Vivian paid none personally.
The trust did.
She had to learn that approving a trust expense was not generosity.
It was administration.
That distinction irritated her.
Useful.
The first board meeting after Nathaniel’s death was worse.
Vivian sat at the head of the Carter & Sons conference table.
Patricia beside her.
Thomas Greene represented Naomi’s trust.
The employee trustee was chosen by staff vote.
Mr. Isaiah Bell, sixty-two, who had worked as a driver and attendant for Nathaniel since 1948.
Vivian looked at him.
“You?”
He smiled.
“Apparently people like me.”
“You complain constantly.”
“Representation.”
Patricia laughed.
Vivian did not.
Then did.
The board’s first conflict concerned replacing the oldest limousine.
Vivian wanted a new Cadillac.
Thomas Greene questioned cost.
Vivian immediately heard Ruby’s voice in his mouth.
“You represent an eight-year-old and now you know vehicle operations?”
Thomas remained calm.
“I represent a trust holding eighteen percent of this company.”
“That trust benefits from us looking respectable.”
“Does respectability require the top trim package?”
Isaiah Bell coughed to hide a laugh.
Vivian glared.
Eventually they bought the cheaper Cadillac.
It performed exactly the same.
Vivian hated that fact for years.
Naomi and Lillian returned to school.
Children were brutal in the efficient way adults underestimated.
Somebody’s mother had heard about the funeral argument.
By Monday, a girl in Naomi’s class asked:
“Are you really a Carter?”
Naomi shoved her.
The school called Ruby.
Ruby called Vivian.
Not because she expected Vivian to fix it.
Because the rumor came from family.
Vivian drove to the school.
Ruby stared when she arrived.
“I did not ask you to come.”
“I know.”
“What are you doing?”
“Correcting something.”
Vivian met the principal.
Then Naomi’s teacher.
No grand speech.
She simply said:
“Naomi Carter is Nathaniel Carter’s granddaughter and my niece.”
“If adults have carried private family matters into this school, I would appreciate staff stopping it.”
The principal nodded.
Naomi stood outside the office listening.
On the way out, she stared at Vivian.
“Your niece?”
“Yes.”
“You mean it?”
Vivian stopped.
Children deserved precise answers too.
“Yes.”
Naomi thought.
“Did you not mean it at funeral?”
Vivian closed her eyes.
Ruby looked away.
Vivian crouched.
“I was angry at grown people.”
“I used words that made you think my anger was about you belonging.”
“That was wrong.”
Naomi stared.
“Were you mad at Daddy?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Vivian took time.
“He left me with work.”
Naomi frowned.
“He died.”
“Before that.”
Vivian smiled sadly.
“He left the business.”