Chapter 8: Meeting Mrs. Collingsworth

On Friday, I delivered a sketch of Mr. Collingsworth's existing space to Tom Pierce, the architect in charge of building design, and asked him to add the future projected requirements into a layout that would fit the vacant space in our building. I told Tom that there was no rush. He seemed pleased with the assignment, intimating that his department was not busy.

Marcie called on Saturday morning. I told her about Megan leaving the bikini hanging in the shower and about my inability to speak to her. "I don't know if she's just busy or if she's avoiding me."

"She's probably busy with her new job," Marcie said, being very untypical. It wasn't like her to placate me. She was usually brutally honest.

"I'm busy too, but I make time to talk to my friends."

"I know you do, Honey."

I didn't want to monopolize the conversation with my troubles. "What's new with you?"

"I seldom see Adam during the week. He's busy working in his father's law office and I'm busy working for Bernard. We're going back to school early. He's taking a new apartment and wants me to help get it ready."

"Whose Bentley were you driving the other day?"

"It's my dad's car, but we all drive it."

"Will you be seeing Jeannie?"

"Hmmm, not really, they have their friends and we have ours. Why do you ask?"

"I just wondered if she'll be staying with the other kids after she graduates."

"Are you kidding? Nothing would pry her away from Josh."

"That's not the way she talks. I took her out for ice cream, and heard her spout off about how the boys are having an affair with that rover they're working on."

"Believe me, spouting off was all it was. Those four are joined at the hip. They squabble over minor things, and then they sleep in the same bed."

"You mean like... ?"

"I don't think they're switching off, if that's what you're intimating."

"Celia has it in her mind that Eddie is cheating, but Jeannie says there's nothing to it."

"I'd go with Jeannie on that. I've never seen two couples more devoted to each other."

"Is that how it is with you and Adam?"

It took Marcie a few seconds to answer. "Yeah, that's how it is with us."

That's when I decided against phoning Eddie. If there was anything to Celia's concern that he was cheating, it was something she needed to work out. It was none of my business.

I had my own troubles. When I couldn't reach Megan on Sunday, I considered calling Dr. Koskowski to have a talk, but only briefly.

I invited Wanda to accompany me to Mr. Oldham's Monday morning staff meeting. I'm sure everyone thought she was there because I felt insecure, but that was not the case. She was not there to back me up. I'd studied the material and I'd never felt more comfortable being in front of an audience.

Everything went splendidly until I was wrapping up, and asked if there were any questions.

Ralph Shepard, the head of sales, raised his hand. "I understand you're taking over my job."

What the fuck was he talking about? I looked to Wanda for help. She shrugged.

I looked at Ralph for an explanation as to what he was getting at. His expression was placid, giving me no hint. "Does that have something to do with the state of the commercial real estate market?"

"No, it has something to do with you making sales calls."

It dawned on me that he was referring to my visit to Mr. Collingsworth's business. I shot a look at Tom Pierce and caught him glaring at Ralph. It was obvious to me that Tom had told Ralph about the space layout his department was working on at my request.

"If you have a beef with me, Ralph, I'd appreciate it if you would take it up with me in private. If I've stepped on your toes, I appreciate your concern, but you've overstepped your bounds this morning. I don't like being called out in front of others. It's contrary to my military training."

"Obviously, your military training did not include a course in protocol," Ralph Shepard shot back at me.

Mr. Oldham rose to his full height of five feet, seven and one-half inches, and everyone looked to his end of the table. "I asked Sam to investigate the requirements of one of our investors to take advantage of the high regard the man has for my son. Ralph, if anyone is remiss; it is me for not coming to tell you about my decision in person. I'll make no promises, but I'll try to keep you better informed in future. In the meantime, if you would read my memos instead of roaming the halls looking for suspected intruders into your domain, it would prevent the need for face-to-face meetings with me."

A hush came over the room. Mr. Oldham told the group that the meeting was adjourned, and everyone shuffled out of the room, including Ralph Shepard, who didn't look my way. Tom Pierce made eye contact and mouthed, 'I'll talk to you later.' That was unnecessary, but I acknowledged that I'd read his lips anyway.

