The solarium was Simon’s favorite room in the house. On the east side of the house, morning sun poured in its windows. His mother had filled the room with lots of greenery and dozens of her prized orchids, as well as a fountain and waterfall at one end of the room. Percy, his mother’s pet parrot, occupied a fancy gilded cage in the shaded northwest corner, and Max, her chocolate Lab, could usually be found lying in front of the windows overlooking the river that meandered along the back of their property. Although the rest of the house was furnished with expensive antiques and imported rugs, the solarium was casually and cheerfully filled with bamboo chairs and sofas covered with bright chintz cushions. Dotted around the room were glass-topped side tables and a matching tea wagon. Today, because the day was mild, some of the windows were open, and Simon could hear the snip of the gardener’s shears somewhere nearby.
“I’m glad you called,” Larissa said, settling into her favorite chair by the waterfall. Max slowly got to his feet, stretched and moved over to her side, where he noisily flopped down once more. “I wanted to talk to you about the board meeting, anyway.”
“What about it?”
His mother started to speak, then fell silent as Martha entered the room carrying a large silver tray. She set it down on the tea wagon, then wheeled the wagon close to where his mother was seated. The tray was loaded with a silver teapot, creamer, sugar bowl, cups and saucers, small plates and a platter filled with bite-size sandwiches and a matching cake dish upon which sat what looked like a lemon sponge cake—Simon’s favorite.
He smiled at Martha. “How’d you know I was coming today?”
Her answering smile was warm. “Don’t you know I’m a mind reader?”
“Among other things,” he said, laughing. Like a saint for putting up with our family all these years.
Once Martha left the room and Simon and his mother had helped themselves to the refreshments, his mother said, “I wanted to discuss the amount of the family allocations before we talked about them at the meeting.”
“That’s why I came today. To talk about them.”
His mother raised her eyebrows. “Oh?” She lifted her teacup and sipped, her blue eyes meeting his over the rim of the cup.
Simon knew there was no percentage in stalling. He drank some of his own tea, then put the cup down and leaned forward. “I wish I had better news for you, Mom. I know what I have to say will not be pleasant to hear, but the bottom line is, there will be no increases to any of the family allocations this year.”
Setting her own cup down a trifle harder than the fine china warranted, his mother’s gaze turned icy. “You’re not serious. You couldn’t possibly be. Of course we must have an increase. Perhaps you don’t need one, but I simply can’t continue on without one, and I know Todd will feel the same way. After all, he’s just been married. It’s outrageous to think he can continue to live on the same amount of money. First of all, he and Meredith cannot live indefinitely in that condo of his.” She said the word condo as if it caused a bad taste in her mouth. “It’s tacky, all that black and red and chrome, just not the kind of place a young woman like Meredith would ever want to live in. I mean, surely you can see that, if anything, Todd will need to have his allocation doubled!”
There were a few things Simon could say to that, like the fact that in addition to his share of profits, Todd also drew a substantial salary from the company, but he’d learned long ago how futile it was to criticize his youngest brother. “I wish the company could afford to give everyone an increase—whether a family member or an employee—but Mark and I have gone over the numbers, and the company is simply not in a position to do so this year.”
“That’s ridiculous. I absolutely must have more to live on. If you think it’s easy to run this big house on what you give me … you’re mistaken. I make sacrifices to do so, and I’m tired of going without. I need at least fifty thousand more this year. I’d like seventy thousand, but I suppose I can manage on fifty.” She sat back in her chair with a satisfied smile. The queen bestowing a favor on one of her subjects. “No, Max,” she added irritably, as the dog nudged her leg. “Cake is bad for you.”
Simon suppressed a sigh. “Mother, the money is not what I give you. As one of the principal owners of Hopewell Enterprises the money is your share of each year’s profits. This year, there is very little profit. What with the new equipment, increases in some other expenses and the coming cost of retooling the plant, we’re stretched to the limit. In fact, your allocation should be cut by more than half. I realize that would cause you enormous hardship, so I plan to ask the board to okay keeping the amount the same as last year’s with the provision that we’ll take another look in six months.”
Larissa’s face paled. “And what does that mean?”
“It means if the changes we’ve made don’t help us improve our bottom line the way we think they will, we might have to decrease the amount you’re getting now.” Simon delivered this news as gently as he could.
“Decrease my share? Decrease it?” She jumped up. “How dare you!” She glared at him. “My own son! I can’t believe I’m hearing this. Why, your father would turn over in his grave if he knew how you were treating me. Weren’t you listening to me? I can’t run this house on what I’m getting now, let alone on less. What’s wrong with you, Simon? I’m beginning to think you’ve lost your mind. Either that or the power of running the company has gone to your head. The board will never go along with this. Never! In fact, I’m going to call Elias as soon as you leave here.”
Elias Whitney was president of the board and, along with Larissa, one of the largest shareholders in the company. He had, also along with Larissa, been against many of the changes Simon had recommended, although, in the end, he’d gone along with them.
Her threat didn’t scare Simon. Elias Whitney might be a longtime family friend, but he was also a shrewd businessman. Ultimately, he would continue to vote for the financial health of the company.
“Hopefully, this situation is only temporary. Just until we pay for all the upgrades.”
“Simon, are you hard of hearing? Have you not heard a word I said? I don’t have enough money to live on unless I get an increase. What do you propose I do? Do you want me to sell this house? Is that it?”
“I know you don’t want to sell the house.” Although why she needed an eight-bedroom home was beyond him. It wasn’t as if any of them still lived with her. Simon had bought his own home ten years ago, and both Todd and Noah had moved out years earlier. “But you could sell some of your stock to tide you over.”
“My stock!” She looked as shocked as if he’d suggested she sell her body. She gave him a hard look. “You have lost your mind. I will never sell my stock. That’s my insurance for the future.”
Simon knew that his father had carried a five-million dollar policy on his life and that most of that money should still be intact. Plus her company stock was worth upward of twenty million dollars, so her future was completely secure. But his mother was angry enough; he didn’t want to make things worse by pointing out the obvious.
For a few moments, he considered offering his mother the money she wanted—not as a loan but as a gift. Simon could afford it. He lived simply and saved more than he spent, and the value of his company stock was equal to hers. But he was reluctant for some reason. If she really did have money problems, he would have gladly helped her out. But she didn’t. She was just spoiled … and had a sense of entitlement. In her mind, since throughout her life as a Hopewell she’d always had whatever she wanted, she always should have whatever she wanted.
Maybe it was past time for her to learn what most people were forced to learn: that there was a difference between want and need.
An