Georgie Girl Ch 10 12

This story was edited by ErikThread and DaveT with my thanks and appreciation. Any errors are mine alone. Previously posted on another site.

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Chapter 10 Sanity Prevails

It took a couple of days before normalcy returned to the home. Sarah was badly shaken up by the events and it took all of Thomas's personal skills to help her get over the trauma. Georgette was more resilient. After all, she'd been through this before. Nan acted as if nothing had happened. It was as if she'd swatted a pesky fly.

She had shot Bradley in the lower abdomen and crotch. He was fortunate that he was wearing fairly heavy pants and they absorbed some of the bird shot pellets. But not all of them. He was under guard in hospital before being moved to the San Francisco lockup. Three more serious charges were added to the already long list. This time there would be no bail.

The city police questioned us all individually and took the pistol and shotgun as evidence. There was some talk of Nan violating an ordinance about discharging a firearm within the city, but Devon reminded the district attorney's office that this was an election year and the fallout from trying to prosecute a seventy-nine year old woman for defending herself and her family would go over like a lead balloon. Once the police had confirmed Bradley Little's track record with the Placer County sheriff's department, the issue was dropped.

"You handled that 410 like an old pro," I said to Nan that weekend. We were sitting on the back deck once more and Nan was enjoying a Tequila Sunrise while I had my usual Anchor Steam.

"I've shot it a time or two. Usually just to get rid of pests. Crows and stray cats and the like. It doesn't have much of a kick and I don't shoot to kill, just to scare them off."

"It looked to me that you shot just where you were aiming," I suggested.

"Of course I did. I couldn't miss at ten feet. I didn't want to kill him, just knock him down so you could take the gun away from him. The look on your face told me you were about to jump him. I figured I'd better take him down before someone got shot, even accidentally. He didn't look too steady with that gun."

"I couldn't let him take Georgette. I had to take the risk, but you saved the day, Nan. You are one amazing lady," I smiled, hugging her to me.

"We had family to protect, Johnny. Family comes first ... always."

"Yeah. Always."

Bradley had been released from the hospital but was held in custody in San Francisco, facing an attempted murder charge to go along with his other crimes. There would be no bail since he had violated his bail conditions in Placer County.

"He didn't look anything like the Bradley I knew," Georgette said sadly. "I almost didn't recognize him. I wonder how he knew we were on the deck?"

"He probably heard voices if he was sneaking around the front," I said. "Kind of a risky thing, considering it was daylight still. I have a feeling he's deteriorated since we last saw him. Not just his appearance, but his mental state. I wouldn't be surprised if they sent him to a full security mental hospital for a while. He sure as hell won't get better in prison."

"As long as they keep him locked up and away from us," Georgette said. "I've stopped caring about what happens to him. I know I didn't love him, but he was my husband for a while. But ... now ... I just don't care. He threatened the people I love and I won't forgive that. Not ever!"

"I can't imagine he will be out on his own for a long time, Dear" I suggested. "I think we can finally say we've seen the last of him."

"You mind if an old girl joins you?" Nan's voice came from behind us.

"Not at all," I answered quickly. "Annie Oakley is always welcome in this group."

"Very funny," she said with a frown which quickly turned into a smile.

"John, there's something I wanted to show you. Would you and Georgie come with me?"

I looked at Georgette and she shrugged, indicating she didn't know what this was about. Nan led the way across the shallow yard toward her garage. I saw her take a small black device out of her slacks pocket as we walked around the garage toward the lane. As we arrived at the front, I could see the garage door was lifting and revealing a dust-laden fitted cover over a large object.

Georgette was squeezing my arm and had a mile-wide smile on her kisser. She knew what this was. We carefully removed the dusty shroud from what turned out to be a very large car. As we took the cover outside and hung it over the fence, I turned back to see what we had revealed. It was a red convertible, and it was in what appeared to be very new condition. Except, it was not a new car.

"This is Cleopatra's Barge," Nan announced. "My husband Harlan named it that when he got it fifty-seven years ago. It's a 1953 Buick Roadmaster Convertible. We had some great times just cruising around with the top down back in those days. Two years before he passed, he had it all updated and repainted to make it just like new, only better. The top is new, the tires and other things that tend to rot are new. I have a list of all the things that were fixed or changed on it.

