Chapter 50: Preoccupied

January 20, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

"How did things go in Cincinnati?" Mr. Nelson asked on Thursday morning.

"Don't ask," I said, shaking my head.

"That bad?"

"For my friend? Yes. It doesn't really affect me, except insofar as I feel bad for her."

"Custody disputes always suck. I have never once heard of one that turned out well."

"Yeah. Anything happen yesterday?"

"Nothing important. They did install some artwork on 29, but the building took care of that, as expected. The copiers and fax machines will be delivered today. That was confirmed yesterday afternoon. Once those are in, that's it except the training, the coffee service people, and the plants, all of which happen on Friday."

"Good. I did test the water flow from the copper tube that feeds the coffee maker by turning the valve and it's working, along with testing the outlet, so they should just need to hook it up. Did the packing boxes arrive?"

"Yes. And the secretaries will stay Friday night to pack up the offices. Your team will move them downstairs on Saturday morning."

"It seems to me that we'll be done in four hours or so," I said. "With no furniture being moved, and only moving boxes from eight offices and desks on 32 to 29, then five from 31 to 32, the four of us will knock that out before noon. I'm just glad Mr. Enderle isn't moving."

"That fucking fish tank is going to be a royal pain in my ass in a few years when Mr. Spurgeon buys a building."

"Just as it was when we moved here," I replied. "At least that time it was new, and we just had to set it up."

"Maybe I'll call that Theo character and have him get some Wise Guys to whack Enderle," Mr. Nelson said thoughtfully. "Or just have them put arsenic in the fucking aquarium!"

"I'm sorry, Boss, did you say something?" I asked with a grin.

"Why, no, I didn't! Thanks, Kane. Let me know if there are any problems with the copiers and the fax machines. As for Saturday, you're probably right, though I'd like you to stick around to help the secretaries if they need it."

"Of course," I grinned. "You aren't paying me overtime!"

"Get out of here!" Mr. Nelson said, laughing.

I left his office and went to the mailroom to start my second-to-last day as supervisor. Well, there would be Saturday, but in terms of official work days, this was the second to last, or 'penultimate' as I'd heard it called.

"Hey, bro," Jack said, coming into the mailroom just before 8:00am. "How'd it go?"

"Shitty doesn't even begin to describe it," I replied. "I'll tell you everything when we can get a few minutes alone."

"That's not going to be today or tomorrow."

"If you can stay ten minutes later today, we can chat before I go to class."

"For you? Of course."

Bob and Sandeep came in just then, confirming I'd made the right decision about not getting into the discussion with Jack.

"Guys, tomorrow you'll need to make sure you deliver packing boxes to everyone who is moving. We'll do that at the end of the day, around 4:30pm, when the Suits have mostly left for the day. The secretaries will pack tomorrow night."

"You're going to be a Suit on Monday!" Bob countered.

"Technically," Jack said. "But Jonathan will never be a Suit like Matheson or Enderle."

"I'll do my best," I replied. "Let's get to work. The copiers and fax machines will be delivered today, and I'll work with Phil to get the fax machines hooked up to the phone system. Jack, you'll need to cover for me. Tomorrow I'll be in training in the morning, and in the afternoon I have to coordinate with the coffee people and the plant people, so I won't be in the office much."

"OK," Jack said. "Did Mr. Nelson tell you he has two people coming for interviews tomorrow?"

"No, but that's your deal now, not mine. Officially, I don't work in Support Services, even though I'm working in Support Services."

The morning was routine until 11:00am when the copiers and fax machines were delivered. I worked with Stan from Phil's team to have the fax machines connected to the telephone system. Everything went smoothly, though it took nearly two hours, which meant I took my lunch break later than usual, and ended up eating alone.

At the end of the work day, when Bob and Sandeep and left, Jack and I went down to 29 and sat at my new desk.

"Heather is not Bob's daughter," I said. "Blood types prove it."

"Oh, shit! You?"

"No possible way. She had her period right before I moved and we didn't have sex after that. She got pregnant while I was living in Chicago and didn't have a car, so I couldn't easily go back to Ohio. I had to borrow a car from my uncle to go at Christmas. And I was at work every day, and was seeing Lily plus hanging out with Tom and Stuart. I know it sounds like an alibi, and I don't need one, but you're like the tenth person to ask if Heather could be mine."

"No judgment, bro."

"I know, but I need to take away any doubt. You and I are going to be partners and I do not want any doubts. Total trust requires total disclosure."

"Just keep pulling me up the mountain after you."

"I can forge and mark the path, but you have to put forth the energy. Or to put it another way, you need to follow me up the ladder."

"What's next?"

"Here? Or with Bev?"

"With Bev. I pretty much know the plan here."

"She was distraught, and didn't want to talk, so I haven't had a chance to discuss it with her."

"You don't know who the father is?"

"Not until I talk to her, and then only if she chooses to tell me. I suppose the best answer I can give right now is that I'm going to take each day as it comes and wait and see. I'm actually going to call my mom before I leave for dinner with Violet before class to check on Bev."

