Chapter 56: Four Girls

April 19, 1984, Chicago, Illinois

"Hi!" Krissy, who was wearing a dark blue skirt and light-blue blouse, exclaimed when I walked into the lobby of the State Street dorm.

"Hi! Do you have a preference for dinner?"

"Connie's? I want deep-dish at least once before I go home!"

"Then Connie's it is. I don't have my car because I took a cab, so I didn't have to pay to park for five minutes, and a cab is cheaper by far."

We left the building, I hailed a cab and directed the driver to Connie's on 26th Street. Ten minutes later, Krissy and I walked in and asked for a table. There was a twenty-minute wait, but we could put our pizza order in immediately, which would mean less time waiting after we were seated.

"Where in Oregon are you from?" I asked.

"Ontario," Krissy replied. "It's on the border with Idaho. It's about fifty miles from Boise and about four hundred from Portland."

"How big is it?"

"About 9,000. Where are you from?"

"Goshen, Ohio. It's about thirty miles northeast of Cincinnati. The town's population is under a thousand; the township has about the same as your hometown."

"How did you end up in Chicago?"

"During Senior year, I felt I had to get away from Goshen, so I called my uncle, who lives in Chicago, and asked him to help me get an entry-level job here. He called a friend of his who offered me a job as a mailroom clerk. I worked my way up to mailroom supervisor, earned my securities license, was promoted to analyst, started running my own investment fund, and was promoted to Chief Analyst and assigned to manage the newly created Research Department."

"You're what? Twenty-seven or twenty-eight?"

"Twenty-one."

"Whoa! All that in three years?"

"A bit less, but yes."

"That's really impressive! You wouldn't happen to be looking for a girlfriend, would you?"

I had to commend both Stefi and Tara for not saying anything about Keiko, as I didn't want that to be the first thing someone knew about me.

"Well, at least you didn't jump right to a marriage proposal!" I chuckled.

Krissy laughed, "Good-looking, dressed to the nines, successful, and friendly. What more could a girl ask for?"

"A reasonable point," I said with a smile. "My life is a bit complicated at the moment, not to mention you're going home for three months. Let's see how tonight goes, and if you want a second date, you can call me when you get back in August."

"OK!"

"What's your area of focus?"

"Photography. My goal is to be a photojournalist."

"That sounds like it could be a fun job."

"I think so. I started with one of those Kodak Instamatic cameras when I was six, and I received an SLR as a birthday present when I turned thirteen. I was the photographer for our school newspaper and actually sold one photo to the local newspaper. I won a few competitions, too."

"That's impressive. Do you have siblings?"

"An older brother and a younger sister, about two years apart both ways. You?"

"Only kid."

"Do you work out? You look like it."

"Three times a week, mainly to stay in shape, not to get ripped."

"Did you play sports in High School?" Krissy asked.

"No. I worked after school, so I really didn't have time. Did you?"

"Sure! Lead scorer on the basketball team!"

"You must have one heck of a jump shot!"

Krissy laughed, "Somehow, I don't think a five-foot nothing girl who weighs a hundred pounds soaking wet is going to be a basketball star!"

"No, but there are other sports."

"Soccer? Volleyball? Softball? Those were the three main sports for girls, besides basketball. Well, and track, but all those girls had really long legs. You're about six-two, right?"

"Yes."

"Are you a sports fan?"

"Baseball, hockey, and football. You?"

"College football. I used to watch with my dad and my brother. We didn't have a Major League Baseball team anywhere close until the Mariners in '77, and Seattle is about 450 miles from Ontario. Cubs or Sox?"

"Reds," I replied. "But I prefer National League ball, so I prefer going to Wrigley over Comiskey."

"Cats or dogs?"

"We didn't have pets, but I was around dogs and cats, and I'm not in either camp. You?"

"I have a cat back home. I never liked dogs."

"Table for Kane!"

"That's us," I said.

We were seated, and the waitress brought our salads and Cokes.

"How did you learn everything to advance so quickly?" Krissy asked as we started eating.

"The company has study guides, and I took a couple of specialized classes. Most of what I do is analysis, which basically means studying something, analyzing it, and writing a report. The company uses those reports to decide what securities, futures contracts, options, bonds, or whatever to buy or sell."

"You don't need a college degree to do that?"

"No, but I am working on a degree in business part-time."

"Where do you live? An apartment in the city?"

"No. I own a house in Rogers Park, but as of tomorrow, I'm moving into a condo in the Loop."

"Wait! You're twenty-one, and you own a house AND a condo?"

"Yes."

"Holy Moly! If you don't have a girlfriend, I'm applying!"

"One step at a time!" I said with a smile. "As I said, let's see how the evening goes, and in August, when you come back, I'll take you on a second date if you want."

"I want!"

"Was there something specific you wanted to do tonight? Maybe see a movie?"

"Is it possible to see your condo? Or not until tomorrow?"

"We can actually do that."

