobalshipping.com
Lizzy,
Sometimes I
don't know why the hell I'm here. The investigation is taking
forever, and we're getting killed in the press. Even some of
the MPs here in the UK are bad-mouthing us. I've got to trust
my people and my advisors, but somehow I think we're missing
something.
Below is a link
to one of the articles. It's from a Paris newspaper, but I know
you speak French (LOL)…
------------
To: wgd@deltaglobalshipping.com
From: eboudreaux@edno.org
Will,
Thanks for the
link. Makes me glad I gave up journalism. I'm sorry for everything
you're going through. If it makes you feel better, I can tell
you that the coverage from the Times-Picayune has been sympathetic…
------------
To: eboudreaux@edno.org
From: wgd@deltaglobalshipping.com
Lizzy,
Nice to see
that somebody loves us. Still no progress today, except our French
lawyers claim there's some dirt on the master of the fishing
boat. Our people want to leak it to the press, but my gut tells
me that now's not the right time. Especially since it could get
traced back to us.
So, how's the
weather back there? We get any rain? I could look out my window
and tell you it's fine over here, just cold. Have I told you
it sucks being in London and not being able to enjoy it? Unlike
the last time I was here…
------------
To: wgd@deltaglobalshipping.com
From: eboudreaux@edno.org
Will,
Somehow, I don't
think you're telling me all about your adventures in London Town
from way back when. You couldn't have been that well-behaved!
LOL!
On another subject,
I've been thinking about your problem with the press. The issue
is not so much that you're a big, bad American company. It's
that you're a big, bad American company that doesn't care about
the little guy.
You were right
to trust your gut. Leaking dirt about the victims won't help.
And no matter how guilty the captain of the boat may have been,
the families are still the real victims in this case.
What's being done for them?
------------
From: wgd@deltaglobalshipping.com
Lizzy,
The families?
Nothing that I know of…
------------
To: wgd@deltaglobalshipping.com
From: eboudreaux@edno.org
Will,
I've got an
idea - tell me what you think. DGS sets up a trust fund to help
the children of the boat's crew. You can get a lot of the shipping
interests to contribute to it. Even approach the fishing boat's
owners. If they pitch in, then it shows that the two companies
can work together to help the kids. If they don't, then DGS shows
they're the more sensitive company…
------------
To: eboudreaux@edno.org
rom: wgd@deltaglobalshipping.com
Lizzy,
I've got to
say your idea took us by storm over here. Our PR people were
castigating themselves for not coming up with it themselves.
Our lawyers, on the other hand, hated it. They thought it was
as good as an admittance of fault.
I disagreed.
All indications are that the investigation is moving our way.
If the truth does win out, we're safe from lawsuits. So, on my
recommendation, we're moving forward with the fund.
Good work, Lizzy.
I owe you two dinners, now…
The key to the success
of this idea was William Darcy. Young, tall, and handsome, he
was the perfect spokesman for the corporation. That his family
came from English and Norman stock didn't hurt, and his ability
to speak French was vital. He could talk directly to the French
officials and, with interviews on TV, to the French people.
The defining moment
came when he met publicly with the families of the fishermen.
His sincere concern over their welfare and the announcement of
the establishment of a trust fund for the children's future turned
the tide with the wider public opinion. Shipping and fishing
companies from both sides of the Atlantic contributed.
Finally in mid-April,
Will announced that the preliminary findings of the Court of
Inquiry acquitted the Edmund Fitzwilliam of any fault,
placing the blame squarely upon the master of the fishing boat.
By then, the press had reported the previous missteps and violations
by the captain of the boat, and the families' ire turned to the
French company that had hired and retained the incompetent man.
~*~*~
April 2005
George, Abe, and
Emma sat around the dinner table enjoying a meal of Miz Taylor's
chicken gumbo, Caesar salad, and garlic French bread - a now
familiar routine at the Katz's house. Certainly there were days
when George worked late, but they could now be measured in times
per month, rather than per week. The relationship between husband
and wife was as good as either could ask for, if the satisfied
expression on Mrs. Katz's face meant anything. Even Abe was happier.
The recent renovations to the house had gotten the old man out
of a five-year-long funk. Now sometimes he even called a cab
to drive him over to the New Orleans Museum of Art to while away
an afternoon, if Emma was otherwise busy volunteering at NCJW.