Back at the office, we laughed at the scene Ralph Shepard had created in the conference room. Wanda wanted to know what was next, and I told her about the proposal I hoped to submit to Mr. Collingsworth.

Later, Tom Pierce stopped by to apologize for letting Ralph see the design he was working on. "He only saw the drawings, not the name of the prospective tenant. I shouldn't have told him it was you that requested the design, but he would have badgered me until I gave him a name."

"Don't worry about it, Tom. As I told you, there's no rush, but when you have some numbers I'd like Wanda to have them. She'll be preparing a proposal, but she has enough preliminary groundwork to keep her out of trouble for the time being."

He said he'd have the numbers before the end of the week.

At home that evening, Suzanne took Ralph Shepard's side. "They're all uneasy. The presentation Sammy gave reinforced the uneasiness they feel about the entire commercial market. Like some of the others, Ralph fears the unknown, but he shouldn't have sounded off about his concern at your staff meeting."

"Did Ralph apologize to you, Sam?" Mr. Oldham asked.

"No, he didn't, but Tom Pierce came to see me. He felt badly about letting Ralph see what he was working on. He was forced to say it was me that requested it, and I guess Ralph picked up that the first floor was being proposed."

"If Ralph would pay attention to what's going on at the field sales offices, and lend them support instead of trying to boost his own numbers, this wouldn't have happened."

"It would help if he read your memos, too," I said, and made Suzanne giggle.

Not much happened those last two weeks of July. We finished the Collingsworth proposal, but I put off presenting it because the lease on their existing space would not expire until the end of March, 1994. Mr. Collingsworth would not need to make a decision until December. I told Wanda that we would wait until we returned from Florida, dust off the proposal, and have Mr. Collingsworth come to our building to see the space first hand.

I waited until the first of August to break the news to Mr. Oldham and Suzanne that I was taking Wanda to Florida with me.

"Does that have anything to do with you not being able to reach Megan?"

How did she know that Megan was avoiding my phone calls? "Don't read something into this that is not there. My taking Wanda with me has nothing to do with Megan."

Suzanne either believed me and ordered the second bed for my convenience, or she didn't believe me and ordered the second bed in case I changed my mind about the sleeping arrangements.

I heard her on the phone with the Florida store. "You're sure you have everything in stock? Good, my son will call you from the airport when he arrives on the tenth. He'll expect you to make the delivery an hour later. Thank you."

She gave me all the information, and told me to call her if the store's truck was more than ten minutes late.

Two days before we were to leave, I received a call from Marsha Cody.

"My father said you are interested in learning about bank security, but you haven't called for an appointment, Sammy."

Shit! Why hadn't I told her that a bank vault would not be required to store Mr. Collingsworth's inventory of precious stones?

"Ah, yes, I am interested. I've been meaning to call you, but I'm afraid it's going to have to wait until I get back from Florida."

"I can make time for you tomorrow, if that would be convenient?"

"Great," I said.

I remembered Marsha from meeting her and her parents at the club a month before. She was well prepared to show me the security measures she'd put in place at the branch bank. In addition to cameras placed in strategic locations, she gave me brochures on the vault, and a copy of their employee training program.

After an hour of hearing her repeat herself, I thanked her for seeing me, and prepared to leave. She offered her help in case I had questions later.

Wanda waited until we were seated on the plane before she asked, "How did your meeting with the bank lady go?"

"I don't know how long she's been widowed, but she's the horniest woman I've ever met."

Wanda only laughed for a couple of seconds before asking, "Hornier than me?"

"Yes, hornier than you."

I telephoned the furniture store as soon as we landed. They said they would deliver the beds within the hour.

Philippe Mendoza was there to meet our flight. He took us directly to the house and invited Wanda to tour while I observed how she gave him her full attention. He assured me that all the equipment worked, and agreed to return the next morning, after I'd had a chance to inspect the workmanship.

"You would have fucked him if I wasn't here, wouldn't you?" I asked, and watched Wanda become thoughtful.

