receive no compensation for the work they did relating to it. We can hire people like Greg and Naomi to run it, therapists, nurses, other staff, but we, the shareholders, receive no pay. Only the shareholders can hold office, and, in fact, are required to hold office and fulfill the duties of the office or else relinquish their shares. In that event the relinquished shares shall be evenly divided among the other shareholders.â
âThatâs insane,â David said.
âMaybe so. But thatâs how we set it up, and for fifty-two years thatâs how itâs worked.â He pulled out a folder from his briefcase and handed it to David. âThe bylaws and our mission statement, our charter,â he said. âWe kept it as simple as the law allowed. Why donât you look it over? Itâs short. Wonât take you long.â
When David started to read, Thomas got up and crossed the room to stand at the window gazing out at the garden. Chrysanthemums were beginning to bloomâbright red, yellow, bronze. End of summer, he thought, thatâs what chrysanthemums meant. Another season, another year winding down.
When he heard the papers slap down on the table, he turned to regard David, who was scowling fiercely. Thomas knew exactly what was in those bylaws. He and William McIvey had spent a great deal of time on them, and he had reviewed them all thoroughly during the past few days.
âWhat exactly was Mother responsible for?âDavid asked in a tightly controlled voice. No emotion was visible on his handsome face, no anger, no disdain, no disbelief. Nothing.
âAs vice president, she was in charge of fund-raising. We have three major campaigns annually, as you probably know. She wrote letters to contributors, donors, escorted them on tours of the facility, a garden tea party every June, an annual auction, things of that sort. As secretary she kept notes at all our meetings and put them in order for the annual audit, as required by law. It wasnât too onerous, but exacting. There are formulas, rules that must be followed.â
âAnnette could do those things,â David said after a moment.
âNot unless sheâs a shareholder and is elected to office by a majority vote.â Thomas returned to the table and sat down.
âDavid, thereâs no money in this clinic. In fact, for years we ploughed money back into it from our practices. We never intended to make money with the clinic, and we wrote those bylaws in such a way as to ensure that our mission would remain true to itself if one or more of us became incapacitated, or just wanted out.â
âI could assign some of my shares to Annette, let her assume those duties that way. Another husband and wife team. Youâd have no grounds to oppose that.â
âYou would have to give her the shares outright,â Thomas said. âNo strings attached. And she wouldhave to abide by the bylaws just like everyone else. No, I would not oppose that.â He sipped his water, then asked, âWhy do you want to stay in, David? This is far removed from your field.â
âExactly,â David said. âWhat I can see here is a surgical facility, neurosurgery, cardiovascular surgery. You have fifteen beds upstairs, and room for twenty more, room to expand, rooms to convert to surgery.â He leaned forward, and for the first time ever, Thomas saw a flare of passion in his eyes, heard it in his voice. âThomas, Iâm the best neurosurgeon on the West Coast. We would have people come here from all over the world. A specialistâs specialty, dedicated to those two areas. We could do it together, you and I.â
Thomas realized how seriously he had misjudged the young surgeon. He had thought David wanted control in order to sell out to one of the health organizations, or to change to a for profit facility. This had not occurred to him, that David had his own compelling vision. Time was on