Page 2 of A Matter of Pedigree
“That is, unfortunately, of no importance to us,” said Hosea, sounding regretful. “The unit is owned by my younger brother, and none of us have any financial interest in the sale. Our concern,” he said, including the other owners in a sweeping gesture, “is whether the Capobiancos will fit into our tight little community.” He paused. “We want to know if they are the right sort. As Mrs. Weaver mentioned, Prospect Place will be forever associated with the Browne family name, and therefore we absolutely cannot tolerate the least hint of impropriety.”
Frank shifted in his chair. Like trafficking in human lives wasn’t improper, he thought, biting his lips.
A touch of color rose in Susan’s cheeks. “I can assure you that Mr. and Mrs. Capobianco will be terrific neighbors. Mr. Capobianco’s business is extremely successful, and they will have no problem at all assuming the financial obligations of ownership, such as maintenance fees and taxes. In addition,” she added, with a nod to Celerie, “I know Mrs. Capobianco is eager to decorate the unit in the style it deserves.”
“I’m certainly glad to hear that,” said Celerie, nodding and tossing back her stylishly long, wavy, blond hair, hair that Carole was sure was not naturally blond. “You may know that I have a little decorating business, and I already have some ideas.”
“Terrific,” said Carole, more enthusiastically than she felt. She somehow doubted that Celerie’s taste matched hers, but she was willing to play along.
“I think we all understand that Mr. Capobianco has been remarkably successful, thanks to his ingenuity with toilet fixtures,” said Hosea, adding a sniff. “What we are interested in is the Capobiancos themselves. What are your interests?” he demanded, fixing them in his hawklike gaze.
“Thanks for asking,” said Frank, placing his hands on his knees and leaning forward. “I’m a big sports fan, love the Pats and the Sox, and what about those Celtics, hey?” He looked around, but didn’t get any response from the professor or Hosea and only a small nod from Mark Lonsdale. “I love fishing. I’ve got a boat,Royal Flush, I call her. It’s, you know, one of them double entenders.”
Millicent smiled at this, as did Angelique, but the men in the group were not amused. Hosea, especially, seemed offended and pressed his narrow lips together. Carole shifted nervously in her seat, worried that things weren’t going their way.
“I’m not much of a churchgoer,” continued Frank. “I get to Holy Ghost on the big holidays, Easter and Christmas, but Carole here goes regularly, and she always puts plenty in the collection plate.”
The others all nodded approvingly, but Hosea’s back stiffened.
“And I don’t mind admitting I have a fondness for Foxwoods and Mohegan Sun,” added Frank, naming two casinos located over the state line in Connecticut. “O’ course my favorite is Bally’s here in Little Rhody; might as well keep that money in the state, no?”
The others laughed, apparently amused at Frank’s forthrightness, but Hosea remained expressionless. “And what about you, Mrs. Capobianco?”
“Well, I attended Mount Holyoke College,” she began, going straight for her biggest gun. Unfortunately, it didn’t have quite the bang she’d hoped. Going to a Seven Sisters school was par for the course with this crowd. “But I left to marry Frank. I’ve been a homemaker my whole life; we have two children, a son and a daughter. Connie is a first-year associate at Dunne and Willoughby,” she said, naming one of the city’s top law firms. But once again, these folks were not impressed. “And our son, Frank Junior, is a sophomore at RISD.” On the Hill, admission to the Rhode Island School of Design was a feather in anyone’s cap, but of this group only Celerie seemed interested. The others considered RISD as somewhat inferior to its Ivy League College Hill neighbor, Brown University.
“I’m active in the Altar Guild at Holy Ghost,” continued Carole, plugging away. “I try to keep in shape at Curves. I help Frank’s folks; they’re getting on now and have trouble with their health insurance and driver’s licenses, things like that.” Carole was aware she was running out of ammunition. “And I’m always happy to bake something for a good cause; anybody who’s having a bake sale only has to call,” she finished.
“Very laudable, I’m sure,” said Hosea, not meaning a word. “Well, would you prefer to step outside while we vote, or would you prefer to remain?”
Carole was half out of her seat when Frank grabbed her hand, restraining her. He was never one to run from a challenge. “We’ll stay,” he said.
“Very well,” said Hosea, once again tenting his hands and surveying the room. “Does anyone feel the need for discussion?”
There was a bit of an awkward silence until Millicent spoke up. “I do. First of all, I want to thank Mr. and Mrs. Capobianco for coming tonight and for their interest in joining our little community.” She smiled warmly at Frank and Carole. “I think the Capobiancos are a lovely couple and would be a terrific addition to Prospect Place.”
“I agree,” said Angelique, speaking in a charming French accent. “In France, you know, life is richer because people of all sorts intermingle. No one looks down on the waiter; he is a master of his craft, as is theboulanger, and theboucher, and theartiste.Sometimes you have all these different people in one family, gathering on Sundays for the big family dinner, along with theavocat, thedocteur.” She looked to her husband for confirmation, and he gave a firm nod. “I would like very much for us to open the doors to Prospect Place wide and to welcome the Capobiancos. “Bienvenus,” she added, concluding.
Hosea turned toward Mark and Celerie, and Mark began speaking. “As for Celerie and myself, well, we also feel the Capobiancos would be a terrific addition. I mean, how often do you need a plumber, but you can’t get one?” he demanded, getting a little round of laughter. “If Frank moves in, that definitely won’t be a problem. And I don’t know about you, but I can’t remember when I last had some home-baked cookies.” He took his wife’s hand. “Celerie is awfully busy with her business …”
“Too busy to bake,” added Celerie. “That’s for sure.”
“So we think it would be great to come home to decent water pressure and the smell of something delicious baking in the oven,” said Mark.
“This is wonderful news,” said Susan, hopping to her feet and setting her briefcase on the chair. “I happen to have a purchase and sales agreement all ready for signing, and I understand that you, Hosea, have power of attorney for your brother, Jon, who is out of the country. Is that correct?”
“It is indeed,” said Hosea.
“Wonderful,” said Susan, producing the paper and carrying it across the Persian rug to him. But instead of taking the proffered document, Hosea brushed it aside.
“I will not sign that.”
“But I thought everyone was agreed?” said Susan, stammering a bit. “What possible objection could you have?”
“I do object,” said Hosea, “and I’m sure my brother would also object. In his absence, Jon has given me his power of attorney. As is stipulated in the deeds, all sales must be approved unanimously by all the owners.”
“But you’re turning down an offer that is double the asking price,” said Susan, unwilling to watch her commission go down the drain.
“As I mentioned, I’m acting for my younger brother, who I must admit has never shown the least interest in the prudent management of his finances.” Hosea twisted his thin, gray lips into something like a smile. “But, that aside, it’s for the Capobiancos’ own good,” he said, in a condescending tone, as if he were talking to an errant child. “I’m sure they are wonderful people and much appreciated in their community, but I am quite sure they would not be happy here, among people like ourselves. That’s all; it’s nothing personal.” He turned and looked at Carole, baring his yellowed teeth. “I do hope you won’t take this personally.”
