Chapter 14

The house was still empty when I got home, my parents off at the McGonigle’s, and Mindy probably at her party du jour.

I dug out Stan’s secret phone number and called, leaving the essential details of where and when and what. There wasn’t much to add, so I just hung up when I was done. I realized that some part of my unconscious was still puzzling over why the two of them had shown up here suddenly after so many years absence. It was all still speculation, because there were few facts connected to the reappearance. But one fact can lead to another and perhaps the picture would become clearer.

I wasn’t hungry, and not in the mood for television, so I pulled out a reading list book and dutifully started in on it. At some point I must have fallen asleep because I was awakened by a door slamming. Probably Mindy, as my parents were better behaved.

She poked her head in and informed me that she was exhausted and needed a nap. She went to do that, which was my parents’ cue to come home.

“There’s some party leftovers in the fridge if you’re hungry,” said my mother, “but I’m gonna lie down. You’re on your own for dinner.”

The following day, Monday, my body kept telling me that I had to be at work, but my mind overruled it and I slept late. Later Jeff and I went to an action movie which wasn’t that good, but killed a few hours.

But Tuesday got me back to the grind again. I found Ted at his desk, looking more chipper than usual.

“Mornin’, Carter. Have a good Fourth?”

“Yeah, it was nice. You?”

“Nice to relax with the family for awhile. There’s a bunch of orders there, probably overflow from the holiday rush, but they can save their purchases for the next holiday.”

‘A bunch’ turned out to be quite a lot, and I was busy picking and packing for most of the morning. I made a list of the things that were in the warehouse for Ted to pick up later and took the cartons out to affix labels and postage.

Miriam was busy at the PC, fingers flying over the keyboard. She must have gone through almost everything by now, even the old orders.

“Carter, why don’t you take this lot down to the post office? It’ll be good to have it done.”

“How ‘bout the stuff in the orders that’s in the warehouse?”

“I’ll get ‘em after work. Or maybe you can go do it. We can ship them separately. We’ll figure it out later.”

So off I went in the van. Johnny at the post office looked like he couldn’t wait for retirement, but he took them all without complaining.

Ted sent me off to lunch when I got back. I looked at my watch and it was just a little later than I normally took my lunch, so I hurried and found Karen again in a conversation with a few of her high-school charges. She saw me and mouthed ‘Wait’.

In five minutes she was out, her purse over her shoulder.

“You were threatening them with the whip again?”

“No, actually they’ve kind of settled down now that they’ve finally recognized the fragility of their employment situation. They mostly do what they’re asked now. I’m a bit disappointed, I kind of liked reading the riot act to them.”

“Good for them. How was your visit to the cousins?”

“I’ll tell you later, over lunch.”

We did the deli again, she with a Chef’s Salad and me daringly going for the pastrami on rye. With dill pickle. We found a table outside, not too close to the others.

She took a bite of her salad. “The more things change, the more they stay the same.”

I raised my eyes, puzzled.

“My cousins. So I kinda hinted at what their interests were, and how ... dedicated they were at pursuing them. They started young, you remember. I think the younger was thirteen that time that I told you about. With the cucumbers.”

“I recall. Vividly.” She turned just the palest shade of pink.

“And the older one’s a year older than me. So the younger just graduated high school and will probably be doing community college in the fall. The older one has just finished her second year at CC and will likely transfer to the state university in the fall, she hasn’t decided.

“So the weird thing about the visit -- the parents were all doing their own thing on the patio with drinks -- the weird thing is that the two of them just cannot stop talking about sex. Who they’ve done it with, where they did it, who they’d like to do it to, things they might like to try. It’s like a contest, the two of them, seeing who can be the wildest.

“I think they just assumed that I’d be the same way, y’know, same family and all so it must be in the genes, so there wasn’t the least bit of embarrassment about all the raunchy things they’d done. They traded them back and forth like some people would trade recipes. It was a bit strange, like a compulsion.

“It made me think of some of the girls in the dorm and how they got just before exams. I told you about that, right? Find as many guys as you can to help you work the stress out. But with them, my cousins, it’s different, I think. It doesn’t have anything to do with stress relief, it’s just ... sex, wherever, whenever, whoever. I wondered if it really was a kind of nymphomania, egging each other on, kind of a sexual one-upmanship, a contest.

“After awhile I was almost like an afterthought, just a bystander, because each one would be trying to shock the other in some way. I was a little worried for them.”

“They weren’t trying to ferret secrets out of you, were they?”

“Not really. They gave me the opportunity, but it was clear that I wasn’t going to be going into a lot of detail about my experiences so I think they got bored and started poking at each other.”

“I only know what you’ve told me, but it really does sound compulsive. You told me once that the parents don’t really have a clue what’s going on in their kids’ lives. Is that still true?”

“Yeah, I think so. I got hints that they have a separate persona that they adopt when they’re at home, nice girls, interested in their studies, looking for the right guy.”

“I would think that psychologists would have a category for that kind of behavior, something that describes how they become different persons for the group they’re trying to fit into. The nymphomania is just a symptom, a manifestation of the character flaw.”

“You think they’re flawed?”

“I don’t really know them, but that kind of compulsive behavior usually has a basis. Maybe it’s just a way they’ve found of coping with the things that bother them. This behavior might be less destructive than some others.”

“We’re not really close, the three of us, even though I did spend time with them over the summers when I was younger. I think it got more intense later on.”

“Sounds that way. When do they have time to study?”

“You done, Carter? I’ve got to get back.”

We parted where the hallways branched off and I was back at work within my allotted time. Not that Ted would care, I didn’t think.

He was just finishing a sandwich, which looked like something he’d brought from home, maybe leftovers from the weekend.

“Hey, Carter. You remember we had that conversation last week, about inventory tracking?”

“I do.”

“I don’t know why it kept popping up over the weekend, but it did. Maybe it was my old man, bragging about how he always was able to keep this stuff in his head. He wasn’t, he’s just deluding himself, we ran out of things all the time because he forgot to resupply.

“Anyway, I was forced to admit that I’m no better at it than he was and with so many things in the catalog that’s not the best use of my time anyway. So I called my software guy this morning and asked, and sure enough there is an inventory module that can be added. It hooks into the order program and adjusts inventory accordingly, then warns you when you’re running out. So I ordered one.

“But that left the other issue we talked about, getting the items and descriptions into the database. I followed up on your suggestion and called the catalog company. It took a little detective work to find the right person, but the answer is that yes, they do have all that stuff on disk somewhere. And while they haven’t done it before, they agreed that for a price they’d be willing to share it.

“Now, there’s no guarantee that what they finally sell me will be in the right form to just pour into the database, but if I understand how these things work there’s magic that techies can perform that will tweak the data into a form that the database can digest. I think my software guy can do that, for a price, or he’ll know somebody who can.”

“That’s ... huge, Ted. Wow. You’ll finally have all your products in one place. I think there’s still some scut work to be done, because you’ll have to actually have to go through all the storerooms and the warehouse and count how many you have of everything and enter it. But that’s a finite task once you have a list of all the items and the descriptions. Maybe a few days work.”