Our pizza arrived, and the waiter put one of the thick slices on each of our plates. Connie's pan pizza was so thick it had to be cut into bite-size pieces with a large serrated knife and eaten with a fork.

"I can't believe this pizza," Krissy said. "Back home, it's totally thin."

"Same for me. I never knew about Chicago-style pizza until I came here. Connie's is really good, but I like Giordano's better. There are other things I never had before I came here — Chicago-style hot dogs, Carson's Ribs, Portillo's Italian Beef, Maxwell Street Polish, and Ricobene's breaded steak with marinara sauce."

"I mostly eat in the dorm dining hall because I have to watch my money. I worked Summers starting after my Sophomore year, so I'd have spending money, and I'll work when I go home."

"What do you do?"

"Waitress at a restaurant my dad's best friend runs. What jobs did you have in High School?"

"I worked for a feed store, a lumber yard, and a landscaping company at various times, usually two jobs."

"What did your parents do?"

"My dad died before I was born, and my mom worked secretarial or office jobs. She's a secretary at the High School now."

"Before you were born?"

"Yes, not long after Mom got pregnant, he died in a plane crash. What do your parents do?"

"Dad works for the County as a health inspector. Mom is a secretary for a CPA."

"What about your older brother?"

"He joined the Navy when he graduated. He's an electrician on a nuclear submarine."

"The military was one thing I considered, but I'm a pacifist, so I didn't think that was a good idea."

"You wouldn't fight to defend the country?"

"If the country was invaded, I'd fight to protect people I care about. But going to Grenada or Lebanon? No. Did I just uncheck a box?"

"No, I'm not pro-military, and I want everyone to get along. That said, somebody has to defend the country."

"I agree."

"Are you a Republican or Democrat?"

"Democrat, but I voted for Reagan. You?"

"Republican. Did I just uncheck a box?"

"Given what I do for a living? No chance. Everyone I work with is Republican. I'm the token Democrat. And a Democrat friend of mine basically read me off the other day for what I do for a living."

"What's wrong with investing and making money?"

"Nothing. I tried to point that out, but ... never mind. It's a long, boring story that would have to delve into politics with which I don't agree."

"I tend to avoid politics because reporters have to be unbiased and objective, or at least that's how they need to present themselves."

"In my job, I have to present myself as a hardcore conservative capitalist. To do otherwise would lose business. Of course, I am a capitalist, but I'm not evil, selfish, or greedy. I'm a straight shooter and prefer blunt, direct conversations, but I know I have to temper that a bit with prospective clients."

"Blunt and direct?"

"I speak my mind, usually without any varnish or embroidery. I respond well to people who are direct, and I can quickly become annoyed with people who beat around the bush. My job requires me to be logical and analytical, and that's pretty much my personality."

"Most people don't like blunt, direct talk."

I smiled, "I'm not most people. I get along best with people who do, but I also know how to schmooze when I need to."

"What you said before about clients, right?"

"Yes, or people I come in contact with in the course of life — clerks at stores, waiters and waitresses, cabbies, and so on."

"That's called being polite!" Krissy declared.

"Yes, of course, but my point was that despite preferring blunt, direct talk, I know when it's not appropriate."

"Do you have fun? Or is it all just pure logic, like Mr. Spock?"

"I do have fun, and I can be a real goofball in the right circumstances — basically with people I'm close to."

We finished our meal, though there were three slices of pizza left, which I had the waiter put in a box. I paid the check, left a healthy tip, and we left the restaurant. I hailed a cab, and we got in.

"175 East Delaware Place," I told the cabbie.

"Yes, sir!" he said as he pulled the flag to start the meter.

"Where's that?" Krissy asked.

"The Hancock Center. That's where our offices are and where my condo is."

"By Water Tower Place, right?"

"Yes."

Nine minutes later, the cab pulled up in front of the building, and the doorman came out to open the door. I paid the cabbie, then Krissy and I got out.

"Mr. Kane, isn't it?" the doorman asked.

"It is. I have to ask..."

"When they took the photo for your ID card, they sent it down to the desk."

"I hope you don't mind if I just give you an envelope on the first of the month each month," I said, following advice Jeri had given me.

"Not at all, Mr. Kane. Not at all."

"Thank you, Robert," I said, reading his name tag.

He held the door for us, and we went inside. We took the express elevator up to the sky lobby, then switched to the local elevator that served the 91st floor. When we exited the elevator, I led Krissy to the door, unlocked it, and let her in.

"WOW!" she gasped. "That view!"

"It is awe-inspiring. Let me show you around."

It seemed best to avoid talking about Keiko or Sofía until August, as it would only complicate things. I knew there was a risk of springing that on her later, but I wanted to at least get through the first date. That meant skipping the Japanese room, as it would be difficult to explain without telling the whole story, as well as the nursery.

"This is just unreal!" Krissy declared. "You're not pulling my leg about this being yours."

"I'm not."