"George,"
Emma said, "I've been thinking. Would you like to have some
company for Passover this year?"
"Sure, that
would be nice. Who were you planning to invite?"
"We haven't
had Chris and Mari over for dinner since they got engaged."
"Mari?"
Abe chipped in. "Isn't she Lizzy Boudreaux's friend?"
"Yes, Papa.
She's engaged to Chris Breaux."
"I like that
Lizzy girl. Why don't you invite her, too?"
George shrugged
with a grin. "The more the merrier."
~*~*~
"I've never
been to a Passover Seder," Lizzy admitted to Mari while
sharing lunch, one eye on her BlackBerry.
"Me, either.
Emma says it's a festive meal celebrating freedom. It ought to
be fun." She dug into her chef's salad.
Lizzy's retort died
in the throat as her BlackBerry chimed, indicating that an email
had come in. Mari smirked as Lizzy unashamedly read the message
on the little screen. "What does Will say today?"
A huge smile broke
out on Lizzy's face. "He's coming home! Will's coming home!"
"No way!"
All other thoughts disappeared. "When?"
"Friday the
15th - Tax day." Her face fell. "Late."
"How late?"
"Real late
- almost midnight."
"Poor baby."
Mari didn't clarify whether she was talking about Will or Lizzy.
She thought for a minute. "Hey! Why don't you invite him
to the Seder?"
"What?"
Lizzy looked at her friend.
"Sure,"
Mari warmed to her idea. "Will's gonna rest all day Saturday,
if he's coming in that late on Friday, right? So, since we're
all already going to be at the Katzes' on Sunday, a well-rested
Will gets to see all of us, kick back, and relax. Talk about
celebrating freedom! Who needs it more than Will after the month
he's gone through? It's brilliant!" She pointed at the device.
"Go ahead and ask him."
"Mari, I can't
invite Will to the Katzes' Passover."
"Why not?"
"Because it's
the Katzes' Passover, not mine! That's up to Em and George."
"Oh, to heck
with that." She reached over and took the BlackBerry out
of her startled friend's hand. Over Lizzy's protests, Mari quickly
composed a reply to Will's email and sent it. "We're all
friends, here. There! We'll see what he says."
Lizzy reclaimed
her BlackBerry, her look as dark as the device. "Mari, honestly
- sometimes you go too far!" She began pressing the keys.
"What are you
doing?"
"Sending him
a message to disregard yours. You get me so mad…" She
stopped as the device chimed again.
To: eboudreaux@edno.org
From: wgd@deltaglobalshipping.com
Mari,
I'd ask you
how you got a hold of Lizzy's BlackBerry without her killing
you, but I figure you're running too fast to answer.
As for your
invite - I'd be happy to come and join y'all, if it's OK w/Em
& George.
Lizzy, if you're
reading this, have mercy on the girl.
See y'all on
Sunday the 17th.
Will
"Still mad,
Lizzy?" asked Mari with a smirk.
"You were born
to hang, girl," she said, but the threat held no malice.
She was finally going to see William again on Sunday.
~*~*~
Mari was not through
plotting. "Will's coming home on Friday," she announced
to Chris that evening over dinner.
"He is? That's
great!"
"That's not
all. I invited him to the Katzes on Sunday for Passover."
"Wonderful
- I haven't seen that…wait. You invited him?"
"How
I'm getting him there isn't important. What is important is to
show him how Lizzy feels about him. Get those two crazy kids
together."
"I don't know…"
"Aw, c'mon,
sugar. You know Will's nuts about Lizzy, and we both know Lizzy
feels the same. This isn't matchmaking. It's…greasing the
wheels."
"Greasing the
wheels, huh?"
"Yeah!"
Chris grumbled.
"Greasing - humph. Probably going to slip and break my ass
over this…"
"You're gonna
help!?" Mari squealed.
"You think
I'm entrusting this to you? We're going to do this right. First,
we've got to call Emma…"
~*~*~
Emma was trying
not to wring her hands as she waited with her husband for their
Passover guests to arrive. She had spent the last few weeks,
with the help of Mrs. Taylor, cleaning the house of any chametz
- anything leaven, anything made with wheat, rye, barley, oats
and spelt - like the saltines and Abe's beer. Also, anything
used in the making or cooking of chametz was cleaned or
stored away. After all her preparation, the table was finally
set with the best china, exquisite linen, and two long tapers
burning in silver candlesticks. Delicious smells of roast turkey
wafted out of the kitchen and filled the house. Emma took it
upon herself to arrange the special Seder plates and wine glasses
herself. Had she forgotten something?
