The Sins of the Mother Read online

  “Not for another six weeks, in July.” He knew about the birthday trip she took with her children every year. Each time she chose a different spectacular venue to entice them and entertain them. It was a tradition she had started after her husband died, and she knew Joe would have approved. It was something she did to try and make up to them for the father they had lost, and the time she hadn’t spent with them when they were young. She knew she couldn’t make up for lost time, but the trips she arranged for them were wonderful for all of them, and she put a lot of thought and effort into it every year. She considered it a sacred time.

  She waved to him and hurried back to her office just as the elevator doors closed. It was nearly twelve-thirty, and she had an hour before the reporter from The New York Times arrived. She had already asked her assistant to provide a salad for her at her desk. She didn’t want to waste any time. She often did that or skipped lunch, which gave her the still-lithe, girlish figure other women envied and admired. It contributed to her looking younger than her age, along with her youthful, surprisingly unlined face. She never thought about her looks.

  Peter had reminded her of something with his question about her trip, and she stopped to speak to her assistant, Margaret, on her way back to her office.

  “Did the e-mails go out this morning about the trip?”

  “I sent them at ten o’clock this morning. And your lunch is waiting on your desk, with your messages and your call list.” She was planning to have her own lunch at her desk as well. She knew how busy Olivia was on the days that they held board meetings. Olivia would spend the rest of the day trying to catch up, and probably work late that night. Margaret was prepared to do the same. She never begrudged Olivia the time, and arranged her personal life accordingly. Her dedication to Olivia came first. Olivia inspired those who worked for her to work as hard as she did herself. They found her energy exciting.

  Olivia thanked her and walked into her large, elegantly appointed office. Everything in the room was light, airy, and beige. There were contemporary paintings on the walls, some of them by her son, and a handmade beige silk rug she’d had made in Italy. It was a pleasant place to work, and there were a couch and several chairs in one corner. It was where she would conduct the interview in an hour. It was for the business section of The New York Times. She was being interviewed by a young reporter she hadn’t met before. Margaret had already given her a sheet with his credentials and his background. He sounded relatively harmless to Olivia, although a little green. But she had profound respect for youth, and always valued a fresh perspective and new ideas.

  She loved talking to her grandchildren for that reason, and having them on the summer trip with her. It was a time she cherished with them every year, as much as she did with her own children. She hoped they’d all be excited by the trip she’d planned for them this year. It sounded like it was going to be one of their best. In her mind, it was an invitation, and in theirs it was a command performance. They knew she expected them to be there, and her invitations were always hard to resist.

  The next hour flew by, as Olivia returned dozens of calls and responded to several e-mails herself. She never had time to touch her salad, before Margaret called on the intercom to tell her the reporter from The New York Times had arrived. Olivia told her to bring him into her office, and she stood up to greet him and came around the desk, and led him to the comfortable couch and chairs.

  The man who sat down with her and returned her gaze was somewhere in his mid-twenties and was wearing jeans, running shoes, and a T-shirt. His hair was long and wild, and he looked as though he hadn’t shaved in several days. It was a familiar look for someone his age. He certainly hadn’t dressed for the occasion, and Olivia didn’t mind. She was used to earnest young reporters. Most of them looked awestruck or intimidated when they met Olivia, but this one didn’t. He began firing questions at her immediately. Olivia was undismayed by his lack of preamble or manners, and answered his questions clearly and directly, with a pleasant expression, undaunted by his style and appearance.

  The interview went well for nearly an hour, despite the unbridled frankness of his questions. He asked her some hard questions, and she enjoyed them and had ready answers. And then he broadsided her by touching on the topic of their meeting that morning. He was both alert and well informed, and obviously hoped to hit her Achilles’ heel and surprise her. Nothing showed in her face, as she carefully answered him.

  “Are you concerned about possible violations of child labor laws in the factories you’ve used in Asia?”

  “We have no proof of that,” she said calmly, “although we’ve done extensive research. That’s always a subject that concerns me, in any aspect of our business.”

