James Thurber, 1940
Her client passed his table.
"Hello Frank, nice to see you."
Frank didn't even look up. A deep scowl furrowed the face he buried in his menu. He ignored her completely, not a word.
"What was that all about?" Gerry asked, sitting down and unfolding his napkin. "That was bizarre."
"Oh, it's a long story," Kimberley grinned. "It's 23 years now. But I keep hoping."
"I've never seen anything like it. Who is he, a jilted lover? Does he owe you money? What? Come on, you can't just let this one go by."
"It's really a silly story, Gerry, and I'm not particularly proud of it."
"I've got time."
"Let's order first."
When the waiter left, Gerry leaned toward her. "Okay, Kim, my curiosity run over. Who is he? Why is he?"
And Kimberley began. "Well, you see, it's like this. Twenty-three years ago, I was a summer intern at Frank's bank. He managed the program, hired me, and was coach and confessor to us all. 'Just blend in,' he preached. 'Nobody expects you to be a banker. Watch, learn and above all, don't get in the way.'
"I learned a lot that summer, too. It was exciting. I wanted to work for that bank, and interns were practically guaranteed a job after graduation. "He told us there'd be 'something special' on the last day of the program and to dress up for it. I assumed it'd be some kinds of a posh farewell lunch with the brass, you know, the rah-rah stuff. So I skipped breakfast that day and dressed for the executive dining room, it was really frigid in there. I still remember the outfit I wore - long sleeves, high-collared blouse, skirt, jacket, stockings, the whole bit."
"And you were wrong, right?" Gerry sat back as the waiter brought their martinis.
"Yes, I was wrong. We actually went to a groundbreaking in West Chester, a project the bank was financing. We flew up in helicopters to the middle of an open field, no shade at all; just a speaker's platform with chairs for the dignitaries and all us interns, about 300 locals facing us, and it was 96 degrees.
"And the speeches! Well, you know how that goes, they couldn't leave anybody out. The mayor, the senior Republican and Democratic councilmen, the planning commission chairman, the president of the chamber of commerce, the building's owner, the chief tenant, the architect, the general contractor. And the sun beating down all the time. I remember thinking, why do we have to do this in the middle of a field? There's nothing here yet."
Gerry made a sympathetic noise. He'd been through ceremonies like that. "The plot thickens," he said, "what about Frank?"
"Well, about 2 o'clock I was really hungry. My stomach was complaining seriously. I was dehydrating in all those clothes and began to feel faint, just as the president of the bank was speaking. Not a propitious moment, but I had to get off that platform, find a little shade and some water.
"I remember planning my route - across the platform, behind the speaker, down the stairs. I stood up and began to walk....
"Friends told me later that I got to a point directly behind the president...and fainted, dead away.
"The worst part of it, they said, was that he never even noticed me. The crowd gasped. People stood up, pointing. A couple even rushed forward. And he thought they were getting excited about his speech, a standing ovation. He just kept on talking.
"Now that's how to make a bank president remember you! Make him look like a fool! In public! And Frank, well Frank was mortified." "That's quite a picture," Gerry laughed.
"Anyway, I woke up in an air-conditioned trailer with a construction foreman putting cold, wet paper towels on my forehead. Frank was still there too, I'll give him that. The ceremony was over, the helicopters gone and a car was waiting for us. But the foreman, a man my father's age, wouldn't let me leave until I'd finished a turkey sandwich and two Cokes. "She isn't ready yet,' he told Frank, who was trying to hurry me along.
"Well, Frank just shut up and waited. In fact, he didn't say anything during the whole ride back to the city. Or for the next 23 years either! He hasn't forgiven me yet, and probably never will, but I keep trying.
"Anyway, the next day in my exit interview they told me not to worry about it, it could happen to anyone. But I never heard from the bank again, nothing about the incident and no job after I got my degree." "But no lasting harm," Gerry grinned, "right. Madam Executive Vice President?"
"No, but there could have been. I found out a couple of weeks later that I was pregnant at the time. It could have been a disaster, but everything turned out fine."
"Well, I'm glad to hear that. Now, I understand about Frank, so let's get down to my business. I want your bank to take my company public." They were in deep discussion when the waiter brought their lunch.
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