Chapter 2

Paul Armstrong had been Mark's roommate in his last year of their undergraduate collegiate studies. Together they had made the rounds of the various sorority houses and collectively could account for numerous broken hearts and hymens of the residents of those houses. As dashing and handsome as Mark appeared to the girls, in their eyes, Paul represented the handsome escort accompanying the beautiful models in the fashion magazines. His look was clean, rugged and classic. He was an accomplished skier on both snow and water, on horseback he clearly was in command, and on a dance floor, he was as graceful as could be imagined. To the high society that was world of Southern sororities, he was very much an eligible bachelor, and like his roommate, equally elusive.

After graduation, while Mark went on to obtain a law degree, Paul continued his studies in finance and economics. With the advanced degree in hand, he joined one of the larger financial firms in Atlanta, initially as an understudy in the mergers and acquisitions department and then later was allowed to enter the trading areas of the firm. It was there that his talents blossomed, where he repeatedly proposed and made trades that returned substantial earnings for both the firm and himself. By his twenty-fifth birthday, his annual income was well into the seven figure numbers. Like his friend Mark, Paul did not have time to fall in love. He had nothing against the idea of settling down and having a family; he was just not ready to do that yet. He had far too many other things to accomplish before he could take on the role of husband and father. He had come close, once, to the idea that he had met a potential mate, but as their relationship continued, she had become more and more impatient with him and devastated by the image of her being considered an "old maid". After an evening of unpleasant words, she had issued an ultimatum, an either/or, and Paul opted for the or.

He joined Mark as he often did on Wednesday evenings at the Men's grill of their country club. "What did you think of that wedding?"

"Well, as weddings and receptions go, it was quite nice. It had to cost her father a fortune, though."

"No doubt about that. They didn't cut any corners. I don't know how late you guys stayed, but that band played until two in the morning."

"No, we left about midnight."

"So, how was your date? She certainly is pretty enough, my God. When I think of all the girls we have met over the years, she has to be in the top three or four from just a beauty standpoint."

"Debbie is a very nice girl, and yes, I agree, she is certainly beautiful. I enjoyed my evening with her. I guess what is different about her is that I can relax around her. There doesn't seem to be a need for me to be on guard. I can goof up, say something stupid, stumble into her because I am not paying attention and damn near knock her over, and yet she is not upset or embarrassed for me. She just seems to be fun to be with."

"Well, you looked like you were having a good time. The only thing I remember about her in college is that she made the Dean's list for grades each semester, so she must have it up there as well. What does she do?"

"She teaches high school math and coaches the cheerleaders."

"Is that going to be a problem for you?"

"I don't know yet. I hope not, because I have enjoyed my time with her. We have gone out several times since then."

"What about that other girl, the one you took to the prom?"

Mark paused, thinking about how he should reply. "I'm glad you mentioned her. I was going to call you, but time got away from me today. We're on for this Saturday afternoon." To cover the grin that was forming on his mouth, he quickly took a drink.

"We're on for what, Mark? What did you do now? I've got a golf match with some guys from work."

"Well, cancel it, or postpone it or something. Make up some excuse. I need you."

There was a tone of frustration in Paul's voice. "Mark, what did you do? What are we doing on Saturday afternoon, and how does it relate to the girl at the prom?"

"Yes," he paused, "that girl at the prom. Her name is Sandy, Sandy Mason. I received a personal invitation from the Principal of her school asking me to attend the graduation ceremony this Saturday afternoon. I guess I must have made an impression on him at the prom or something. He included two tickets and a request that I respond, so I acknowledged the receipt and confirmed that we would attend."

"You did what?"

"I called him and thanked him for the invitation and told him that, as close personal friends of the Mason family, we would be happy to attend."

"Why do I let you rope me into things like this? Why don't you take Debbie instead?"

"A couple of reasons, Paul. First, if I show up with Debbie it will break Sandy's heart. It was bad enough that I wouldn't stay with her after the prom. I'm sure she thinks she loves me. Showing up with competition would not be a good idea. The second reason is that by bringing you along, it subtly separates us a little more so that the message I am sending by attending is one of friendship, not romance."

"That is just heavy! Only you could think up something like this! What do you do at a high school graduation?"

"As far as I know, you just sit and applaud when the kids' names are announced. At least that's all I am planning on doing."

Paul shook his head and ordered another round for them both. "I really don't know how I get mixed up in these crazy adventures. I really don't."

"Oh, another thing," Mark added an afterthought, "then we'll take them to dinner."

"For God's sake, Mark..." Paul said in a very plaintive voice.

"I'll pick you up at noon. Coat and tie."

When they arrived at the school, they discovered that parking spaces were at a premium. The closest spot Mark could find was nearly two blocks away. Walking from the car, Paul observed several parents pointing at them and wondered what that was all about. He asked Mark, but Mark said he had no idea. When they entered the auditorium, Mark saw that their seats were reserved and inside a roped off section.

As they took their seats, Paul asked, "Mark, is there something else that I don't know about?"

"No, Paul, I'm not sure I understand either," but there was little certainty in his voice. Mark's suspicions became clearer as the row filled with assorted VIPs including the Congressman from that district, the Mayor, and assorted other people whose faces seemed familiar but whose names escaped him. The ceremony began as the President of the local school board stood in front of the podium. He welcomed the parents and friends of the graduates and thanked everyone for coming to honor them. Before calling for the students to be seated, he introduced the various VIPs in attendance, moving quickly down their seat row until he reached Mark.

"Lastly, it is indeed an honor to welcome and introduce to you a man who bears the name of one of the most important persons in the history of the State of Georgia, General Cadmus Marcellus Wilcox. His great grandson, Cadmus Marcellus Wilcox, IV, represents General Wilcox, about whom we all studied while in school. Please welcome Mr. Wilcox to our school."

As did the others, Mark stood and acknowledged the introduction and the thunderous applause that accompanied it.

When the applause ended, Paul turned to Mark and asked quietly, "Does that happen often?" but Mark simply sighed in reply. The students filed into the room and sat in the rows directly in front of Mark and Paul. As it happened, Billy Carpenter, the young man that had created the drama with Sandy Mason, sat directly in front of Mark. As he walked through the seat row, he saw Mark and recognized him from the night of the prom. Once seated, he turned around to face Mark.

"What are you doing here? This is supposed to be for family."

Mark considered the boy's question and the amount of sadness that he had caused Sandy and Jennifer Mason. He leaned forward and replied quietly, "Why Billy, I only came to torment you. I knew it would make you feel uncomfortable, and I even brought a friend along, just in case we have an opportunity to meet privately with you. You understand, don't you?"