  “Don’t you think it’s fair to assume that in those locations, and at the prices you’re paying, there must be violations somewhere along the line?”

  “I can’t assume anything,” Olivia said quietly. “We’re continuing to explore that possibility on an ongoing basis. We have no evidence of abusive practices from any of our sources.”

  “And if you do at some point, then what will you do?”

  “Respond appropriately, and take action. We don’t support human rights violations,” she assured him. “Nor child labor law abuses. I have four children and three grandchildren. The plight of children has always been a subject of deep interest to me.”

  “Enough to be willing to raise your prices, if you have to change factories? And start buying products at higher rates in Europe?”

  “Absolutely,” she said without hesitation. “The Factory does not support any kind of violation, of children or adults.” He moved off the subject then, satisfied for the moment, but she could tell that he was leery of her, and he had been very aggressive with her. He was skeptical of what she’d told him but had no proof otherwise. There was none to have. The Factory was clean and aboveboard in its dealings, which was a source of great pride to her.

  She accorded the young reporter nearly an hour and a half, and then her assistant came in and rescued her, and reminded her of another meeting, which she actually didn’t have. But an hour and a half seemed long enough for an interview. He would have stayed all afternoon if she allowed it. And Olivia’s time was precious, she had work to do and an empire to run.

  They shook hands, and the journalist sauntered out of her office looking as though he owned the world. She sensed that it was all posturing for her benefit, and as soon as the door closed behind him, she called Peter Williams to report to him on the meeting.

  “He asked about the child labor law issues at the factories in Asia,” Olivia said, sounding concerned about it, but pleased that they were alert and had raised the issue at the board meeting.

  “We have no proof of anything,” Peter reminded her. “And we’re keeping a very, very close watch,” he reassured her.

  “You’re still not worried?” she asked, checking the barometer again—no one else could advise her as well as he could on this issue. She trusted Peter’s judgment completely.

  “No, I’m not,” Peter said easily. “We’re clean, Olivia, no matter how hard he tries to scare you. It’s a cheap shot. Don’t buy into it. We’re keeping a very careful eye on the entire situation.”

  “We’ll see what happens. I hope the article is decent.”

  “It will be,” he said kindly. “How could it be otherwise?” She laughed at his comment. She knew better than that. The press wasn’t always fair, and seldom kind, even to her.

  “It could be otherwise, and we both know it,” Olivia reminded him. “We’re just lucky things are going smoothly for the moment. This would be a big headache if it ever went against us.”

  “We’ll take care of it, if it happens,” he said, sounding unruffled. And she knew he would. He had handled other difficult issues before, strikes in their factories, threatened lawsuits, and all manner of big and small aggravations, which was part of his job. “Just forget about all this now. We have it all in control. And
in six weeks, you’ll be on vacation.”

  “I can hardly wait,” she admitted to him. She’d worked hard for the past several months, just as she always did. She worked long days, and her travel schedule was brutal. She had a trip to Brazil planned, and another to New Zealand.

  “You deserve the time off,” Peter said kindly. Sometimes he wondered how she juggled all that she did, and how she survived the constant stress of her responsibilities. So much was expected of her and rested on her shoulders. And she wore the heavy mantle of her position with patience, fortitude, and grace. He knew what a toll it took on her, but she rarely if ever complained, and the stress never showed on her. She always appeared to be completely in control of any situation. And a few minutes later Olivia went back to work and forgot the interview and the conversation with Peter. All was well. The concern they had about child labor violations in their factories appeared to be unfounded. That’s all she needed to know, and if something changed, she’d be the first to react. And Peter Williams knew it as well. Olivia Grayson was a force to be reckoned with, like no other, and God help the person who thought they could put something over on her, and expect her not to respond. That day would never come, no matter what the cost to her. Olivia Grayson was an honorable woman. And for the rest of the afternoon, she worked like a demon at her desk, just as she did every day, and had for nearly fifty-two extraordinary years. It was everything she loved best in life. She thrived on hard work and always had. She knew that would never change.

