Chapter 36: 2000

“Valerie?” I said answering the door.

“Yes, it’s me. I just got done talking to Jillian. She said she visited you this morning and mentioned the New Year’s Eve thingy. May I come in?”

“Uh, yes, come in,” I said. “She said you might be going to call to invite Sarah and me. And yes do come in.” She smiled her thank you. I motioned her to sit and she did.

“Chase, I’m going to get right to the point. I know that you don’t know much about Herb’s business interests. Pols and business people are always looking for support—read donations. Herb has a foundation he instituted to handle stuff like that: political support contributions, charities and the like. Usually events like this one are held at fancy venues of one sort or another. But this one somehow got set up for our place, don’t know the whys and wherefors thereof myself, but it did. Politicians, CEOs, ministers of various faiths will be in attendance. But ... a new member of one of the groups was invited by a regular,” she said.

“Okay, but I still have no clue where this is going?” I said.

“The new member of the group is judge Matson.” My face losing its color must have clued her.

“The guy who sentenced me,” I said.

“Yes.”

“And if he saw me, and recognized me, things might become a little dicey for you and your husband. I mean a convicted murderer being on the guest list.”

“Yes,” she said. “And likely embarrassing for you and Sarah. We were going to tell you after the fact. But, if you want to come you will be welcome, it’s just...” she said.

“I had to smile. Thank you for the invite. But Sarah and I already have plans,” I said. “And Valerie, I really mean thank you. No problem for me or us. I mean it.”

I was being totally disingenuous as per Sarah and my non-existent plans; and my visitor knew it but decided not to call me on my disingenuosity.

“Thank you for understanding. Oh, and just to reiterate. You are always welcome to our digs. I mean any time, party or no party. Okay?” I nodded.

“For sure,” I said.

And New Year’s Eve celebration did arrive—at our house—and so did the local convicts club comprised of the Lutzes, and Hernandezes and us. And which party, as I was about to learn, had been surreptitiously arranged for by none other than my daughter and her ever-lovin’ husband, Evan!

“Jesus!” I said. As the guests—which included all four of the Lutzes’ children—none of whom were children anymore—trooped into our humble abode.

And they had brought the food, a real good idea, since the party was a complete surprise to me and Sarah. And then there were the surprise guests ... the Cartons.

“Jillian? I thought you were going to be busy tonight,” I said. She knew what I meant.

“Yes, well, Evan and I had a choice to make. Hobnob with snobs or have fun here,” she said. The choice was not a real hard one to make.”

“Okay, I have to say that I agree with your assessment of the choices,” I said.

The party lasted till the wee smalls and it had turned out to be noisy and a lot of fun. And, as a side note, a few of our neighbors—four—had become impromptu guests.

And then we got a post New Year’s Eve visit, well, on New Year’s day. He did have the decency to wait till after lunch-time, allowing us, as I supposed, time to recover from the previous night’s carousing. And we had needed the time.

I answered the door, on my seriously wobbly legs; well, I was handicapped as well as marginally hungover.

“Herbert! Jillian did say you might be by at some point,” I said.

“Yes. May I?” indicating his desire to come in.

“Yes, yes, come in,” I said, “sorry.”

“Mister Cooper! I mean Herb, Herbert,” said Sarah. “Nice to see you. Please.”

“Thank you,” he said. “Just so you know, neither Valerie nor I knew Jillian was coming here last night, not until earlier this morning as a matter of fact. Though when she didn’t show up at our place, well...”

“Well, neither did we until she showed up with the crowd,” I said.

“Yes, she told us, like I say, earlier this morning. Got any coffee? I’ve only had one cup so far today?”

Sarah smiled and repaired to the kitchen. She was back in a minute and a half with the coffee.

Seated at the dinette table, Herbert took the lead.

“I know that Val gave you the basics as to why we weren’t exactly in a hurry to invite you, or even let you know that there was a party at our place. And, like I also know, she told you, we did plan to out ourselves after the fact likely today or tomorrow, depending.”

“Yes, that’s all true. And like I told her, we were good with not being invited. Herbert there are going to be times when you have things going that makes no sense for us to be invited to.”

“Yes,” he said, “and yesterday was one of those times. I mean judge Matson...”

“Yes, in spite of the truth that it was years ago that he sentenced me, it was still more than slightly possible that he might remember me. I mean who knows?”

“Yes,” he said.

“And add to that, the kind of folks that your invitees included were not our kind of folks. I mean the kind of folks with which neither Sarah nor myself have anything in common with.”

Our visitor looked down. “Chase, as far as I’m concerned it’s more a case of them not being up to your standards, not close. But none of them would grant such as I am sure you are aware.”

“Hmm,” I said.

“Next year it’ll be a different story,” said Herbert.

“You know, I talked to Hector and Frank at some length last night and Jillian too about that very thing. We kind of made a decision to make future New Years’ Eves a regular thing. I mean our group and you guys of course and the Bachs, and the Goldings—I know William and Carmen are planning to do the tie the knot thing. I got that info from Frank; they keep in contact quite a bit if you weren’t aware,” I said.

“No, I was aware, William and I talk a lot too.

“I should also tell you, well maybe I shouldn’t, that Rein and I have something else in the works that we may be announcing in the not too distant future. Rein’s the lead on it, and he’s going to let me know. At the moment it’s just a possibility, but well I guess we’ll be seeing.”

“Okay...?”

“Yes, and no I’m not going to tell you now,” he said and grinned.

I looked over at my Sarah. She wore a questioning look. I think she was feeling something, maybe curious. Not sure.

We talked a little longer about both previous night’s parties. And promised to get together soon, and we would; I was certain of that.

I hadn’t met up with Reinhard Bach since Christmas last, but now it was mid-August and he was standing in front of me, in our doorway.

“Honey? Who is it,” yelled Sarah, from the back.

“A guy with really good taste in women,” I said. Well, sometimes my genius did come to the fore. She strode in wanting to see what I was talking about.

“Mister Bach!” she said.

“Rein,” he said.

“Damn, I still have to get used to some stuff, even after two years,” she said, smiling. “Good to see you, Rein. It really is. Come in, come in.” He did so.

“Coffee,” I said. Our visitor nodded and took a seat at our all-purpose table. Sarah motioned me to do the same; she’d be getting the coffee. She returned with the platter and the java in but two or three minutes.

Coffees in front of us, we sipped and the momentary silence was deafening.

“If I may,” said Rein, “Sarah. Your siblings in Tucson. Would you be interested in meeting with them. I mean considering everything.”

“Huh? You mean Leann and Randell! I mean really?”

“Yes,” said Rein.

“Rein?” I said, interrupting the flow. The man tendered me a smirk, but switched his gaze back to Sarah.

“Sarah, last Christmas Eve, you had a long conversation with Valerie. As she told me,” he said.

“Yes, yes we did,” said Sarah. “I remember, we had a couple of drinks together, as I recall.”

“Yes, she told me when she talked to me a couple of days later.”

“Okay?” I said, once again injecting myself.

“And you talked about some personal stuff, including your siblings,” he said, ignoring my as yet unvoiced question.