"Then I'll let you do that. See you tomorrow morning."

We shook hands, and he left. I used the phone at my new desk to call my mom. The charge would go to Matheson's P&L, and 'Suits' were given leeway to make personal calls that support staff were not.

"Hi, Mom," I said when she answered.

"Hi, Jonathan. I was just getting dinner on the table."

"Say 'hi' to Glen for me."

"You brat! I will."

"And let me know when I should start calling his house."

"Soon. But I'm guessing you didn't call to tease me about Glen."

"No, I didn't. How is Bev?"

"Beside herself. She didn't go to class today."

"Has she said anything?"

"No. I stopped by, but Julie said Bev won't come out of her room and that she hasn't eaten anything since yesterday."

"What about Heather?"

"Being cared for by Julie, of course."

"Bev needs help, Mom."

"I know, and I spoke to Julie about that. I'll stop in tomorrow, but I'll be at Glen's."

"Should I just call there on Sunday so you don't have to hurry home to sit by the phone and pretend?"

"You are really asking for it, Mister!"

"I'll take that as a 'yes'. May I have Glen's number, please?"

She gave it to me, and as I had to go to class, we said 'goodbye' and I hung up. I left the new offices and used the freight elevator to get to the garage. Fifteen minutes later, I was at Violet's house eating dinner. While we ate, I basically repeated the story in outline form.

"I can't believe she kept that from you!"

"I don't think she knew," I replied. "Well, I mean, she obviously knew she'd been with someone else, but she put Bob's name on the birth certificate, which means she thought it was Bob and he didn't object, which means he thought so, too."

"Are you sure?" Violet asked.

"What do you mean?"

"What if she put Bob's name on the birth certificate to hide what really happened?"

"I mean, that's possible, but I don't think it fits the facts. And if I understand correctly, she couldn't do that without him at least not objecting, but I don't know for sure."

"What will you do?"

"Wait until Bev is ready to talk to me."

We finished our meal, I helped her clean up, then we headed to class. As usual, I sat with Troy and Teri, and after class, I joined Violet for coffee and pie before heading home.

January 21, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

"Are you OK?" Bianca asked when I got out of the shower on Friday morning.

"You mean because we didn't have sex last night?"

"And the night before," Bianca said, handing me a towel. "That's not like you."

"I guess I'm just preoccupied with what's going on with Bev and the fact that she's not talking to anyone and isn't taking care of Heather."

"But her mom is there, right?"

"Yes, and her dad. Heather will be fine, but Bev most certainly isn't."

"I think if some deep, dark secret I'd kept from my best friend, who was also my lover, came out in court, I'd be pretty upset, too."

"I'm not saying Bev shouldn't be upset, but not caring for Heather and not eating tells me that it's more than just upset."

"Tell me to stop if you don't want to hear this, but I think it's most likely about 'who' not 'what'."

"Only a fool doesn't listen to options when trying to analyze a situation. As for your analysis, I hadn't considered that."

"If it's someone she would never want anyone to know about, for whatever reason, it makes sense. I mean, if it was just a random one-night stand, why not tell you?"

I thought about it for a few seconds while I finished drying off and we went to the bedroom so I could dress.

"Maybe she doesn't know," I replied. "I don't see Bev allowing herself to be picked up in a bar, or whatever, and having sex with someone and not knowing their first and last name, but it is possible, even if improbable. Or, as you say, it might be someone she doesn't want her parents or me to know about."

"You said you didn't know she was seeing Bob before you left, right?"

"Right. She told me after she got pregnant that she'd started seeing him before I left. And that was easy enough because I was working so much."

"I have to ask, and please know I'm saying this as your friend, how well do you really know Bev?"

"If you mean could she deceive me, I suppose I have to say 'yes' because she kept her relationship with Bob secret while I was still living in Goshen. That said, we were never officially a couple, or at least we didn't acknowledge it, so it wasn't really cheating."

"Wasn't it? Think carefully, but would you have gone on a date without telling Bev? Actually, without asking her?"

I considered that while I tied my tie.

"Doubtful," I said. "I guess I knew deep down we were a couple, even if I couldn't admit it."

"And that leads to the question — did she actually think Bob was the father, or was he convenient?"

"That's the same question Violet asked at dinner last night in her own careful way."

"It's a valid question, isn't it?"

"As I said to Violet, I don't think it fits the facts. I mean, if Bob wasn't with her around the time Heather was conceived, he'd have challenged paternity. He didn't, and I can't imagine him not doing that given he refused to pay child support until there was a court order."

"Guys are pretty clueless about how getting pregnant works," Bianca observed. "A lot of girls, too. I mean, one of the things I heard in Junior High was that you couldn't get pregnant your first time. I know someone who learned just how wrong that idea was."

"I heard all kinds of dumb stuff in the gym locker room in Junior High and High School, but I didn't buy most of it because it made no sense."