  Chapter 2

  Olivia had been helping her mother run The Factory for four years, and was twenty-two years old, when Maribelle decided they should bring in a financial adviser to help them manage things. They were growing so rapidly with the changes Olivia had made that Maribelle could no longer handle the books herself. She had hired two more bookkeepers, but Olivia and her mother agreed they needed more than that. Maribelle put out feelers through their bank, and within a short time they recommended a young man from Vermont. Joe Grayson had a bachelor’s degree in business and economics and after graduating had become a CPA. He was twenty-seven years old, and seemed far more mature than his age. He was a quiet, solid man, and had been working in the Boston area for a year, doing accounting work for small businesses. The bank manager introduced him to Maribelle, and a week later he was going over their books. And after studying them carefully for a week, he made several suggestions that made sense to her. She hired him immediately, and although he still did work for others, he rapidly became a fixture at The Factory, and was frequently in the offices at the store. He was a pleasant, easygoing young man, with a good head for figures and a practical mind. He was even-tempered and reliable, and Olivia began discussing some of her expansion plans with him, and he gave her good advice. He never just told her what she should be doing, but explained the reasons why, and she began to consult with him more and more.

  What she didn’t know, as she chatted with him whenever he came by, was that he was absolutely dazzled by her, and in awe of her advanced ideas. He could easily see that with a little careful guidance, she could turn The Factory into a major industry. He was enormously impressed by the soundness and feasibility of her plans, and he showed her how to do what she had in mind. He soon became a valuable member of their team, and Olivia had a deep respect for what he said. He added elements she knew nothing about and taught her a great deal.

  And Maribelle noticed long before her daughter how taken Joe Grayson was with her. Maribelle invited him to dinner one night, in order to help things along, and after that he became a frequent guest, staying late at the office, and coming home with them at night for a simple meal. And because of his natural shyness, it took him six months to ask Olivia for a date, and she was startled when he did. She had never thought of him in that way, but only as a co-worker whose sensible suggestions she valued, and she valued his expertise with money. She discussed nearly everything with him by then, and he was always excited and astounded by her plans.

  When he took her out to dinner, all they ever talked about was work, which made it even more amazing when he told her one night that he was in love with her. She had never considered that possibility at all, and looked up at him in amazement, but she had no objections to what he said. In fact, she liked the idea. They made an excellent working team, and she knew he cared about The Factory by then almost as much as she did, and they shared many of the same ideals. He was a man of sound morals and good values. He wasn’t an exciting person, but she could tell that he was a kind man. He walked her home after dinner that night and kissed her for the first time.

  Their courtship wasn’t wild or exciting, he didn’t sweep her off her feet, but she wouldn’t have wanted him to. Olivia was a sensible woman herself, and she preferred the friendship they were building and the easy way they shared whatever was on their minds. Just as she trusted him to handle the money, he was certain that her creative concepts for The Factory were sound, even when they were things that had never been done before. He could see that she was building a model that could serve as a template for many, many stores. Everything she talked about made sense to him, even if it didn’t to someone else. They understood each other perfectly, sometimes even without words.

  And on Valentine’s Day, three months after they had begun dating, he gave her a small diamond ring and asked her to marry him. He had no parents or living family, and all he wanted was to start a life with her. When they told her mother, Maribelle thought it was an excellent idea and she was pleased. Joe Grayson was the perfect man for her daughter. He gave her a solid foundation, and a base she could rely on, while she built her brave new world. Maribelle was thrilled. What Olivia felt for him at first wasn’t girlish or romantic, but it was solid and sure, just like his growing love for her.