"It'll take a few hours to get it running again, but when it is, it will be my engagement gift to you two. I can't drive it ... I couldn't even when I was young. It was just too much car for me. But I'd like to see you two lovebirds enjoying it just like my Harlan intended. I don't want to see it in my garage like this any more. I want to see it out on the road."

I was stunned. We were stunned. The car, what we could see of it, was beautiful. Painted what I called fire-engine red in color, with white, gray and red upholstery, and huge whitewalls on wire spoke wheels. It was amazing with its sleek, swooping chrome strip arcing down to the rocker panel in front of the rear wheel, then following the wheel opening up before running straight to the tail lights.

The fabric top was an off white and the dust cover had protected it from getting dirty or moldy. As much as I could see inside the cabin, it was completely restored with electric windows, a power top, an automatic transmission and a radio. I had never seen one of these before and I was fascinated. I would love to have seen it in the sunlight, but for now there was no way to move it.

"I don't know what to say, Nan. This is too much. You and the family have been so generous to me ... to my family ... that we feel overwhelmed. I just don't know what to say."

"Say 'thank you,' Darling," Georgette crooned in my ear. "It's something you're just going to have to get used to. One of these days, you and I will sit down with Nan and she'll tell you how all this came about. It's an amazing story, and I'm hoping a hundred years from now, the name John Smith will be a big part of that story."

I really didn't have any sense of just how wealthy the two families were that I was involved with. It must be substantial, and yet they didn't live like kings. Oh, true, the house was a magnificent tribute to a bygone era, but they lived relatively modest lives. No servants, no really exotic toys except the lodge, but the underpinnings of the families spoke of financial security for some time to come. That was the difficult part for me. They were generous and thankful and welcoming to me and I didn't know how to handle it.

"Nan, this is a rare gift. It will be treated with the love your late husband felt for it and you. I will make sure it remains in the family and is kept in the condition he would have expected. Thank you," I said, embracing her and kissing her cheek.

"Georgie-Girl, this young man is going to be a winner. I can feel it in my bones. You've caught a rare one here."

"I already know that, Nan. We're going to make sure this family continues to thrive. Who knows, if we have three children, one might be a lawyer, one a venture capitalist, and one an inventor. How would that suit you?"

"If I live long enough to see those three great-grandchildren, I'll be a very happy woman," she said brightly.

"Well, we aren't going to waste a lot of time getting started, are we Darling?" she turned to me.

"I've been given my instructions, Nan. I know my duty. I'm sure you'll be around long after you're able to bounce the youngest on your knee."

"That's my boy! I know you two will make some beautiful babies."

***

The car had been stored properly and it only took a few hours to refill the fluids, re-inflate the tires, recharge the battery, and vacuum the last of the dust off. When I looked over the list of modifications, I saw that the electrics had been upgraded to twelve volt from six, the brakes upgraded to oversized but still drum, and the tires were made of modern material but in the proper period size and style, complete with wide whitewalls.

When the mechanic started it and let it idle for a minute or so, it ticked over so quietly I had to approach it to be sure it was running. He backed it out of the garage and I rode with him as he brought it around to the front of the house and parked it carefully at the curb. I got out of it and walked away to get a good look at it. It was magnificent.

It immediately attracted a crowd who wanted to know all about it and for most of them, what it was. And what was it? It was a fifty-seven year old icon of American pride and achievement. It had style and grace and said the owner was a success. I couldn't wait to drive it and have Georgette by my side, the top down, the wind in our hair, an object of envy and admiration as we rolled along.

I spent several hours cleaning out Nan's garage and making more room for the Buick. The owner's manual was in the glove box and said that this was a Buick Roadmaster Skylark. The manual itself was a piece of history. To me, the most striking feature on the car was the grill. When I found the time, I looked up the car on the Internet and learned more about it, but to me, the reality was the steel and rubber and fabric that I could touch and sit on and experience.

