Rita Brown - Cat of the Century

I want to encourage you. Flos melodic voice was soothing. I just dont think T-shirts are the answer. Many of the alums being brought in will be eighty or older, some of them on a fixed income. Fortunately, thats a small number. Most are solvent. Still, I dont think we should tempt them. The money can come from younger alumnae who will also be attendingthe strong economic base. They, too, want more than a T-shirt.

Aunt Tally loves horses.

And horses are a big part of William Woods, but not every graduate avails herself or himself of the program. Course, the over-eighties are all women. Some actually majored in history. Flo laughed.

She likes to garden.

Hmm. Even a lady of advanced years can pot a plant. I think youve got it. Gloves in one of our colors, with perhaps Tallys birthdate imprinted: March twenty-fifth, 1909. Ill pay for the over-eighty crowd. Each of those women should have a gift.

Thats wonderful. Ill get right on it. Liz paused. Would you like me to clear it with Mariah?

Certainly not. Ill call her.

Flo and Mariah DAngelo had graduated in 1974 and both majored in economics. They cordially loathed each other; always had. Mariah headed the Kansas City chapter, St. Louiss great Missouri urban rival. Both women displayed brilliance and a certain cunning allied with good looks. Both married well in money terms, but in emotional terms it was anybodys guess. But as their husbands were fifty-eight and sixty, respectively, whatever straying they may have done in the past would have been curtailed by the usual lessening of ability in that crucial area of male anatomy.

In their junior years, both Flo and Mariah fell in love with a student, Dick Langston, at Westminster College, the then all-male school across town. Flo married him. Mariah eventually retaliated by marrying the head of a huge construction firm, a man much richer than Dick Langston. He was on the road a great deal, visiting sites. That suited Mariah just fine.

Flo, in one of her typical farsighted moves, bought a ton of stock in the company that would eventually manufacture Viagra. Despite the New Depression, sales kept growing. Plus, her husband benefited from it, so she did, too. She kept this to herself.

She is our treasurer. Liz dug the hole deeper, reminding Flo of why she considered Liz a pest, albeit a brilliant one.

Shes very competent at that. Flo gave credit where credit was due.

I keep meaning to tell you, you were right all along about complex derivatives. I should have listened.

Liz, if I couldnt fully understand complex derivatives, then no one could. I know that sounds arrogant, but there isnt a financial instrument I dont understand. It was all smoke and mirrors. You have got to realizeand I dont know when you willthat the market is not driven by intelligence. In a sense it isnt even driven by greed. Its driven by the male ego. And theyre sheep. Being a woman is a tremendous advantage, because we know when the emperor has no clothes.

A long, mournful pause followed. I know it now.

Are you and Tim in danger? She mentioned Lizs husband.

Things are bad all over, but were hanging in there.

All over, Flo said flatly. Indeed they are.

When do you think it will end? You know, when will the market come back up?

Flo sucked air in through her teeth. I dont know, but it wont be back up when the government predicts it will. I think two more years.

Gawd, Liz moaned. Two years.

Give or take. Flo didnt feel like hearing Liz weep and wail, if she was headed that way. Youve come up with some good products. Youll be fine.

Liz replied, Im learning a lot. Guess we all are. Ive learned a lot from you. Tim, too. We see things for the first time. Youve seen it all before. Helps me put things in perspective.

What Liz never mentioned to Flo or anyone was that one reason their company grew so rapidly was Tims selling skills. Hed learned by selling lemonade as a little kid, then graduated to a newspaper route. In college he sold marijuana and cocaine, investing the proceeds. Like Liz, he worked for a large brokerage firm and soaked up everything. The investments from his college business funded the start of their own brokerage company. Tims selling skills were complemented by Lizs keen judgment on rising and falling companies. Her management abilities completed the picture.

Flo, after thanking Liz for the compliment, then changed the subject. You know, I think of this often. Our alma mater is better managed than most government agencies. And we should thank our lucky stars that Kenneth Lay was not a graduate.

At this they both laughed, for Kenneth Lay, the now deceased head of Enron, had graduated from the University of Missouri, a wonderful state university. Unfortunately for Mizzou, he promised them millions. They based their budget on it and then he bellied up. Mizzou would pull through. But the crisis caused pain that would continue for some years.

When are you arriving? Liz asked.

In time for our first meeting. Its not that far a drivetwo hours

from where we livebut I think Ill come the night before. I hate worrying about time. Gayle Lampe lives on campus, and Ill bunk with her.

Gayle Lampe had been head of Equestrian Studies and had written a book that was the successor to Helen Crabtrees text about Saddle Seat. As Miss Crabtree was the leading light of this type of riding, this was no mean feat.

Youll have a good time. Im coming in a day early, too. Tim wants to be there. Well stay at the bed-and-breakfast.

Be good to see him.

Tim wants to celebrate Tallys big day, and we arent far from her orbit.

Honey, none of us is.

With that, Flo signed off, then dialed Mariah. Flo operated on the theory that if you kiss a toad first thing in the morning, nothing after that kiss will be as offensive. Although it was midday, she considered any contact with Mariah contact with a toad. She laughed to herself that comparing Mariah to a toad was an insult to the toad.

Mariah, Flo here.

The sandpaper voice, deepened with years of assistance from Lucky Strikes and good bourbon, responded, Yes, Flo, what can I do for you?

Liz Filmore has come up with the idea of getting garden gloves imprinted with Tally Urquharts birthday.

A little snort followed. For Gods sake, why?

Listen, Mariah, its better than a T-shirt, and Liz is determined to do it. Shell use her own funds. Flo had not discussed this, but she would call Liz immediately and tell her this was the deal.

In that case, we have nothing to lose.

Indeed.

Im looking forward to the celebration. Ill see you there.

Yes, you will. Icy bitch, Flo thought to herself, then hung up and dialed Liz.

Flo figured if she had one dollar for every call shed made for her alma mater over the years, shed have enough to own five thousand shares of Coca-Cola.

Liz, Flo.

Yes. Did Mariah pitch a fit and fall in it? It wasnt her idea.

Flo let out a whoop. No. But she does insist you pay for the gloves yourself. Of course, youll retrieve your money from the sales, so well have to keystone the price. And as I said, Ill pay for the over-eighties and special mementos.

Keystoning meant doubling the wholesale cost of an item. So if the gloves cost eleven dollars, they would be sold for twenty-two. It was standard retail practice. Therefore, even if items were discounted thirty percent, there would still be a profit.

I intended to pay for the gloves. Should have said so up front. Thanks again for your generosity. About keystoning, let me find out about the cost. I might have to drop it back a bit, but there will be profit.

Net profitthe two most beautiful words in the English language, Flo purred.

Was she herself?

She was, but in check. Shes sharp, sharp, sharp when it comes to money, and she watches our treasury like a hawk. She paused, A hawk who wears far too much gaudy jewelry from her expensive store.