More Than Words

“Old recipe,” Nina said, “with new flair.”

Tim looked surprised but didn’t say anything more.

Nina picked up a forkful of salad, her mind still on the conversation she’d had with the head of marketing. Jeff had told her he’d been hoping to increase their social media presence and their ad buys in a handful of key markets, but his request had been denied. She wasn’t going to suggest any changes to TJ yet but wanted to know what each department would want, if they could have anything. Some of the items seemed easy to provide. But she knew that nothing in business was ever as simple as it seemed at first glance. Changing the soap in the bathrooms, for example, meant negotiating a whole new partnership, perhaps new costs. Research into that company to make sure they weren’t using child labor to make their soap into the shape of hearts or donating to lobbyists who were working to deregulate waste management. And even as she was trying to think about that, in the back of her mind she kept seeing her father, cheating on her mother. Indirectly causing her death. She couldn’t get it out of her head.

“So how was your day?” Tim asked.

Nina shrugged. “Busy. Interesting. Vaguely destabilizing.”

“Destabilizing how?” Tim asked, getting up and taking a bottle of Cabernet out of Nina’s wine rack.

“I guess . . . I don’t know,” Nina said, trying to get her feelings to cohere into sentences. “I realized today that there are business decisions my dad made that I might’ve made differently. And when things like that happened in the past, especially when it had to do with the company, I’d just assumed he was right and I was looking at things the wrong way. But I think . . . I think there are some things he could have done better. And I’m not sure why he didn’t see that. I would have expected him to.” Nina took a sip of the wine Tim had poured her.

“Nobody’s perfect,” Tim said. “But your dad was great. He took what his father started and made it even more successful. Do you know how many people in your father’s position would’ve just coasted on what already existed—or even worse, run it into the ground? You see it all the time.”

Nina took another sip, letting the flavor settle on her tongue. “That might be true,” she said. “But it’s about more than his business success. It’s what we found out up in the country, too. And now I feel like—I was anchoring myself, my life, to a rock that wasn’t as solid as I thought it was.”

That was really what had been bothering her most. Her father wasn’t the man she’d thought he was. She had created a version of him that, in this moment, felt imaginary. Like the Great and Powerful Oz. Or the Emperor without any clothes. And not only had the “real” Joseph Gregory, the one who was so much more flawed than she ever knew, been hidden from her, but now she’d never have the chance to know him.

“Well, you can anchor yourself to me,” Tim said, smiling. “I’m the most solid rock around.”

Nina had to force herself to smile back. That wasn’t what she’d meant at all.

* * *

• • •

Later that night, Nina and Tim were in bed. Nina had just put her phone away, but not before seeing that Rafael had texted to ask how she was doing, to see if she wanted to get together for coffee. She put him off but couldn’t bring herself to say no. She didn’t want to think about what the reason was, especially not when Tim was here in her bed. Not when they were supposed to spend the rest of their lives together. Not when she was afraid to let herself go around him, to tell him what she wanted. Not when their relationship felt like it was changing, had been changing, in a way she didn’t quite understand.

47

The next morning, the doorman called up from downstairs. It was TJ Calder, there to see her. Nina was worried he was coming by because of the conversations she’d been having with all of the department heads. She hadn’t spoken to him yet. She felt too weird about the fact that she would basically be his boss. It would be like telling her father what to do. Incomprehensible. Impossible.

“Nina, Sweetheart,” he said when the elevator door opened. He looked better than he had the last time she’d seen him. His eyes weren’t swollen, his face didn’t seem as hollow. “How are you?”

“I’ll be okay,” she said. It was how she’d decided to answer that question. It was the truth, and also didn’t invite more discussion.

TJ sat down at the island in the middle of Nina’s kitchen. “I brought muffins,” he said, placing a bag on the counter in front of him. “Apple cranberry’s your favorite, right?”

“It is,” she said. And then she found herself getting choked up. TJ knew that about her. He’d remembered. It was like having a second dad. A bonus, a backup. Maybe he could retire. And then she wouldn’t have to be his boss. After she married Tim, she could just be his daughter. Maybe she should talk to Tim about that. She opened the bag of muffins and brought some napkins over from the pantry.