Devon and Thomas were delighted that the car was back on the road. Devon was too young to remember it, but he and Thomas had the same impression of it as I did. This was something special to be treasured and protected. There was no way it was going to be sitting in some supermarket parking lot to be the target of some careless person's shopping cart. This was a car for special occasions, like a wedding for instance.

***

I had finished my final examinations and I was reasonably confident in the results. It was time to head for Coeur d'Alene with Georgette. The Buick would stay in the garage and we would rely on the BMW to get us to my home. We said our goodbyes to everyone bright and early on a Wednesday morning and set off for northern Idaho.

We pushed hard that first day, spelling each other off every two hours. We stopped in Bend, Oregon for the night and got another early start the next morning. We arrived at the Lakeside Motor Inn just before three on Friday afternoon. The first person I saw was my father carrying his tool box toward the office. I honked the horn and he turned to see who it was. He didn't recognize the car right away, but a moment later he waved, put down the box and waited for us to park.

"Hey, Dad. Good to see you. Still doing my job, huh," I kidded as we hugged and then shook hands.

Georgette got a warm hug and a kiss on the cheek as we walked to the office to greet Mom.

"John! Welcome home," Mom gushed, grabbing me in a big hug and giving me a kiss. "And Georgette ... so good you could spend some time here too," Mom repeated her greeting, complete with a hug and a kiss.

We would be staying in my old room in the main building and Dad helped me with our luggage and getting organized. There was no pretense that we weren't sleeping together.

My brother Jared walked in and grabbed me and hugged me too.

"I heard you got in some trouble this time," he said, casting a glance at Georgette. "If this is the lady you were with, then it was worth it. Hi, I'm Jared, John's brother."

"Hi Jared, I'm Georgette Fulton, your brother's soon-to-be fiancée."

"Say, John," my mother butted in, "just when will we see Georgette's ring?"

"Soon, Mom, soon. We haven't gone shopping yet, but we'll deal with it this weekend I hope," I said, looking at my future bride.

"Good answer," Georgette grinned, wrapping her arm around mine.

I had already decided that the money I had been saving for a car was best put toward a ring. With Georgette's car and the Buick in reserve, I really wasn't desperate for transportation.

"Is there any more information about the trial?" Dad asked.

"The trial was scheduled for June 18th in Placer County Court," I said, "but Bradley has been arraigned in San Francisco on the attempted murder charge. I doubt they will surrender him to Tahoe. If there's going to be at trial, it will be in San Francisco," I told him.

"What the heck was he thinking?" Dad asked.

"That's what no one can understand," Georgette answered. "We think he's going to self-destruct, but I guess we'll know when it happens. His father is trying to get him committed for a psychiatric examination. He's obviously not in his right mind."

"Is it true your grandmother shot this guy?" Jared asked in amazement.

Georgette nodded. "We had surveillance on him, but he slipped by it and showed up at our house, waving a gun around. He was threatening to take me and kill John. Nan, my grandmother, had a small shotgun and when he started to point the gun at her, she shot him. It didn't kill him, but that was the end of the threat and they put him in the hospital under guard, and then back to jail."

"I was surprised how much power that little 'peashooter' had," I said. "It stopped him cold."

"That's two too many narrow escapes you've had, John," my father said. "I hope we've seen the last of them. They've taken a lot out of your mother and me, much less what they must have done to you and Georgette's family."

"You won't get an argument from me, Dad. That's twice I wondered if I was going to live to see the next day and I don't want to repeat any of it."

"By the way, Thomas phoned last night to tell you to check your e-mail. There should be a message from Dow Chemical on it."

"Oh ... good. I'm hoping that's the answer to my request for technical support on my project. I'd better check it right away."

Dad had installed wireless for all the guests and ourselves, so with a quick trip to our room, I pulled out my laptop and opened it. In a few seconds I was logged on and checking my e-mail account. It was there, a message from rlyman.techserv@filmtec.corp. I opened it.

Good news. We have a go! Let me know when you can be in Midland for a development mtg. Best time is last half of August.

Regards, Rex

"Woohoo!" I shouted. I had my first partner. That brought Georgette, Dad and Jared to the room.

"I'm in. They want to set up a meeting for late August to start development. I'll have to go to Michigan to meet with them, but it's a start. I guess my presentation got their attention after all."

