Chapter 62: Propositions

May 8, 1984, Chicago, Illinois

"Can we talk about last night?" Violet asked, coming into my office mid-morning on Tuesday.

"Yes. Close the door, please."

She closed the door, and we sat on the settee.

"I'm really sorry," Violet said.

"There's nothing to be sorry for," I said gently. "We talked about taking things step-by-step."

"But you obviously wanted to."

"A true statement, but immaterial."

"I wanted to," Violet said. "But I felt like I was going to lose control."

"That feeling is nature's way of ensuring babies are born," I said with a smile. "I can't say for sure because I'm not a girl, but I suspect the feelings were similar to your panic attacks, though I suspect your panic attacks didn't have a pleasurable component."

"Not even!" Violet laughed. "I don't know; I mean, after thinking about it, I'm pretty sure it was both, plus being nervous."

"That makes perfect sense, and we can take it as slowly as you want. And I know you're struggling with the type of relationship we'd have."

"You know I don't think you have to be married to do that."

"Yes, but you also said you felt it was OK with a guy you thought you might marry. One thing that we didn't discuss was what you would want if it was up to you. Assume, for the sake of argument, that you can actually go to bed with me and not have a bad reaction."

"To be together as a couple and have a baby together," Violet said.

"That's a change," I said. "The baby, I mean."

Violet giggled, something rare for her.

"I was infected by the Sofía virus!" she declared.

She, along with everyone except Deanna, though even Deanna enjoyed time with Sofía.

"She is an adorable little thing," I agreed. "And I would love to have a baby with you eventually."

"Really?"

"Really. When we're both ready."

"If it were up to you, what would you want?"

"That's the key question with which I'm struggling. I don't know what I want. What I can offer now is friendship, which could include physical affection, anywhere from, to use a metaphor, first base to a home run."

"Because you think sex can be just for fun, right?"

"Can be, yes. But what I'm saying is that if you just want hugs, that's fine; if you just want to kiss, that's fine, too. It doesn't have to lead to going all the way, as it were. And there's no rush, even if we were to decide to have a baby together. That could be ten years from now or even a bit longer."

"You weren't frustrated last night?" she asked.

Not frustrated, but I did feel as if I'd missed out on something very special, something that would have allowed Violet to allow herself to 'lose control' with me. That said, the promise was there that when it happened — and I felt it was 'when' not 'if' — it was going to be mind-blowing.

"Not even a little bit," I said firmly and lovingly. "We can take this at whatever pace you feel is best."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

She left, and I returned to work. Late in the morning, I called Tony, Pete, and Scott into my office to discuss the latest tightening by the Feds, which brought the Prime Rate to 12.5%.

"What do you think, Scott?" I asked.

"My money is on one more round of tightening in June. Reagan is already bitching up a storm about the Fed, and it's going to get worse, but I think, in the end, Volcker sticks with the program. I'd be more concerned about the banking sector."

"Me, too. Pete?"

"50/50 on another hike in June. The optics just look bad for Volcker in the middle of a Presidential election. Even he has to bow to reality. If Reagan loses the election because of the Fed tightening, Volcker will be accused of stacking the deck for the Democrats when the numbers tell me that it's an even-money bet."

"Tony?"

"Volcker has inflation bore-sighted, and he is not afraid to pull the trigger. He doesn't give a damn about the politics. I'd bet on an increase, but then the numbers will flip, and we'll see a round of easing in September and October."

"I agree with that last bit," Pete offered. "Volcker will squeeze until it hurts, then quickly back off so he doesn't completely choke off growth. He almost has to loosen as fast as he tightened."

"Target interest rates for November 6th?" I asked.

"12.25%," Tony said.

"11.75%," Pete offered.

"12.5%," Scott added. "I don't think he'll cut that fast."

"Let's go with 12.25%," I said. "I tend to agree more with Scott, but Pete makes a good argument about the reciprocal loosening. Pete, any more news on Continental Illinois?"

"Outflows are continuing apace, but they're defending successfully so far. Sustainable for maybe two weeks, but I hear they're already jawboning Treasury Secretary Regan and Fed Chairman Volcker for emergency assistance to ride out what they're calling a temporary liquidity problem."

"Temporary? Hah!" Scott scoffed.

"I did say they were calling it that," Pete said with a grin. "They're a zombie bank at this point — dead man walking."

"Thanks, guys. I'll be out this afternoon taking my Series 30 licensure test."

They left the office, and I ate lunch with Violet in the lunchroom, then left the office and walked to the building where the test was being given. It was a relatively short test consisting of fifty questions, either True/False or multiple choice, so I'd be gone less than two hours — ten minutes each way, fifty minutes for the test, and about twenty minutes of waiting time, as I needed to check in for the exam.

Most of the material would be the same as for the Series 3 exam, except from a manager's perspective rather than from the perspective of a broker. Given I'd had both the Series 3 and Series 30 training courses, and had reviewed everything on Sunday, I was positive I knew the material. As I entered the building where the test would be given, I felt extremely confident, as I'd only need to achieve a score of 70% to pass the exam.

