“Our company is going to put up a new building in Olathe.”
And Julia would immediately report back to her bosses.
“Mr. Hanley wants to build a summer home in Tonganoxie.”
And before anyone else found out about it, Peters, Eastman & Tolkin had the jobs.
Bob Eastman called Julia in one day and said, “You deserve a raise, Julia. You’re doing a great job. You’re one hell of a secretary!”
“Would you do me a favor?” Julia asked.
“Sure.
“Call me an executive secretary. It will help my credibility.”
From time to time, Julia would read newspaper articles about her father, or watch him being interviewed on television. She never mentioned him to Sally or to any of her employers.
When Julia was younger, one of her daydreams had been that, like Dorothy, she would one day be whisked away from Kansas to some beautiful, magical place. It would be a place filled with yachts and private planes and palaces. But now, with the news of her father’s death, that dream was ended forever. Well, I got the Kansas part right, she thought wryly.
I have no family left. But I do, Julia corrected herself. I have two half brothers and a half sister. They’re family. Should I go visit them? Good idea? Bad idea? I wonder how we would feel about one another?
Her decision turned out to be a matter of life or death.
Chapter Twelve
It was the gathering of a clan of strangers. It had been years since they had seen or communicated with one another.
Judge Tyler Stanford arrived in Boston by plane.
Kendall Stanford Renaud flew in from Paris. Marc Renaud took the train from New York.
Woody Stanford and Peggy drove up from Hobe Sound.
The heirs had been notified that the funeral services would take place at King’s Chapel. The street outside the church was barricaded, and there were policemen to hold back the crowd that had gathered to watch the dignitaries arrive. The vice president of the United States was there, as well as senators and ambassadors and statesmen from as far away as Turkey and Saudi Arabia. During his lifetime, Harry Stanford had cast a large shadow, and all seven hundred seats in the chapel would be occupied.
Tyler and Woody and Kendall, with their spouses, met inside the vestry. It was an awkward meeting. They were alien to one another, and the only thing they had in common was the body of the man in the hearse outside the church.
“This is my husband, Marc,” Kendall said.
“This is my wife, Peggy. Peggy, my sister, Kendall, and my brother, Tyler.”
There were polite exchanges of hellos. They stood there, uncomfortably studying one another, until an usher came up to the group.
“Excuse me,” he said in a hushed voice. “The services are about to begin. Would you follow me, please?”
He led them to a reserved pew at the front of the chapel. They took their seats and waited, each preoccupied with his or her own thoughts.
To Tyler, it felt strange to be back in Boston. The only good memories he had of it were when his mother and Rosemary were alive. When he was eleven, Tyler had seen a print of the famous Goya painting Saturn Devouring His Son, and he had always identified it with his father.
And now, Tyler, looking over at his father’s coffin as it was carried into the church by the pallbearers, thought, Saturn is dead.
“I know your dirty little secret.”
The minister stepped into the chapel’s historic wineglass-shaped pulpit.
“Jesus said unto her, I am the resurrection and the life: he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live: and whosoever liveth and believeth in me shall never die.”
Woody was feeling exhilarated. He had taken a hit of heroin before coming to the church, and it had not worn off yet. He glanced over at his brother and sister. Tyler has put on weight. He looks like a judge. Kendall has turned into a beauty, but she seems to be under a strain. I wonder if it’s because Father died? No. She hated him as much as I did. He looked at his wife, seated next to him. I’m sorry I didn’t get to show her off to the old man. He would have died of a heart attack.