Emma jumped as the
doorbell rang. George noticed and took her hand. "It's all
right, babe. Everything's perfect. Let's just enjoy ourselves."
She gave him a relieved smile as he opened the door.
First to arrive
were Chris and Marianne, with Lizzy only moments behind them.
All were still gathered in the foyer, laughing at an awful old
chestnut of Abe's about a priest, a rabbi, and a goat in a bar
when the doorbell rang again. Emma only had a moment to note
Lizzy's agitated mood before George welcomed William into the
house. Except for Mari's cry of hello, all was quiet while Will
and Lizzy had locked eyes. The next moment, the two embraced
in a more than friendly hug.
After a cocktail
in the den, where Will quickly recounted his adventures in Europe,
the party moved into the dining room and found their seats. Abe
sat at the head of the table, Emma opposite of him. To her right
was George, to her left, William. Lizzy sat next to him, while
Chris and Mari took their seats on the other side of the table.
Passover was not only a celebration of faith and freedom; it
was a recital of sorts, with everyone playing a role. The "script"
was found in the Hagaddah, a small booklet set at each
place.
Abe, as the eldest,
was given the honor of leading the Seder, and as such, he slipped
on his kittel, the simple white robe he was married in
and, Emma was touched to know, he would someday be buried in.
"Shalom!"
he began with his stentorian cheer. "Welcome to our Passover
Seder, or as the ancestors call it, Pesach." Abe
looked at Will, who was testing the word on his tongue. "That's
right, Will, you may know a little Latin and speak French like
a native, but tonight you'll get a little ancient Hebrew!"
Emma wondered why
Will blushed, and Lizzy seemed to choke back a laugh.
"I speak for
my daughter and son when I say, we are blessed that you have
joined us tonight. As this is, for most of you, your first Seder,
I'll explain a little as we go."
"Like we can
keep you quiet, Abe," George said.
"Ah! You see
what I have to put up with? One day, son, you'll have a little
Katz that will put you in your place!"
"You've already
given me one of those."
"George!"
Emma laughed in mock indication, while the nervous company laughed
and warmed to their affectionate ribbing.
The rest of the
meal went just as well, to Emma's delight. Abe was at his best,
entertaining all with quips, stories, and even his best Jackie
Mason routine. Emma had not seen her father this animated since
his illness. He was funny, kind, and his own brand of schmaltzy.
He took care to explain the significance of the foods on the
Seder plate. There was a huge twinkle in his eye as he "hid"
the afikoman, the bit of matzah put away for the
end of the meal, under Mari's plate.
"Keep it safe,
now," he said with a smile and a conspiratorial wink.
Mari had a surprise
in store for the others, when Abe asked her, as the youngest
in attendance, to recite the Four Questions from the Hagaddah.
Emma clapped her hands in joy as Mari held a sheet of paper and
sang in Hebrew "Ma Nishtana."
"Ma nishtana
halaila hazeh, mikol halelot…"1
When she finished
her song, the table roared in approval, none more than Emma.
Not only was it a song from her own childhood, what really touched
her was the fact that Mari had taken the trouble of learning
it. She wiped tears from her eyes.
Everyone enjoyed
a scrumptious meal of gefilte fish, matzah ball soup, Turducken,
and ratatouille - George perhaps too much, as he went for seconds
of everything. Emma knew she would have to get on her hubby about
watching his waistline.
Once the chocolate
mousse was enjoyed and the afikoman was recovered and
consumed, Emma's tears returned, for Abe sat back and recalled
how Irene and Emma would dash about the house, hunting high and
low, for the afikoman when they were little. George glanced
at her as she tried to dry her eyes; she well remembered how
much effort Papa put into hiding the piece of matzah and
how her mother used to scold him for his silliness, while secretly
charmed all the same by the uproar. At that instant, Emma missed
her mother and sister keenly.
