Chapter 7 - THE ORIGINAL OWNER
The first time I saw Eleanor Price, my mother nearly fell down.
Eleanor entered Andrew Keller’s conference room wearing a dark green coat and black gloves.
Seventy-two.
White hair.
Straight posture.
She placed a photograph on the table.
My father.
Mom.
Marjorie.
Eleanor.
All four outside the first Bennett Foods warehouse.
“I gave Robert the initial capital,” Eleanor said.
“My father said he started the company with a bank loan.”
“He did.”
She smiled faintly.
“After my money.”
The original ownership agreement showed:
Robert Bennett — 40%.
Eleanor Price — 35%.
Diane Bennett — 15%.
Marjorie Bell — 10%.
I looked toward Mom.
“What happened to Eleanor’s thirty-five?”
“She sold.”
Eleanor answered immediately.
“No.”
“You signed the transfer.”
“No.”
“You took the settlement.”
“I took part of what you offered.”
Mom stood.
“You abandoned the business.”
“You removed me from it.”
The transfer document appeared.
Signature:
ELEANOR PRICE
Eleanor laid a verified signature from the same year beside it.
Different.
The pattern was almost obscene.
A questionable old stock transfer.
My forged modern proxy.
A woman removed from ownership.
Then another generation doing the same thing.
Eleanor looked at Mark.
“Your sister-in-law didn’t invent forged paperwork.”
Then at my mother.
“He inherited a solution.”
Mom’s composure broke.
“You slept with Robert!”
Silence.
Eleanor did not deny it.
“Yes.”
I stared at her.
“Did you know he was married?”
“Yes.”
That mattered.
Eleanor did not become a saint just because Diane may have cheated her financially.
She had betrayed my mother personally.
Mom may have betrayed her economically.
Both could be true.
Eleanor said exactly that.
“I was wrong about Robert.”
Then she looked at Mom.
“Diane was wrong about my shares.”
Marjorie closed her eyes.
I suddenly understood why my family had spent decades describing complicated women with simple words.
Thief.
Unstable.
Greedy.
May you like
Difficult.
Simple labels kept anyone from asking complicated questions.