"Congratulations, John," my father said with obvious pride. "This is turning out to be quite a year for you."

"John," Georgette gushed, "I'm so proud of you. This is just the beginning."

"Nice going, bro," Jared added, "whatever it is you are doing." He laughed.

"It's no big deal," I assured him. "I'm just turning lead into gold."

Mom was equally happy and I called Thomas, Sarah and Nan to let them know as well. Thomas had made the meeting with Dow possible and I wanted to keep him fully informed, just as he had asked. Never disappoint a venture capitalist when you're in the invention business.

A phone call came the following week.

"John, it's Devon desBiens calling. You can stop worrying about the trial. It's been called off. Bradley Little has had a complete breakdown while in custody in San Francisco. His father has had him committed for psychiatric evaluation and there is little doubt he will be found unfit to stand trial."

"Oh ... that's great news. I mean, for us. I'm sure Mr. Little senior is relieved too. Can I assume there's no need for us to concern ourselves with the Tahoe City trial?"

"That's a pretty safe assumption. I've contacted the county attorney and he's confirmed they won't be prosecuting him unless San Francisco chooses for forego the charges against him. Trust me, that isn't going to happen. I'm sure you'll be getting a letter to that effect from both jurisdictions."

"I hope so. I don't want to have to go through anything like that ever again."

"Say hello to everyone for me and have a great summer."

"Yes ... of course, Devon. Thank you again. Goodbye."

I relayed the information to Georgette and my family and there was a collective sigh of relief.

"Does this mean it's finally over?" my mother asked.

"Yes," I said. "He's not going to be out of someone's care for a long, long time."

"I assume Uncle Devon will tell Mother and Father," Georgette suggested. "I'm sure they'll be just as relieved."

"This calls for an Alpha," Dad said with a grin.

"What's an Alpha?" my fiancée asked.

"It's one of our local beers," Dad explained. "The Laughing Dog Brewery is just north of us near Sandpoint. We like to support the local businesses. Alpha Dog India Pale Ale is the proper name. Around here it's just known as Alpha."

"What about wineries for us girls," Georgette asked with a grin.

"Plenty of those too," Mother said. "Would you care for a nice local Malbec? Or perhaps a Pinot Gris?"

"I think the white would suit me," she replied.

***

We were sitting on the deck of the inn, overlooking the lake. I was watching Georgette sneaking looks at the ring on her left hand. We had chosen it last Saturday and picked it up yesterday after it had been sized. She couldn't seem to take her eyes off it. She had seen it in the jewelry store counter display and immediately knew it was the one for her. I don't think the whole transaction took thirty minutes from the time we walked into the store until we left.

"John, would you show me your presentation that you made to Dow?"

"Uhhm ... yeah ... sure. It's kind of technical."

"That's all right. I'd like to know more about it ... I mean ... it's so important to you that I'd like to know what it is going to do and how."

I looked at her and there was no doubt her request was serious. Actually, I was pleased. I didn't expect her to be that interested in my work, but it seemed she was.

"Why don't we look at it after dinner?" I suggested.

"Good," she smiled, then gave me a nice warm kiss.

She surprised me once again when we sat down to see my presentation on the laptop. She had a pencil and a notepad with her.

"There's no quiz at the end, you know," I kidded.

"I might have some questions, though," she said with a raised eyebrow.

I went through the presentation, occasionally simplifying some of the commentary so that it didn't become too complicated for her. I watched her make some notes and several had question marks beside them. I let her decide when to interrupt.

"What do you do with the gunk you take out of the water at the filters?" she asked as I finished.

"It's collected in self-contained disposable containers, then it's either dumped or incinerated. Depends on if it's toxic or just ... gunk," I chuckled.

"So, what Dow makes is the filters, right?"

"Yes. That's a critical part of the equipment. We aren't just removing solids from the water, but other contaminates as well. Chemicals that are found in nature and some that are man-made. There are four steps to the process, but not all of them are required for every situation: filtration, absorption, chemical disinfection, and ultra-violet purification. Filtration is the most technically demanding and that's why I need Dow's help."