I led her upstairs and showed her the master bedroom and the art gallery, happy that Deanna hadn't displayed the 'Nuclear Family' painting, as that would have been difficult to explain at this point. I didn't show her the other bedrooms, simply noting they were similar.

"Who is going to live here with you?"

"Three friends, to start with," I replied.

"I'll move in with you!" she declared.

"Just like that?"

"In addition to the stuff I said before, you're obviously very successful. A girl would be an idiot not to want to be your girlfriend."

She was moving awfully fast, and while I was interested in her, I had to take a measured approach. My expectation had been that the date would follow the ones I'd had with Stefi and Tara, not rush headlong into a potential relationship. That meant I basically had to come clean now rather than lead her on for the entire Summer.

"Remember how I said my life was complicated? Let's open a bottle of wine, and I'll explain."

"OK," Krissy replied hesitantly.

"White, red, or white zinfandel?" I asked.

"Zinfandel, please."

I went to the fridge and retrieved a bottle of Sutter Home white zinfandel. I used a corkscrew to open the bottle and poured some into two wine glasses I took from a rack that Natasha had installed under one of the cabinets. I carried both glasses to the 'conversation pit' formed by the sectional sofa arranged in a U-shape, and Krissy and I sat down.

"First, this date did not go the way I expected it to..."

"You expected to get laid?" Krissy asked with an arched eyebrow.

"I didn't expect it, but based on my assessment of what was said by you, Stefi, and Tara, I felt it was possible, or perhaps even probable."

"I suppose that's reasonable. I don't believe in putting out on the first date. Or the second one, for that matter."

"A perfectly reasonable position. I will point out that a few minutes ago, you offered to move in with me!"

"It's a woman's prerogative to change her mind!" Krissy declared. "Wait, I just wrecked it, didn't I?"

"You mean because I'm a straight shooter, and you just implied inconsistency or fickleness?"

"Yes. I'm not, but it seemed like the right thing to say."

"And there is nothing wrong with changing your mind about something when presented with new information. There's a reason — actually multiple reasons — why I suggested waiting until August, and we'll get to those. But first, what I meant when I said it didn't go the way I expected, I meant what amounted to an invitation to be a couple inside of the first fifteen minutes.

"Initially, I took that as a flip comment, though with potential underlying seriousness. Then you repeated it twice and offered to move in with me. I considered that you were serious about it, and it didn't feel right to wait to have this conversation in August because I didn't want you to go away with a potentially wrong picture of me and my situation. I'll explain, and it's probably best if you just listen, OK?"

"Sure. You're not, like, dying or something?"

"No, but ... well, let me tell you the story. About sixteen months ago, I met a girl named Keiko. We hit it off almost immediately, and in fairly short order, I knew she was the one. Things progressed quickly because she felt the same way, and it was obvious to both of us where we were headed, despite my intention of not making a commitment like that at age twenty.

"Things were going really well until one day, she said she was feeling really tired. After several doctor visits, she was diagnosed with leukemia on May 13th of last year. We immediately sought treatment, and she began chemotherapy. Despite that, we married in a civil ceremony in mid-August, then had a Shinto ceremony in early October. After two rounds of chemo, the doctors concluded that only a bone marrow transplant could save her, but we couldn't find a matching donor, and she died on December 27th."

"I, uhm, don't even know what to say," Krissy said quietly. "I'm so sorry."

"Thanks. Anyway, that's not the only complication. About two and a half years ago, I met Bianca, who became a close friend. She's bisexual, though she has a strong preference for girls. She asked me, at one point, if I'd help her have a baby, and I had agreed, but I met Keiko, and that messed up the timeline and plans.

"I'll skip to the end — when Keiko found out she had to have a bone marrow transplant to have a chance to live, she also found out that, in nearly every case, that treatment renders the woman unable to conceive because of the high doses of radiation involved. We agreed we'd adopt, but she knew I wanted a biological child, so the three of us — Bianca, Keiko, and me — agreed that Bianca and I could try to have a baby before Keiko and I married. My daughter Sofía was born ten days ago."

"I'm at a loss for words."

"I understand. I come with quite a bit of baggage, and none of it was particularly relevant if this were a situation similar to Stefi and Tara, so I wasn't going to say anything. Things didn't go that way, and you made the first 'girlfriend' comment. As I said, the first one I could easily let go, but I suggested a conversation in August so all the emotional stuff didn't affect our date.

"Then you made the comment twice more, along with the offer to move in, and it was obvious to me that you did want a second date, which meant I had to decide whether to tell you now or wait until August. I felt it was wrong to, in effect, mislead you and have you come back in August expecting to begin a relationship and have me dump all of this on you then. I hope you understand why I'm not ready to make any kind of commitment at this point."

"I do," Krissy said. "And ... heck, I'm not even sure what to say right now. I guess I have to ask how interested you are."

"Interested enough to want a second date," I replied.

"I suppose that's the only realistic answer you could give."