TJ took a lemon–poppy-seed muffin and rested it on a napkin in front of him. “I’ve been trying to stave them off, but the board of directors would really like to meet with you. I came in person because your dad would want me to impress upon you how important this is.”

Nina thought about the last time she’d planned to meet with the board. Her meltdown. She was afraid to put herself in front of them until she was more sure of herself, more sure of the business. “Can’t I take another week?” Nina asked. She was unwrapping her muffin, not looking at TJ. She needed to figure out what she wanted to do. And that meant with TJ, too.

“This week would be better. There’s a lot of talk about what’s going to happen to the company now that your father’s gone. It would be helpful if you held a meeting. I’ll be there with you. I can limit it to fifteen minutes. Twenty tops.”

Nina massaged her temples. “Okay,” she said. “I’ll try for Friday.” Even though she knew she wasn’t likely to be ready by then.

“That sounds good,” TJ said. “You remember Ned? He’s been grumbling about having an investment banker evaluate strategic options.”

She knew what that meant. The board was thinking about trying to convince her to sell her majority stake in the company.

Nina felt herself physically recoil. It was a gut instinct. Intuitive. “I’m not selling,” she said immediately. “That’s my family’s company. That’s my name. No one else can have it.”

Then she heard TJ sigh. “I know,” he said. “But are you ready to run it?”

“I will be soon,” Nina said. “Maybe you and I can sit down tomorrow and talk about your vision for the company. The next three years. Five.” Maybe he would tell her that he wanted to retire, now that her father was gone. Then she wouldn’t have to bring it up.

TJ sighed. “I know you’re capable of running it, Nina. And I know your father expected you to, but I’m going to ask you something he never would: Do you want to?”

She was supposed to. That was what she knew. It was her responsibility. A job she was born to do. The future she’d always known she would have. And she’d accepted it. She expected it. It was part of who she was.

“Just think about it,” TJ said, getting up to give Nina a hug. “I have to go to the office.”

She hugged him back and insisted he take the rest of his muffin with him, wrapping it up in tinfoil. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” she said.

“Call Rita,” he told her. “She’ll find time in my schedule.”

“Oh wait,” Nina said. “Before you go. I was flipping through the financials my father gave me. From 2008 to 2011 there’s a $60,000 fee paid to a consulting firm each month. Manxome Consulting? Do you have their reports? I’m curious to see what they said about the business. They don’t seem to have a website.”

An expression Nina couldn’t name crossed TJ’s face. “I’m not sure where they are,” he said. “I’ll look into it and let you know if I can locate them.”

“Thanks, Uncle TJ,” she answered.

“Of course.” He tightened the scarf around his neck before heading to the door.

After she saw him out, Nina went back to the balance sheets. She wondered if her dad had chosen the firm because they’d named themselves after “Jabberwocky.”

Whether or not running the Gregory Corporation was something she wanted to do, it was something she was going to do, and at least for now, that was enough.

48

Three weeks had passed since her father had died and even though on one hand it had felt like no time, on the other hand it was getting harder for Nina to remember the exact timbre of his voice and the specific feel of his hands on hers. Her emotions weren’t quite as raw, quite as ready to erupt at the strangest moments. And her brain was starting to function again at its usual speed. She felt like she could reenter the world.

Nina picked up the newspaper from her breakfast table. There was an article on Rafael. He was planning to march in the Village Halloween parade at the end of the month, about a week before Election Day. She wondered how everyone at the campaign was doing. Whether she should stop by and say hello. To Jane, who’d been texting every few days to see how Nina was. To Jorge, who maybe would do his touchdown dance if she asked. To Rafael, who had texted her a few more times, offering to talk, to meet up. She had responded enough to be polite but still hadn’t made any concrete plans. Instead she ran along the Hudson River, with breaks to admire the bravery of the people taking trapeze lessons on Pier 40. She spent hours wondering what the hell her father was thinking when he cheated on her mother, spent a few more debating with Tim as to whether or not they should ask his parents what they knew about the affair. And now Tim was asking her when she thought it might be the right time to tell everyone else about their engagement.