I found the correct office, showed my ID, and, per the rules, put my wallet, keys, notebook, money clip, and checkbook into a small locker. I locked it, then went into the room where a proctor was waiting. I chose a seat in the second row and sat quietly, waiting for the exam to start.

At precisely 1:00pm, we were told to turn over the test booklet, break the seal, and begin the timed test. I worked methodically through the questions, none of which stumped me, though there were a few that used tricky wording that I believed was intended to catch people who weren't reading carefully.

I completed the test with fourteen minutes remaining and was confident I'd passed, so rather than spend time checking my answers, I signed the booklet and handed it in. I left the classroom, collected my items from the locker, then returned to the Hancock Center.

"How did you do?" Violet asked.

"I'm positive I passed, but I won't know until they notify me, which could be as soon as Friday, but more likely sometime next week. Then I have to file the application, and the license will be issued, probably sometime in late June or early July."

"But you'll keep this role, right?"

"Yes."

"I'm happy for you!"

"Thanks!"

I went into my office and spent the rest of the afternoon on research. At 5:00pm, I left the office and made the three-elevator commute to the condo. I greeted everyone, then went upstairs to change clothes. Five minutes later, I was back downstairs and sat down with Bianca and Sofía on the sectional sofa.

"You had a phone call from Britney Krause," Bianca said. "She left her number and asked you to call as soon as you could."

"That's the art student who asked me to model. Let me make the call."

I called Britney, and we agreed I'd meet her at 2:00pm on Saturday in a studio at the School of the Art Institute. The Summer session didn't actually start for two weeks, but she wanted to get a head start. I opened the calendar and wrote that in, then went back to sit with Bianca and Sofía until dinner. At dinner, Deanna invited me to come to Ateljé D with her, and as I didn't have anything I needed to do, I agreed. Once we finished eating, we left the condo and drove to the gallery.

"Is there anything left to do to prepare for Sunday?" I asked.

"Just hang four paintings," she said. "I called the building handyman, and he'll come by on Thursday to put proper fasteners in the walls in the open area and a few in each bedroom, though I don't plan to hang anything on the bedroom ones — each person has to decide what they want. For yours, probably just one more, given you have the Japanese prints you chose, including Octopuses and Ama."

"I'm happy for you to decide what to put on my walls," I said.

"Speaking of that, CeCi will give you copies of all the photos she takes, and we discussed creating some kind of display or collage, but we weren't sure you would want a bunch of photos of you hanging on the walls."

"Not particularly," I said. "I'd be OK with some kind of photo album, but I really don't want them on the walls. You're already going to display Nuclear Family in the gallery room, right?"

We were interrupted by the tinkling of the bell on the door, indicating a visitor. Deanna left the studio, but I remained behind to allow her to interact with her visitor. She was back about ten minutes later.

"Could I get some additional capital?" she asked.

"For?"

"Art supplies. The woman who just stopped in was looking for supplies, and we talked about how tough it can be to find quality items. I had planned to do that once I started offering classes after I graduate, but I think it would be a good thing to start now. There's enough space in the pantry room to keep a stock of supplies, and I could put up a sign with the list of things I'd have — charcoal, pencils, paper, canvas, and paint. I wouldn't buy a large supply to start. That way, if they didn't sell, I could use them or offer them to other students. It would also create a bit of additional foot traffic, which is the lifeblood of galleries."

"Figure out how much you need and let me know."

"Will do!" she said, picking up her brush. "Back to your question — yes, I plan to display them, though you did express concern about Sofía."

"I'm OK with it for now," I said. "We'll worry about the display when she's older. Maybe you're right, but I'm not sure. Anyway, when is the next one?"

"When she's three months, then six months, then a year. After that, once a year on her birthday until you say, «¡No más!» like Roberto Durán!"

I chuckled, "Talk about an obscure reference! I vaguely remember the dustup about that."

"Yes, back in 1980 against Sugar Ray Leonard. My dad is a boxing fan, and he talked about that for weeks with his friends."

"You know, this is the first time I've actually watched you paint one of your abstract paintings. What's this one?"

"It's called Afterlife," Deanna said. "I'm not sure about it, and I might trash it and start over."

"How often does that happen?"

"Often enough. I have false starts fairly often, but then the emotion takes over. Well, usually. Sometimes, I just abandon the idea because it never flows."

"How long from start to finish?"

"It varies, but a couple of weeks, usually. Sometimes, the concepts percolate in my brain for weeks or months before I put the first paint on the canvas. The ones I've done for you were actually outliers in that the concepts just sprang fully formed in my mind."

"May I ask what you're trying to capture?"

"Keiko's «kami»," Deanna said. "This one is for me, never to be sold."

"I hope you'll display it."

"Probably in my room," Deanna said. "Consider it the equivalent of the portrait of her in the Japanese room or the urn in your room."

I nodded, "That makes perfect sense."

There was one other visitor that evening, though just someone who was passing by and curious. Deanna had me lock the doors at 9:00pm, though we stayed for another hour while she worked on her painting. Just after 10:00pm, she threw in the towel and said she intended to start over. We headed home, and at her request, she joined me in my bed.

