Accounting for the Rest of Us

Gariton Hollander keyed it in.  His fingers flying across the keyboard, entering data into the system for Gator Paper Mill, the mill owned by Reggie Crowley and family.  It was always a hard slog of poorly described financial transactions, many of which Gariton suspected were personal in nature.  But every time he called Reggie Crowley's financial director to get an explanation, he wound up more confused.  He would take them to Huston Graves Sr., the firm's senior partner, and he would always get some explanation why ballet lessons for the grand-daughter, or pay-per-movies, or trips to Belk's department store, were all natural business expenses.  Gariton had given up for the most part, put some questionable expenses in suspense, and presented them to Houston Sr. all at one time.  Other expenses that he was certain were personal, Gariton was just taking straight to draw.

Gariton had come to work early, after an abbreviated breakfast at the Honey Dew.  He shared a breakfast table with Andy Caldwell, the State Farm agent, and Tony Delco, who worked at his Daddy's furniture store.  Houston Graves Jr.  did not show up for breakfast, usually starting his day with a morning run, and Rondy Strickland was not in town.  In fact, lawyer Rondy Strickland was on a special business trip to Florida on some sort of Compton Park development business.  Business that somehow also involved his wife, Christie Delco Hollander.  It may him a little nervous hat Christie was off with Rondy, who was a bit of a wolf.  Actually, it made him a lot nervous.  But she explained that it was an important trip in relation to the Compton Park project which her Daddy had invested so heavily in, and they needed her marketing sweet to complement Rondy's legal sour.

Gariton heard some shouting coming from Houston Grave Sr.'s office.  Houston Sr.  was in there with Archie Crowley, Reggie Crowley's brother.  Reggie was the richest man in the county, owner of the Gator Paper mill, and Archie was his estranged brother.  They barely spoke to each other.  Archie was excluded from the mill when their father, Kevin Reginald Crowley died, but was still given about the same amount of money and resources as his brother, Reggie.  Archie was a bad businessman, with a cruel streak that did not always serve him well.  He got by now with some broken down rental houses he did little to keep up, a used car lot and a storage rental place.  He was always coming up with schemes that even Houston Graves Sr. could not stomach.  Gariton imagined that might be what was going on now, that Houston Sr. had to crush one of Archie's fouler schemes.

Houston Jr.  came from his morning run, wearing sweats, but still looking like a million dollars.  Tall, thin and athletic, he was the firm's junior partner and son of Houston Graves Sr.  He worked fairly hard at what he did, but did not seem to have the taste for it that his father did.  He stopped by Gariton's office, his breathing still a little intense from his run.

"Good lord!" exclaimed Houston Jr.  "Is that Archie in there with Dad?  He is on fire today, isn't he?"

"I suppose so," Gariton answered. "Maybe Archie wants to rent his storage units by the hour."

Houston laughed.  "It may not be the best time to tell him my news, then."

"What news is that?" Gariton asked.

"Daddy Delco has offered me a job heading the Compton Park development.  He feels like it's to the point where it needs a full time administrator.  And if it succeeds like everyone is hoping, than it might be a real sweet permanent position."

This had Gariton puzzled.  It might seem to an outsider that Gariton was stuck in a dead end job, with no chance for promotion in a firm run by father and son.  But Gariton didn't mind.  It gave him to participate in theatre and read.  He didn't mind accounting,  particularly clients that weren't that well off, but struggling and needed help to organize better and become more efficient with their resources.. But forty to fifty hours a week of it (and a bit more during tax season) was enough.  "That sounds interesting, Houston.  But what about your job here?"

Houston Jr. shrugged it off.  "Oh, Dad knows I'm only here until I can find something I like more.  I really want to create my own businesses and opportunities, and this is a great way to get into all that."

"Okay.  But I thought Compton Park was mired in environmental problems.  I though it was years away from clearing, if ever."

Houston Jr. smiled.  "Oh, we're getting that cleared up, don't worry about that.  That's part of what Rondy and your wife are doing down in Florida, don't cha know?"  Houston Jr. suspected what the other part of what Rondy and Christie were doing, but he kept that to himself.

The door of Houston Sr.'s office came open with a tremendous force, and Archie came out fuming.  "Damn it, Houston!  I trusted you!  I know it was a chance taking my business to the same place my brother craps on, but I though you were always square with me!"

Houston Sr.  trailed him out, hoping to calm Archie down.  "I have always been straight with you, Archie.  You and your brother are separate clients to me, and I don't breach either of your confidences.  That's why I do all of your work personally."  Actually, Gariton knew that wasn't true.  Just like he did the work of Reggie's paper mill, Houston Jr., not Sr., did much of Archie's entry work.  And often even that was given to one of the bookkeepers, Mathilda Evans or Wanda Johnson.  But the client didn't need to know that.

"Really?  A busy man like yourself?  Why, I am truly honored!" said Archie, sneering.  He then whispered in Huston Sr.'s ear, but in such a way that Gariton could still hear.  "Then you better help find a way into that Compton Park gold mine.  I ain't gonna be left out of another big thing in this town."

Houston Sr. nodded solemnly.  "I'll see what I can do, Archie."

"Good.  You do that."  Archie grabbed his jacket and hat and huffed out.  Houston Jr.  started towards his father's office.  "Dad, you can't let that maniac anywhere near the project.  He'll ruin it for sure!"

Houston Sr.  pulled the door of his office shut as his son came in.  "Don't worry, son.  That's the last thing I'm going to let happen."

And Gariton heard no more of that conversation.  He plunged back into the convolutions that were the Gator Paper mill's bookkeeping, and tried to keep his mind off of what could happen if Houston Jr. left.  Instead he thought of Christie, and how wonderful it would be to have her back.  He would fix her favorite meal, Chicken Marsala, and they would have dinner by candlelight.  Maybe later, undress her by the same candlelight.

Something to look forward to.