My Journal

By Harriman Nelson

13

While Ron had ‘gone home’ due to his mother calling him about a ‘family emergency’, I still needed to speak with him, and the sooner, the better. Putting any feelings of intrusion aside, I decided to go to the hotel in person, offer condolences and support if need be, but primarily to speak with him about institute policy.

Before I even got close to the hotel's elevators I heard Jessica’s laughter from the bar. And Ronald’s.

“I thought you were supposed to have some kind of emergency,” I said, approaching them.

“I was sick,” Jessica said. “I’m better now.”

“I find that difficult to believe.”

“I assure you," Ron said. "She was throwing up.”

 “Never mind that right now," I said. "Ronald, I need to speak with you.”

 “I heard. Lee’s inspection found some problem in the ballast tanks…okay, so I was wrong about the waste of time.”

“This is about something far more serious. Perhaps we can talk someplace a little more private?”

“You can speak to me in front of my mother.”

“As you wish. First let me say that we both appreciate that you were only trying to help regarding the budget, however, you shouldn’t have said anything about your suspicions regarding Mr. Bates to anyone else. As it turns out, the discrepancy was simply the transfer of certain funds to another account that I’d arranged and the bank hadn’t cleared yet. Frankly I’d forgotten about it. So, apparently, had Lee.”

“No,” I interrupted. “I didn’t fire him. But I should have fired you! You’re lucky we have stopgap measures to insure we don’t act too hastily. Damn it, Ron,” I hissed, “do you have any idea of the harm you caused by gossiping about your suspicions to the staff before we knew the truth? Bates almost quit!”

“Let him. Like I said, you’re better off without him. He’s….”

“He’s an expert accountant, a valued employee! And a friend!”

“That may be, but Father, you can’t run a successful business if you’re hindered by personal feelings getting in the way of efficiency and profit and...”

“I’ve done pretty darn well so far, young man.”

“Look, Dad, I’m sorry I jumped to conclusions but.…”

“No, you look, Mister. What you did was in violation of your terms of employment. You leave me no choice but to place a formal reprimand in your file.  Slander and harassment are grounds for termination! Do any such thing again, and you’ll be walking out the door. Do you understand?”

“Oh for Pete’s sake, you have got to get yourself out of the dark ages. Everyone gossips all the time. You should hear what everyone says behind your back at the water cooler.”

“You accused Bates of being a crook!”

“I may have mentioned what I thought he was up to. I didn't actually call him a crook.”

“What he ‘wasn’t up to, as it turned out,” I corrected,“you do realize, that if he wanted to, he could sue you for slander in civil court. And he’d win.”

“Okay, okay.”

“No, it’s not okay. You will apologize to Mr. Bates, and you will work out your probation period in a different department.”

I pulled out a form and handed it to him.

“I need your signature on this reprimand that you understand the nature of the warning.”

“Cheech, I’m not in kindergarten.”

“Standard procedure. If you refuse, well, you can pick up a severance package and clear out.”

“Do you want me to go?”

“Not particularly. You have potential. I think you simply got a bit carried away. Pride can be a dangerous thing, son.”

“So,” he said after a moment, “where will you send me?”

“HR is checking on available openings as we speak. Now, you’re going with me to Sharkey’s where you will apologize to Bates. Lee’s with him. An apology to Lee is also warranted as well. At least be civil toward him.”

“He’s not civil to me.”

“Only when provoked. I know there will be conflicts between you both, it’s only natural between brothers but….”

“He’s NOT my ‘brother’. I have no blood relationship with him. And I think he’s just jealous that he’s not your ‘number one son’ anymore.”

“Now, you listen to me, young man, and listen well. We two, you and I, may share lineal DNA, but that doesn’t make you my ‘number one son’ as the saying goes. Not in any kind of business or personal sense. Lee has a place in my heart that you haven’t come close to reaching yet. In time you may. I’d like to think that I can come to love you equally, as any good father should. But actions speak louder than words, and so far you have a long way to go in that department. I hope I’ve made myself clear. As your father and as your boss.”

 “Yes, sir, Admiral Father, sir,” he said in mock attention, clicking his heels together.

I grabbed his shoulder, “It’s sarcasm like that that keeps us at a distance.”

“I can’t change what I am, how I feel.”