"You're too logical and analytical to fall for some of the stupid stuff that's said. But if Bob didn't know when she had her periods, it's difficult to know exactly when she got pregnant. Well, OK, you never know exactly but you calculate forty weeks from your last menstrual period to know the projected birth date.

"The thing is, that's just a rough guess based on statistics, and a first baby is often late, but doesn't have to be. The only thing you can say for sure is that the baby was conceived at some point after your last period, and that gives a range of up to three weeks, give or take. So maybe Bob doesn't remember well enough, knows they had sex at some point, but not exactly when."

"Plausible," I replied.

We went downstairs to the kitchen, where Shelly was making breakfast, and I poured cups of coffee for myself and Bianca.

"How are you this morning?" Shelly asked. "You seem out of sorts."

"It's unanimous," I replied. "Bianca said basically the same thing, and I agree with both of you. I'm just preoccupied."

"Totally understandable," Shelly replied. "You know we're here for you."

"I do, and I appreciate it."

While I ate my bacon, eggs, and toast, I considered the possibilities, and in my mind, the one that best fit the fact pattern was that Bev didn't want her parents or me to know who the baby's father was. I simply couldn't see her having a random one-night stand with someone she didn't know well enough to identify, and I also didn't see her purposefully blaming Bob if she knew otherwise.

While I could see wanting to keep her parents in the dark, I couldn't come up with a plausible reason why Bev wouldn't talk to me. I had never judged her, and never would, and I had, to my knowledge, no enemies or even guys I disliked enough for that to bother me. Ohio's age of consent was sixteen, so it wasn't that, either. Logically, she should have told me, but logic appeared to have been overridden by emotion.

Of course, even applying logic and analysis, all I had was speculation until Bev was ready to talk to me, and I could drive myself to distraction by obsessing about the why and the who. In fact, I was already distracted, as evidenced by both Bianca and Shelly asking me if I was OK and Bianca's observation about not having had sex, which was truly out of character for me.

"JONATHAN?!" Bianca said.

"Sorry, what?"

"You were like in a trance! I called your name twice before I said it sharply."

More proof I was obsessing, and I had to stop, because being distracted was a surefire way to make mistakes both at work and in my personal life. I had to focus.

"I'm just, well, obsessing, I guess. I need to stop doing that or I'm going to lose focus."

Bianca smiled, "I'd say we could take your mind off of that situation, but you have to leave for work in ten minutes!"

"I appreciate the offer," I replied.

"You have your monthly dinner tonight, right?"

"Yes. And you two are going out with your gang to terrorize the city."

Bianca and Shelly both laughed.

"When we turn twenty-one next year, maybe!" Shelly declared. "For now, we can't get into the good places!"

"I still suspect you could do serious damage while you 'paint the town red'!"

"We could bring the entire gang home tonight to cheer you up!" Bianca suggested. "A dozen college girls!"

"That might be a bit much, even for me!" I chuckled.

I downed the last of my coffee and orange juice, then went upstairs to brush my teeth and gargle with Listerine before heading to the office for my last official day as mailroom supervisor. I performed my usual morning tasks, and just before 9:00am, the receptionist called to let me know that the trainers had arrived. I went to reception and, in a rarity for me, used the regular elevator to escort them to 29.

"Let me call and have the others come down," I said, once the trainers verified they could log onto the terminals.

I called Tony Kirov, my counterpart analyst, who had worked for Mr. Matheson for about two years, then called Anna, Mr. Matheson's secretary and let her know the trainers were here and ready to begin.

"He's on a conference call," she said in her lovely Swedish accent. "Mr. Monroe and Mr. Foulks are with him. They'll be at least thirty minutes."

I was totally unsurprised by that revelation, and, once I hung up, I put my backup plan into action.

"Unfortunately, my boss is tied up in an important conference call," I said. "As is his right-hand man, who was also scheduled for training. I'll take good notes and train them if they don't make it down."

"That's not usually the procedure," Andy, the lead trainer, said. "Our policy is to only provide the access credentials to someone who has been trained by us."

"No doubt, but Bloomberg delayed the install by a week and they had the time blocked off last Friday. I can have Mr. Spurgeon call your office if need be. I don't think he'll be very happy at that point, and he's already not happy due to the delays."

"Let me make a call, please."

"Use my desk phone," I said, pointing to my desk. "We're still waiting for Tony to come down, and for the new analyst, Paige, to arrive."

He made the call and after a bit of back and forth, he offered me the handset.

"This is Jonathan Kane," I said. "I'm in charge of this project. Who is this, please?"

"Terry Klein, head of post-sales support. I understand we have a problem."

"Yes, you do," I said firmly. "You delayed the installation of the equipment, which meant you didn't do the training last Friday as scheduled. Now, today, because the time wasn't blocked off on the calendars far enough in advance, my principal is engaged on a conference call and cannot attend the training. I propose you train me and the other two analysts, and I'll train Mr. Matheson and Mr. Monroe."