Getrude gritted her teeth. "We must discover what's he's up to, Claude," she said desperately. "Whether it's drugs or the wrong friends or, or I don't know! Something's just so wrong––I don't know how to handle him anymore!"
Her husband petted her hand soothingly, but his eyes were far away. "Claude?" she pressed.
"I've an idea," he said suddenly. "You remember those foreign students we had brought from Europe a few years ago to work as interns? The ones I hired to stay on full time? Bright, good young men––a little stiff, perhaps, but that will only help our case. You know how Ham looked up to them."
Gertrude nodded. "You think he'll talk to them? When he refuses to talk to us? He's just so angry and upset all the time!"
"Yes yes, dear," Claude replied. "They could convince a man to give up everything he owned and move to the Bahamas! If they integrate themselves with Ham, perhaps they can figure out where it is he is going at night and why he's so upset about everything!"
Gertrude nodded, trying to be hopeful but feeling the ever-increasing sense of discouragement. They had tried everything, what made them think this would work? But then again, perhaps all Ham needed was a reminder that he was the heir of the largest corporation in all of the Western United States, that he had been educated at the best of Ivy League schools with the most difficult, prestigious programs they had to offer. Perhaps the influence of these two young men would be enough…or perhaps even they were no longer 'cool' in her son's eyes. She just didn't understand him anymore!
She waited impatiently as her husband spoke to his secretary through the intercom, resisting the urge to stand and pace. One of the two men was apparently out of the office on business, and so she forced herself to busy herself otherwise, browsing through a catalogue for new women's suit jackets––the one her assistant had laid out for her this morning had looked a little wrinkle despite its fresh steaming and Gertrude had rejected it. On that topic, though, she ought to get a new assistant if she couldn't even trust the woman to pick out a decent thing to wear to even a day with no important appointments! Gertrude stirred restlessly, tired of the cheap suits, her mind continually drawn back to the bigger problelm at hand.
At last the two men were announced and admitted. She forced herself to remain sitting as they entered.
"Gentlemen," her husband said with a broad smile. "Sit."
Yes, these were the men she wanted influencing her son. They both sat smoothly, their appearance impeccable, expressions courteous and professional.
"So tell me, gentlemen, friends of my son, have you spoken with Hammond of late?"
The two exchanged glances. "No, sir," one, Rosencrantz, said slowly. "It has been months since Hammond has sought our company."
"A shame, isn't that?"
"Indeed," the other man, Guildenstern, interjected. "Hammond was quite the friend to us, keeping us from falling into poorer company when we first arrived here."
"Ah," Claude said with a smile, "And now, perhaps, you can return the favor."
As her husband laid out the plan and the two accomplished lawyers, business men, and even scholars turned their bright minds to the task, Gertrude found herself calming. This depressive bout of Ham's was just something all young men faced as they came of age and took their place in the world. All would be well. Ham would be fine. He would recover from his father's accident and her remarriage, and come back to his studies and accept his position as heir to the company.
Of course he would. Nothing would go wrong.
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