“Very well,” I said, running a hand through my hair,“but at least try to be polite to Lee. Now, sign the reprimand or it’s over between us. Keep the name if you wish, but you won’t have any place in my life if you don’t sign and agree to my terms. Including that if you ever pull a stunt like walking out of the office with a lie on your lips, there will be no reprieve.”

“Okay, okay,” he said, signing the form.

I wasn’t sure if I was doing the right thing, keeping him on. I could, as CEO override the SOP. But he is my son, and was trying to be a good employee in his own way. Really, he was.

I was laughing with Ron as we entered Sharkey’s. The patrons, mostly institute employees and Seaview crew members on leave with their families and buddies stopped cold, utensils to their mouths as they saw and heard us.

But that wasn’t the only reason they glared at us. Lee and Bates were scowling at us.

“Lee, Ed,” I called out jovially, “glad you’re still here.” Then I nudged Ron.

“Mr. Bates,” he said, loud enough to be heard by all, as we neared their booth, “I have to apologize. I was mistaken about everything, and I took liberties I shouldn’t have. Brother Lee, the same regarding Seaview’s extensive inspection. It won’t happen again.”

“Can we join you, son?” I asked.

“Actually,” Lee said, rising, taking out a wad of cash and placing it on the table, “we were just leaving.”

“Lee,” I said softly as I grabbed his arm gently but he quickly slid out of my grip and left without another word, Ed following him.

“Well, that went well,” Ron said.

“I’ve got a table right over here,” Sharkey said with forced politeness as he approached, wiping his hands on a greasy towel.

“What’s their beef, anyway?” Ron asked me as we followed Sharkey. “I apologized didn’t I?”

I was at a loss for words. It wasn’t like Lee to be so impolite.

“Oh, forget it, Dad. If they didn’t want to accept my apology, they don’t have to. Besides, it’s not like I’m going to have to work with Bates any more. Lee, however, might still be a problem. But I’m sure you’ll work it out. After all, he still has to do what you say, him being the junior partner.”

 “Oh, by the way, Sharkey,” I said, ignoring the comment, as Sharkey handed us our menus, “Ron and I were discussing jet skis and how they might come in useful for some of our missions. You know, getting near to or onto a beach without having to use the zodiacs or flying sub. I prefer yellow, but Ron was thinking the captain might more readily agree to their purchase if they were red. What do you think?”

“Red's nice, but  he might actually prefer black, you know, for those ‘special assignments’, the ones at night. More practical that way. And I wouldn't recommend the yellow at all. Would remind him too much of the lead diver's wetsuit. Mr. Morton teases him about looking like a banana in it.”

We laughed and I pointed to the special.

“I’ll have the Spaghetti,” I said.

“Me too,” Ron said, “with some Chianti for both of us. And extra meatballs.”

“Right away. The skipper liked the special too, had almost three helpings.”

And so we enjoyed our first and second helpings and were on our third. So perhaps Sharkey had told the truth. We discussed the various styles of jet skis, and their long term economy despite the initial cost. Yes, Ron had really done his homework. I almost felt proud of him.

By the time we finished our meal, we’d decided that a fleet of six jet skis would meet our needs, and we stopped by one of the better marine supply shops on the way back to the institute to place the order. 

It was nearly 1430 by the time we got back to NIMR, oops, NCIMR, and HR hadn’t come up with an open position yet, so I advised Ron to take a few personal days before a new position opened up, and I promised it wouldn’t be long  even if I had to invent one. After all, his was only probationary employment, and I could certainly invent something useful as an interim measure.

After Ron left via taxi, I walked over to Lee’s office. Ames was busy with some paperwork, and looked up.

“On the boat,” he said automatically, knowing what I was going to ask. “He did say you were allowing him visitation rights while he’s on leave. Bates is gone for the day.”

“Thank you. Ames, did Lee…er…seem upset when he got back from lunch?”

“Didn’t say anything to me, but he was a little broody.”

And so, here I am back in my office, wondering how I should approach Lee. Do I dare ask him just why he acted the way he did at the diner? Without so much as a goodbye? My mind tells me to just let him pout. That he’ll get over the ill will he must still feel toward Ron despite the apology. But my heart tells me it’s something worse.

God help me.