Chapter 30

The plan had formed in the north one dawn while he was paddling on one of his solitary treks. The lake had come alive with the first flush of dawn. The lonesome call of a loon sounded. The mirror-smooth lake was turning rose-colored with the dawn light.The scene was so unspeakably, utterly beautiful that it made a loneliness come over him without warning—a simple, longing ache of wanting to share this with the girls. He imagined what they would say about it. He couldn’t describe the yearning, so he defined it as loneliness.

He thought back to the three at the lunch table, considered Sheila’s theatrical pronouncements, Keiko’s mischief, and Katherine’s oh-so-dry snark.

His mind had gone from the no-time to New York City. Katherine had mentioned she’d like to visit to Keiko, who had been to New York once and found it overwhelming and fascinating in equal measure. Sheila, who had never been, longed to be there for the theater.

The plan had assembled itself, and all that week his notebook filled with logistics—the timing, the hotel, the sequence of asking permissions, the credit card the Colonel had provided and which he had not yet used.

Wow, he thought, what a rich kid thing to do. But he was not an ice cream kid. He would never be an ice cream kid. But he had resources now, and the plan was good.

He was home now and ready to put his plan in motion.

The girls’ fathers were the potential roadblocks to his plan.

The mothers would, he suspected, be easier—not because they were less protective, but because they would read the gesture differently than a father would regarding his sixteen-year-old daughter alone with a boy in a hotel suite in New York. The fathers required a direct approach, one that anticipated concern and addressed it before it was voiced.

He would see them separately, in their own territory.

Richard Gallagher first.

He had put some thought into the order—Keiko’s father was the most formal and cosmopolitan and would likely be the easiest despite the security concerns; he should be last, after Quinn had his approach down pat. Sheila’s father would be the most protective, but he liked Quinn and trusted him. Katherine’s father was the one he knew least well, despite dinner at their house. The least known quantity went first.

He called the Gallagher house on a Wednesday evening and asked for Mr. Gallagher directly.

Richard Gallagher had a voice that communicated his professional life—assured, direct, confident.

“Hello, Quinn, what’s up?” he said.

“I’d like to meet with you if you have time,” Quinn said. “There is something I want to ask you. I’d rather do it in person.”

A pause. “How about my office? Friday at noon?”

“Yes, sir. I’ll be there. Thank you.”

Gallagher Capital was on the thirty-fourth floor of a high-rise in San Francisco’s financial district. The views communicated the firm’s status in the city. Richard Gallagher’s office had the feel of someone who had made his environment match his persona—substantial, organized but not ostentatious; the furniture for comfort rather than display.

He stood when Quinn came in. They shook hands across the desk.

Quinn sat when invited, looked at Richard Gallagher directly, and began.

“I want to take Katherine, Sheila, and Keiko to New York for a long weekend before school starts,” he said. “Flying there on the Colonel’s plane. We’ll be staying at the Plaza, coming back Monday. Shopping, a play if they want to see one. I’d be in a separate room. I planned it in Canada this summer.”

He stopped. He’d decided to front-load the information so that the opinion Richard Gallagher was about to form would be based on accurate facts rather than incomplete ones.

Richard Gallagher looked at him.

The look had the quality Quinn had come to associate with him: the shrewd mind processing, the variables being weighed. His expression did not change during this process, which was an interesting form of professional discipline that Quinn noted.

“You planned this in Canada,” he said.

“Yes, sir. On one of the solo sections.

“And you thought about my daughter.”

“I thought about all three of them,” Quinn said. “I was unexpectedly lonely for their company. The plan came out of that.” He paused. “I have the means. I knew they’d enjoy New York before school. I thought it would be fun to surprise them.”