“This is sounding less like science than economics,” Kim said. Edward didn’t respond.
Outside, Edward went directly to his car. “We’ll be at the house at seven-thirty sharp,” he called over his shoulder just before climbing in behind the wheel. He started the engine and sprayed sand and dirt from beneath the wheels as he sped off toward the lab.
Kim got into her own car and drummed her fingers on the steering wheel while she mulled the problem of what to do for dinner. Now that Edward had left and she had a moment to think, she was irritated and disappointed in herself for having accepted this unexpected and unreasonable burden.
Kim recognized her behavior, and she didn’t like it. By being so compliant she was reverting to more childlike conduct of appeasement, just as she had years before, whenever her father was concerned. But recognizing what she was doing and doing something about it were two very different things. As with her father, she wanted to please Edward since she desired and needed his esteem. Besides, Kim reasoned, Edward was under a lot of pressure and needed her.
Kim started the car and headed toward town for food shopping. As she drove she thought more about her situation. She certainly didn’t want to lose Edward, yet over the last several weeks it had seemed as if the harder she tried to please him and the more understanding she tried to be, the more demanding he’d become.
With such short notice Kim decided on a simple dinner of barbecue-grilled steaks accompanied by salad and hot rolls. The beverage was to be either jug wine or beer. For dessert she got fresh fruit and ice cream. By six forty-five she had the steaks trimmed, the salad prepared, and the rolls ready for the oven. She even had the fire going in the outside grill.
Dashing into the bathroom, Kim took a quick shower. Then she went upstairs to put on fresh casual clothes before returning back to the kitchen to get out napkins and flatware. She was setting the table in the dining room when Stanton’s Mercedes pulled up to the front of the house.
“Greetings, cousin,” Stanton said as he came through the door. He gave Kim a peck on her cheek.
Kim welcomed him and asked if he’d like a glass of wine. Stanton accepted and followed her into the kitchen.
“Is that the only wine you have?” Stanton questioned with disdain as Kim unscrewed the cap.
“I’m afraid so,” Kim said.
“I think I’ll have beer.”
While Kim continued with the dinner preparations Stanton perched himself on a stool and watched her work. He didn’t offer to help, but Kim didn’t mind. She had everything under control.
“I see you and Buffer get along okay,” Stanton commented. Edward’s dog was under Kim’s feet as she moved about the kitchen. “I’m impressed. He’s a nasty son-of-a-bitch.”
“Me get along with Buffer?” Kim questioned cynically. “That’s a joke. He’s certainly not here because of me; it’s because of all this steak. He’s usually with Edward at the lab.”
Kim checked the warming temperature on the oven and slipped in the rolls.
“How are you enjoying living in this cottage?” Stanton asked.
“I like it,” Kim said. Then she sighed. “Well, mostly. The lab situation is unfortunately dominating things. With all the pressure, Edward has been on edge.”
“Don’t I know,” Stanton commented.
“Harvard is giving him a hard time,” Kim said. She purposely didn’t add that so was Stanton.
“I warned him about Harvard from the beginning of this venture,” Stanton said. “I knew from past experience that Harvard wouldn’t be apt to roll over and play dead, not when they got wind of the potential earnings involved. Universities have become very sensitive to this kind of situation, especially Harvard.”
“I’d hate to see him jeopardize his academic career,” Kim said. “Before Ultra, teaching was his first love.”
Kim began to dress the salad.
Stanton watched her work and didn’t say anything until he’d caught her eye. “Have you guys been getting along okay?” he asked. “I don’t mean to be nosy, but since I’ve been working with him on this project, I’ve found that Edward is not the easiest person to deal with.”
“It’s been a bit stressful of late,” Kim admitted. “Moving up here hasn’t been as smooth as I’d anticipated, but of course I hadn’t taken into account Ultra and Omni. As I said, Edward’s been under a lot of pressure.”
“He’s not the only one,” Stanton said.
The front door opened and Edward and the researchers trooped in. Kim went out to greet them to make the best of the situation, but it wasn’t easy. They were all in an irritable mood, even Gloria and David. It seemed that no one had wanted to come to the cottage for dinner. Edward had to order them to attend.
The worst response was from Eleanor. As soon as she got wind of the menu she announced petulantly that she did not eat red meat.
“What do you normally eat?” Edward asked her.
“Fish or chicken,” she said.
Edward looked at Kim and raised his eyebrows as if to say: “What are we going to do?”
“I can get some fish,” Kim said. She got her car keys and went out and got in the car. It was certainly a rude response on Eleanor’s part, but in actuality Kim liked getting out of the house for a few minutes. The mood in there was depressing.
There was a market which sold fresh fish within a short drive, and Kim bought several salmon filets in case someone besides Eleanor preferred fish. On the drive back, Kim wondered with some trepidation what she would be encountering on her return.
Entering the cottage, she was pleasantly surprised. The atmosphere had improved. It still wasn’t a joyous gathering by any stretch of the imagination, but it was less strained. In her absence the wine and beer had been opened and drunk with more gusto than she’d expected. She was glad she’d bought as much as she had.
Everyone was sitting in the parlor, grouped around the trestle table, with the portrait of Elizabeth staring down at them. Kim nodded to those who looked in her direction and proceeded directly into the kitchen. She washed the fish and put it on a platter next to the meat.
With her own glass of wine in her hand, Kim walked back to the parlor. Stanton had stood up while she’d been in the kitchen and given everyone a handout. He was now standing in front of the fireplace, directly below the portrait.
“What you are looking at is a forecast of how quickly we will run out of money at the present burn-rate,” he said. “Obviously that’s not a good situation. Thus I need some idea when each of you will get to various milestones in order to best advise how to raise more capital. There are three choices: go public, which I doubt would work, at least not to our advantage until we have something to sell-”
“But we do have something to sell!” Edward interrupted. “We’ve got the most promising drug since the advent of antibiotics, thanks to the Missus.” Edward raised his beer bottle to Elizabeth’s portrait. “I’d like to make a toast to the woman who may yet become Salem’s most famous witch.”
Everyone except Kim raised their drinks. Even Stanton joined after getting his beer from where he’d placed it on the end of the mantel. After a moment of silence they all drank eagerly.
Kim squirmed uncomfortably, half expecting Elizabeth’s expression in the portrait to change. She felt Edward’s comments were disrespectful and in bad taste. Kim wondered how Elizabeth would feel if she were there to see these talented people maneuvering for personal gain in her house from a discovery related to her misfortune and untimely death.
“I’m not denying we have a potential product,” Stanton said after putting his beer back down. “We all know that. But we don’t have a currently marketable product. So trust me, in the current economic climate, it is not the time for a public offering. What we could do is a private offering, which has the benefit of less loss of control. The last alternative is to approach additional venture capitalists. Of course this approach would require the most sacrifice of stock and hence equity. In fact we’d have to dilute what we already hold.”