- When I first met the Old Billionaire a few years ago,
he was on top of the world.
-
- The man was rich. Smart. Personable. Powerful. Even happily
married.
-
- In my eyes, he had everything.
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- A few months ago, however, things started to change for
him. The Old Billionaire discovered that Esther, his secretary for lo!
these many years, had embezzled millions of dollars from company accounts.
He was devastated by the betrayal, and his family's reaction made him feel
even worse.
-
- They blamed him for what happened every bit as much as
they blamed her.
-
- In my mind it was an example of the Old Billionaire's
success turning around and biting him in the butt. Those closest to him
were so accustomed to the Old Billionaire getting everything he wanted,
the way he wanted it, that they couldn't see him as a victim, no matter
what had happened.
-
- Even I kept thinking that - somehow - the O.B. was responsible
for what occurred. I was more relieved than worried when he dropped out
of sight, focusing, he said, on "damage control. I need to do whatever
it takes to get the business running smoothly again."
-
- Yesterday he called me. The man who had everything said
he needed to talk to me. We met at K.T.'s Barbecue for a late lunch. The
joint was so crowded it might as well have been primetime. It's been that
way since its reopening after an unexpected twist in the form of an equally
unexpected early spring tornado took out K.T.'s roof. ("The wind just
flew off with it," Allison, K.T.'s owner, explained. "All I could
do was stare and be thankful it wasn't me.")
-
- I chewed my beef sandwich with gusto. The Old Billionaire
picked at his chicken. "Had to make some changes," he said. "I
don't think as fast as I used to. And I get into these ruts so my son
the Harvard Genius takes over as CEO at the end of the year. I'll stay
on as chairman of the board, but he'll be the boss."
-
- "What about your secretary?" I said. "What's
happened with her?"
-
- The Old Billionaire frowned. "We're not filing any
charges. The MBAs think we should keep this as low profile as possible.
The lawyers are working out a restitution plan she can't ever live up to."
-
- "So she gets away with it?"
-
- The Old Billionaire didn't answer. He looked around the
restaurant, and his eyes stopped on a middle-aged couple near the door.
-
- "See those two? Eating and not talking to each other?
When I was a young man seeing a man and a woman being quiet together like
that always made me sad. I'd think, 'Poor things, it's all over for 'em.
Nothing to talk about. Nothing in common. They're just going through the
motions, and maybe remembering what it felt like back when they were in
love.
-
- "Then, one day in a restaurant, after Nettie and
I'd been married about 20 years, I realized we weren't talking much ourselves.
That we almost always ate together silently. And read together silently.
And got into bed together silently, too.
-
- "And I felt so sad about it. So achy, gut-burning
sad. I wanted the joy of love. The rumble-tumble. The wild, crazy flame
-"
-
- He broke off, embarrassed. Then: "Since this thing
with my secretary, the silence has changed. Now Nettie and I don't talk
because we're afraid. She thinks what really happened is that Esther and
I had an affair. In every minute of silence she tells me that. Without
saying a word."
-
- The Old Billionaire looked back at the couple. They were
leaving now, still silent. But holding hands.
-
- "Look at those two," the O.B. said. "They're
not going through the motions, barely remembering love. They know each
other's every feeling, and don't give a hoot for chatter and fire. They've
got friendship and warmth. Who needs to talk when you're one?"
-
- The O.B. sighed. Sipped his sweet tea. "Go ahead,"
he said. "Ask. I need to tell somebody, so ask."
-
- "Were you and Esther having an affair? That why
she thought it was all right for her to do what she did?"
-
- The Old Billionaire's straw made the sound straws make
when they're sipping air. His weathered face paled.
-
- "I sure miss the old silence," he said. "The
friendship. The warmth."
-
- And, like a cry from his soul: "I miss it far more
than I ever missed the fire."
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- Copyright C 2008 by Larry Brody. All rights reserved.
-
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- Author Larry Brody's weekly column, LIVE! FROM PARADISE!
appears on his website, www.larrybrody.com. He has written thousands of
hours of network television, and is the author of "Television Writing
from the Inside Out" and "Turning Points in Television."
Brody is Creative Director of The Cloud Creek Institute for the Arts, the
world's first in-residence media colony. More about his activities can
be seen on www.tvwriter.com and www.cloudcreek.org. He welcomes your comments
and feedback at <mailto:LarryBrody@cloudcreek.org>LarryBrody@cloudcreek.org.
Brody, his wife and their dogs, cats, horses and chickens live in Marion
County, Arkansas. The other residents of the mythical town of Paradise
reside in his imagination.
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