Finally the forth
and last cup of wine was poured - for Nirtzah, the final
blessing of the Seder. Abe raised his cup, and with a voice of
emotion that had been carried by his people for uncounted generations,
declared, "Next year in Jerusalem!"
The crowd broke
out in spontaneous applause and all took a hand clearing the
table. When they were done, they filed into the den.
~*~*~
The three couples
sat, along with Abe, talking quietly. Chris and Mari were in
adjoining armchairs, Will and Liz sharing the couch with Emma
and George.
Lizzy and Will would
have been mortified if they had any inking of the interest they
raised in their friends. The others in the room had no doubt
that the two were only one lip-lock away from being a couple.
The name cards at the table proved to be superfluous - Lizzy
hadn't left Will's side since he arrived. And Will was just as
obvious with his attentions to the lady. He had shared little
jokes with her throughout the meal when he wasn't falling all
over himself to be of service to her - filling her wine glass
or serving ratatouille. As they sat on the couch, his arm was
over the back, possessively encircling Lizzy. It wouldn't take
much for it to drop down upon her shoulders.
After a time, Will
tried and failed to suppress a yawn. "You must be exhausted,"
Lizzy observed with a mixture of concern and disappointment.
"Haven't quite
shaken off the jet-lag, I guess," he admitted. There were
bags under his eyes. He was clearly still exhausted, even after
a full day of rest. His hair was a little grayer, but the face
that was smiling at her, displaying those dimples that had grown
so dear to her, was flushed and full. Obviously, his diet hadn't
suffered, and he hadn't neglected his exercise routine.
"So, get some
rest," advised Chris. "What's the rest of your week
like?"
"Not too bad.
I've got to play catch-up, but most of the meetings are early
in the week. Unfortunately," he grimaced, "I gotta
fly out to New York next Sunday. I've got a lot of Wall Street
types I have to meet with next Monday. Got to keep the investors
happy - let 'em know that DGS is going to survive after this
near-debacle."
"You know,
Jazz Fest's next weekend," Mari observed. "We never
miss the opening. Chris and I are going on Friday - Lizzy's coming,
too." She turned to the Katzes. "How 'bout you guys?"
George shook his
head. "I'm on call this weekend. If we go at all, it'll
be the second week."
Chris leaned over.
"Will, why don't you join us on Friday?"
Will waved his hand.
"I don't know…"
"C'mon!"
Chris insisted. "You need a break. It's just what the doctor
ordered!"
Mari chimed in.
"And he's a doctor - he should know!"
Chris resumed, "You
just said it's going to be light at the end of the week. Reschedule
some stuff, and get your dancing shoes on!"
Will glanced at
Lizzy and saw her hopeful eyes. His gesture didn't go unnoticed
by anyone in the room. "I got a conference call early Friday
morning, but after that…"
"Yay, Will!"
cried Mari. Lizzy gripped Will's hand unconsciously.
"Okay, okay,"
he laughed. "But I'll have to meet you there."
"That's fine,"
said Chris. "The gates don't open until eleven, anyway."
Will nodded as he
yawned again. As much as she didn't want this evening to end,
Lizzy knew he was dead on his feet.
"Will,"
she said, "I think you ought to go home and get some rest,
before you fall asleep on George's sofa."
"As long as
he keeps his tuchus off my La-Z-Boy," Abe interjected,
"he can stay put."
"Thanks, Abe.
But you're right, Lizzy." He stood up, and everybody followed,
Lizzy stating her intention to walk him to his car.
"Need a ride,
partner?" asked Chris.
"Nah,"
Will waved him off. "I hardly drank any wine. I'll be fine."
He then took his leave of the company.
"Abe,"
he said as he shook the older man's hand, "I enjoyed the
Seder. It was a new experience, very informative and entertaining.
Thank you for inviting me."
"Well, even
the smartest guy in town can learn a few new things," Abe
smiled with a wink to Lizzy.
"I take back
the entertaining part," Will deadpanned. Both men broke
out in a laugh.
Abe hugged him.
"Take care, my boy."
"You too, sir."
Will then said his goodbyes to Chris and Mari, saving the Katzes
for last.
Emma got a big hug.
"Thanks, Em. Everything was wonderful."
"Let's have
dinner again soon, stranger," she told him.
"You got it."
He hugged George next. "Thanks buddy. And take it easy."