"No, I would have waited until the furniture company delivered the beds," she said. "Where the hell are they, anyway?"

I was pretty sure she was joking about fucking Philippe. At least, I hoped so. For all I knew, he was married.

I called Suzanne to tell her the beds had been delivered as soon as the furniture people left.

"Which rooms did you put them in?"

"My room and the guest room next door."

"That means you'll be sharing the bathroom with Wanda."

"Come on, Suz, I'm not fourteen any more. We're celebrating Wanda's twenty-sixth birthday. Her mother isn't as apprehensive as you and I've seen Edith naked."

Suzanne must have gotten the point that she couldn't control what I did and let me go.

We went shopping for bedding and something to eat for breakfast before trying out the pool. I wondered if we were really the first ones to use it, thinking that if I were Philippe, I would invite my friends over and have a pool party.

Wanda wore a bikini, saying it was one of two that she had brought with her.

Before we went out, I turned the air conditioning off, explaining to Wanda that I wanted to find out how long it took to cool the house when we got back. I took her to a small family restaurant where Megan and I had eaten a few times.

Wanda kept remarking about what a good time she was having. I told her that I knew she worked hard and deserved a vacation, even if it was a short one.

"It's good to have you working full time. I feel secure with you sitting in the office behind me."

"I'm not there very much. There's not much that I do that demands my being in my office."

"True, but people passing by see 'Sammy Oldham' on the door, and that carries a lot of weight."

I never knew what to expect from Wanda. She'd changed considerably since our first meeting, over four years before, but she often said things that surprised me. I wondered if she just wanted to shock me, or she was being sincere.

The temperature in the house had reached ninety degrees when we got back, and the air was stuffy. I turned the air conditioning on, and we got back in the pool to cool off.

"That's a trick Neill taught me the first summer I worked for him. Either the house will cool down or we've got a problem. Mr. Oldham would never forgive me if I missed something that obvious."

Wanda was treading water. "Why do you refer to him as Mr. Oldham? Doesn't he want you to call him Dad?"

"I don't say Mr. Oldham to his face. I usually say 'Yes Sir, ' and 'No Sir.'"

"You don't have any trouble calling Suzanne by her name. Why don't you call him John or Dad?"

Wanda would never have talked to me about something this personal at the office. Why was she grilling me about how I referred to Mr. Oldham?"

"I don't know," I said, dismissively, and she took the hint.

After two hours, we went inside to discover the temperature was down to seventy-four. Wanda helped me make my bed before asking if she should make hers, too. I smacked her on the ass and she ran off screaming accusations that I was beating her.

The next morning, I found something very disturbing. The floor tile in the master bath was the wrong design. It should have been light blue with yellow flecks to match the walls. Instead, the tile that had been installed was the correct color blue, but with flecks of red. I checked the blueprint, found that I was correct, but could not find where the tile with the red flecks belonged. The error had obviously been made by the supplier. How could Philippe have missed seeing that the color was wrong?

By the time Philippe arrived, I'd double checked everything else, the paint and wall covering, the finish on the floors, even the items I'd checked when I'd been there before.

Philippe was mortified when I showed him the error. He first tried to tell me that his tile man was working on another job. "I'll have the right stuff down before your parents get here, Mr. Oldham."

"I'm not leaving until this is corrected. Get your supplier on the phone, have him deliver the correct tile, and then get a hold of your tile man. Show me how to remove the tile that's been installed."

He could see the fire in my eyes. I remembered how long it had taken Suzanne to make her selections. I could picture her walking into her bathroom and finding red flecks in the tile. "Show me what I have to do," I repeated.

After pleading with the supplier to beg, borrow or steal the correct tile, Philippe spoke to his tile man and firmly told him what was expected. He then went to his truck and came back with several different styles of tools.

I knew he had another job going, but Philippe insisted on working with me. The tile was stubborn. Philippe was interrupted by phone calls for the job he'd abandoned for the day. I heard him seeking advice from someone, and we tried a variety of methods suggested to pry the tile up. At noontime, we'd barely made a dent.