  They were married in a small ceremony, six months after they started dating, a year after they had met. He quit his other jobs and came to work at The Factory full time, and he laughed when Olivia turned their honeymoon into a buying trip for the store. He took her to Europe on his meager savings, and they went to England, France, and Italy, and spent the last two days in Denmark, to look at Scandinavian furniture designs. Olivia had placed several orders, and had found some remarkable things. But the most important thing she had found in her lifetime was her relationship with Joe. It was exactly what they needed and grounded them both. It gave Joe a warmth and affection he had never had, and Olivia a solid man she could rely on. Other than Ansel Morris, there had never been a male figure in her life. And she knew Joe was the right one for her.

  Olivia came home from their honeymoon ecstatic about what they’d seen in Europe, and energized by her plans for the store. She was even more excited when the goods they’d ordered began arriving, and opened many of the crates herself. She and Joe went over the new inventory together at night. He was tireless in his desire to help her in every way he could. Things had been going so well that Olivia was dismayed when she began feeling sick. She had no idea what it was, but in a short time she was feeling seriously ill, and Joe was deeply concerned.

  He consulted her mother, and thought Olivia should get to a doctor as soon as possible. He took her to a doctor a friend had recommended in Boston, and Olivia was even more upset when she found out what it was. She had gotten pregnant on their honeymoon, which had not been in her plans. Joe had talked longingly about having children, but they had both agreed that they wanted to wait several years, Olivia thought at least five, until she implemented everything she had in mind for The Factory’s expansion, got the business firmly on its feet, and maybe opened one or two new stores. She had no time for a baby now and cried when she heard the news. She thought a baby would ruin everything. And in spite of his sympathy for her, Joe was utterly and totally thrilled. He couldn’t think of anything more wonderful than having a child with her. Olivia was the woman of his dreams, and he promised to do everything he could to make it as easy as possible for her, and then Maribelle stepped in with an irresistible idea. She said
she was ready to retire and leave the business in their hands. They were both far more knowledgeable than she was anyway, and she had contributed very little to the business in recent years. And Joe had the business end of it in full control. They no longer needed her, except to care for their child.

  Maribelle offered to move in with them and take care of the baby. Olivia was overjoyed at the idea. She knew the baby would be in good hands, and she and Joe could go on working full time. And Joe was insistent that he would do everything he could to help, so that Olivia would be free to work. It was the perfect solution and made having a baby sooner than they planned far less upsetting for her. And Maribelle was thrilled. Taking care of their baby seemed like much more fun to her than working at the store. She’d been doing that for years, and it had outgrown her by leaps and bounds, thanks to Olivia and Joe.

  As far as Olivia was concerned, this was no time for her to stay home. The changes she wanted to implement were crucial to the business and couldn’t wait.

  She worked right up until the last day of her pregnancy, and she and Joe were going over accounts and inventory in the office late at night when her water broke. And for a moment, Olivia was scared. It was happening. It was real. He reassured her immediately, calmed her down, called her mother and the doctor, and drove her to the hospital. He hated to leave her, but they wouldn’t let him attend the birth. Instead, he sat in the waiting room for twelve hours, while Maribelle came to see him from time to time, to let him know how things were going. She said that first babies were always slow, but Olivia was doing well. He was worried sick about her, and hoped it wouldn’t be too hard for her. He was deeply in love with her by then, and excited about their firstborn.

  And for Olivia, it was rougher than she’d planned or known it would be. She would have been even more frightened than she’d already been, if she had known how painful it would be. Phillip weighed just over nine pounds, and she looked exhausted and in pain when Joe saw her at last, moments after the birth. He had never loved her more, and their baby was the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen. They had both cried when they saw him and Joe held the baby for the first time. It seemed like a miracle to him, but to her, it was the hardest thing she’d ever done. But by the next day, she had begun recovering and thought the baby was very sweet. She nursed him for the first few days, and then they switched him to a bottle, so Maribelle would be able to feed him at night. Joe didn’t want Olivia exhausted, and from what he could tell, she had been through enough of an ordeal, and he treated Olivia like hand-blown glass when he took her and the baby home after a week. She insisted that she was feeling fine by then. She was twenty-three years old, and both she and the baby were healthy and strong.