"Been talking
to my wife, huh? Besides, look who's talking!"
Will laughed. "Okay,
let's both take it easy, all right?" No other words were
spoken between the two old fraternity brothers - they only patted
each other's shoulders in a silent promise. Repeating his farewells,
he left the Katzes' house with Lizzy at his side, holding his
hand. The couple walked quietly to his BMW, each enjoying the
other's company.
At the car, Lizzy
fiddled with Will's collar. "You get some rest, hear?"
"Yes, Mommy,"
he teased. "It was great seeing you. I'm glad I came."
"Me, too. I'm
looking forward to Friday."
"I don't know.
I might just pass out on you."
She caught his eye.
"I don't think so."
It wasn't planned
- he meant to give her a kiss on the cheek. His lips were simply
on hers, sweet and light, his hands on her shoulders, hers rested
on the warmth of his chest. Will pulled back, their faces in
shadow.
"Good night,
Lizzy," he croaked.
Her tongue tasted
her lips before she answered. "Good night, Will."
She wrapped her
arms around herself as Will released her to get into his car.
After opening the door, he paused.
"Told you I
owed you something," he said softly.
"What…?"
She touched her lips. "You mean…this?"
"Elevator,"
he grinned at her dawning remembrance of the daring kiss she
had bestowed on his cheek. "I told you I keep my promises."
Her eyes lit up.
"So you did."
"I haven't
forgotten about dinner, either. See you Friday." He climbed
into the BMW and drove down the street.
Lizzy watched until
he was out of sight, taking in the warm evening. Her heart pumped
a mile a minute. She knew they were friends - close friends at
that. But now the possibility was very real that William still
cared for her, in the way she cared for him.
Her traitorous mind
summoned her guilt and screamed that it was impossible. She had
done too much, hurt him too badly to expect that her secret desires
might come true. Yet, her body, her tingling lips, declared the
opposite. The warm touch of his mouth on hers was no dream. It
was real; she could still feel it.
Stop thinking
so much!
She made a promise
to herself. From now on, she would go with the flow and follow
her heart. If what she felt was real, Lizzy would know it soon
enough.
Perhaps Friday?
~*~*~
Meanwhile, in the
car, Will reviewed his actions with a mixture of hope and consternation.
The only reason he had attended tonight was to see Elizabeth.
That the rest of the evening turned out to be fun was icing on
the cake.
He thought about
Elizabeth's actions. He was pleasantly surprised at the warmth
of her greeting - that big hug she gave him when he arrived.
The fact she didn't leave his side didn't escape his notice,
either. His plan of letting her take the lead was working; each
moment she was more affectionate.
But did he blow
it at the end? He hadn't meant to kiss her on the lips. He wanted
to - good lord, he wanted to kiss every last inch of her - but
the last thing he wanted was to scare her off by pushing too
hard, too fast. His damn desires had gotten the best of him.
Thank goodness it didn't seem to have backfired on him.
Take it easy,
man! Get a grip. You're just tired - that's why you slipped.
You'll do better on Friday - you'll be rested and ready. Let
her take the lead, and let it work itself out.
"I just hope
I don't explode first!"
~*~*~
"Wow. You're
slick, sugar," Mari purred.
"Impressed?"
Chris grinned as he drove Mari home.
"I bow to the
master. 'Just what the doctor ordered.' I thought I would break
up laughing. I still don't know how I held it together."
"You did pretty
good yourself, babe."
"You think
either one of them suspects?"
"Nah. They're
both so focused on one another, they have no clue."
"So, what's
the game plan?"
"Hey, who needs
one? We're going to Jazz Fest - good music, better food, and
less clothing. We'll play it by ear. But, let's make sure that
Lizzy and Will have plenty of time by themselves."
She stroked his
hand as she looked at him though her lashes. "Really? Is
that just for their benefit?"
He glanced at her,
his desire evident. "Nope."
"Good."
~*~*~
1 - "Why is
this night different from all other nights?
On all other nights we eat either leavened bread or matzah.
On this night, we eat only matzah.
On all other nights we eat all kinds of vegetables.
On this night, we eat bitter herbs.
On all other nights we do not usually dip vegetables even once.
On this night, we dip twice.
On all other nights we eat either sitting upright or reclining.
On this night, we eat reclining."
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