May 9, 1984, Chicago, Illinois

"I don't think it much matters," Tony said as we discussed the Soviet and East Bloc boycott of the Summer Olympics in LA that had been announced on Wednesday.

"I tend to agree. Mostly a tit-for-tat thing, and it's not like any advertising money flows past the Iron Curtain. Sure, we're missing some great athletes, but in the end, the rest of the world will be there."

"On a different topic, did you see they suspended the game between the Sox and Brewers last night and are resuming today?"

"Yeah," I replied. "I saw it on Bloomberg this morning — seventeen innings so far. I didn't realize the rules required the game to be suspended at 1:00am."

"American League rules; not sure about the National League because it's not like games going past the twelfth inning are very common. And it should have been over after the Brewers took a two-run lead in the top of the ninth. The Sox rallied with two in the bottom of the ninth with two out. And that was against Rollie Fingers, who's a sure Hall of Famer.

"It has a ways to go to break the modern record of twenty-five innings by the Cardinals and Mets in 1974. The all-time record is from 1920, when the Brooklyn Robins and Boston Braves played to a tie after twenty-six innings. They basically just gave up because ties were OK in those days."

"Brooklyn Robins?" I asked.

"The Dodgers. That was their name for about fifteen years. They had a bunch of other names before that, including the Grays, Bridegrooms, Superbas, and Trolley Dodgers. All of those were actually nicknames because their official name was Brooklyn Base Ball Club. In 1933, they put 'Dodgers' on the uniforms, and that was it."

"I know the Reds were the 'Red Stockings' and 'Redlegs', shortened to 'Reds'. At some point during the 60s, they avoided using 'Reds' because of the Soviet Union, but in the end, that name won out. Anyway, unless there's some fallout beyond the East Bloc nations not showing up, we agree there's no effect on any of the markets."

"Yep."

He left, and I returned to a review of my portfolio and made a minor adjustment to the mix of Treasury instruments to ensure I didn't have any forced redemptions to make the estimated pension payouts. I had lunch with Violet, and we went to the gym together. The rest of the day was typical, and at 5:00pm, I left the office and made my way to the condo.

We had a nice dinner, and after dinner, Deanna left for Ateljé D. CeCi was at work, so it was just Bianca, Sofía, and me at home. Around 8:00pm, I was holding Sofía, and the phone rang, so Bianca got up to answer it. After a quick chat, she put her hand over the mouthpiece.

"It's my cousin. OK to invite her and Katy over on Saturday?"

"You don't need my permission! I have class in the morning and my modeling session with Britney in the afternoon."

"OK."

She finished her call with Esme, then came to sit with Sofía and me.

"They're coming over around 1:00pm," Bianca said. "I'm not sure how long they'll stay."

"It's your condo as much as mine," I said. "Remember, you're building equity with every rent payment."

"I can't see you ever selling this, even if you build a house elsewhere."

"Probably not, and it'll all go to Sofía and any brother or sister she might eventually have. But if you ever need the equity, you can cash it out."

"What are the chances of that? If you stay at Spurgeon, I'll make great money; if you leave Spurgeon, I'll make even more money!"

"I agree, but it's an important point."

"One which I acknowledge. Sofía's asleep, so I think you can put her down."

I nodded, carried my daughter upstairs, and put her in her crib.

May 11, 1984, Chicago, Illinois

On Friday, at 5:15pm, Bianca and I met Jack, Kristy, Meg, and Nicole in the lobby of the Hancock Center for our triple date.

"Firestarter or The Natural?" Kristy asked. "Stephen King or baseball."

Everyone voted for The Natural, which made the decision easy. There was more debate about where to eat dinner, but in the end, we all agreed to Maxim's because of the varied menu. The easiest way to get there was the Streeterville bus, so we all walked out to Michigan Avenue to the bus stop.

The six of us chatted amiably while waiting for the bus. The bus arrived about ten minutes later, and fifteen minutes later, we were seated in the downstairs of Maxim's. We ate, then took the same bus route back to Water Tower to see the movie. We all enjoyed the movie, which had a mythical storyline enhanced by amazing cinematography. When the movie ended, Jack and Kristy headed back to the house, and Bianca and I invited Meg and Nicole to come back to the condo.

"Holy shit!" Nicole exclaimed, stopping dead in her tracks when she walked into the condo, causing Meg to bump into her.

"Almost everyone has that reaction the first time they see the view," Bianca observed.

The girls moved further into the condo, and I shut the door.

"Hi, Jessica," I said. "How was Sofía?"

"She's an angel! She had her two bottles of expressed milk, and I put her in her crib about fifteen minutes ago."

"We have it from here. You can head home, but mark your time card for the full shift, please."

"Thank you!"

She left, and Bianca went to check on Sofía.

"Babysitter?" Meg asked.

"Nanny," I replied. "There are two who cover 6:00am to 6:00pm Monday through Thursday and 6:00am to midnight on Friday.