Chapter 4: Early Summer

July 10, 1987, Lombard, Illinois

"Hello, Mr. Puccini," I said, shaking his hand.

"It's Dante! Everyone calls me Dante! I believe I said that last time."

"You did," I said. "Sorry about that, Dante."

"So what do you three have for me?" he said.

"We have a proposed statement of work and a proposed contract," Julia said.

"Let's go into the conference room and discuss them."

We followed him into the same conference room that we'd been in the previous time we'd been to his office. It was quite well-appointed, with a beautiful hardwood table and comfortable leather chairs. We sat down, and Julia handed out copies of the statement of work and the contract.

"Is everything I asked for here?" he asked.

"There are some exceptions called out at the bottom. There were a few things that we don't believe are possible, and a few others that might be possible, but we're unable to give a price for. Those would be time and materials if you wanted us to attempt them."

"I thought you guys said you knew Macs really well! Why are all the Mac issues listed in the exceptions?"

We'd anticipated that question. My proposed response of 'Because we know Macs really well' had been shot down by Dave, I gave the answer we'd agreed on instead.

"Because as of right now, there aren't many good options for networking Macs and PCs. There are no Novell cards for the Mac and there is no Novell client. There is an AppleTalk stack for the PC, but it can't coexist with Novell. There just isn't enough memory to load all the software that would be required. We don't think an AppleTalk solution is right for you, because it would seriously limit your network."

"What about the electronic mail system?"

"It runs into the same problem, though we should be able to solve it by having the Mac cc:Mail file server call the PC cc:Mail file server by modem to deliver mail. But we've never done that, and it's only a theory that we have. It should work, but we don't know for sure. Another possibility would be a Unix server running Sendmail, but you would need to connect to the Unix server from each PC or Mac with a terminal emulator and then use something like Elm. A third possibility is some kind of BBS system.

"There's also the issue of remote access. For anyone in the field to access your electronic mail, they would need a computer. There are portable computers, so to speak, like the Compaq, but that thing weighs more than twenty-five pounds and personally, I wouldn't call it 'portable'. The press has called it a 'luggable', which is about right, and the screen is pretty small as well. There are other options that we could look into for you."

"What about the software? I see you called out an exception there as well."

"Only from the standpoint that we'll have to customize some of our software to do what you want. The customizations are called out on page 2 as an addendum to the statement of work. Those costs are in addition to what you see in the line items for the base software set forth in the contract."

"I'll want my attorney to review the contract before I sign. Now, I'd like to bring in a couple of my people to go over the details with you, especially the project timeline."

"That's fine. I have a detailed project plan with me that we can review, in addition to the specifics for each line item."

Dante left and returned with three people — the Vice President of Technology, Jack; an accountant, who was his younger sister Daniela; and a manager, his younger brother Dario. He'd mentioned previously that it was a family business, and that certainly seemed to be true. We spent the next two hours going over every detail, line-by-line. We made copious notes and tried to make sure that all six of us were on the same page.

When we finished, Jack walked us to the lobby. I asked politely where Dante was, and Dario said that he was taking delivery on a new Ferrari. We shook hands with Dario and walked out. We passed a couple of employees on the sidewalk, staring at Dante and his new car. I heard them mutter 'no raises, but he buys that fucking car?' and 'What an asshole!' as we walked by.

"So, what did you think?" Julia asked when we got into the car.

"He seems like a really great guy," Dave said. "And he has some seriously visionary ideas. I think this is going to be a great deal, and we should make quite a bit of money. The only problem is scheduling."

I thought he had a potentially serious morale problem, but that really wasn't our concern. But it was something I needed to make sure never happened at NIKA.

"I think that we need to give him a revised statement of work based on the conversation we just had," I said.

"I agree," Julia said. "I'll give him a call when we get back. He looked like he was completely engrossed in his new car."

"You would be, too, if you paid six figures for a car!" I chuckled.

That evening, I had my weekly call with Stephie, and wished her 'Happy birthday'. She seemed a bit out of it, which she chalked up to the opiate-based narcotics she was taking to knock down the pain. It wasn't that she wasn't lucid, it was just that her responses were slower and more muted than they had been. I knew that it was only going to get worse, and at some point, she wouldn't even be able to have these calls. The amazing thing was that she was still staying positive and doing her best to make ME feel better. She told me that Martha and Bill had come to visit and had dinner with them. Jason was doing OK, working at the garage, and Stephie's mom, Emily, LeAnn, and a few other girls were staying with Stephie while he was at work.

July 11, 1987, Chicago, Illinois

"How long is this shift?" I asked.

"It's ONLY twenty-four hours," Jessica laughed.

"How did you luck out with that?"

"Luck? I have to be back at 5:00am on Monday for a thirty-six-hour shift. On the plus side, there are fewer people on, so I get to do more. The downside is, I get to do more."

"You lost me," I said.

"Tonight I'll be on with the Attending and a PGY3 Resident. That means they'll both try to sleep and make me do everything until I get in over my head. Oh, and I'll be supervising some Third and Fourth Year medical students doing their clinical rotations."

"Supervising? Remind me not to get sick or be in an accident tonight!" I chuckled.

"I am a doctor, Mr. Adams!"

"A scary thought!" I said.

"Watch it, Tiger, or you might find yourself missing a valuable asset!" she teased.

"Jess, I'd be very, very sad," Kara said. "And so would you."

"It was an empty threat, wasn't it?" she said with a laugh.

"What's your plan for tomorrow?" Kara asked.

"Sleep!" Jessica said. "For the morning, anyway. I can't sleep too late because I need to get some sleep tomorrow night before my long shift that starts Monday morning. Can we spend time together tomorrow?"

"Of course," I replied lovingly. "Whatever you want."

"Good. Kiss me, please! I need to get inside."

Kara and I kissed and hugged Jessica and watched her walk into the ER.

"She's seriously supervising medical students?" Kara asked as we walked home hand-in-hand.

"So it would seem," I said. "She is a doctor, after all."

"It just seems strange."

"The entire system for training doctors seems strange to me," I said. "But then I look at Doctor Barton, Doctor Robertson, and some other doctors that I've met through work, and they seem very good. We're outsiders to their little club."

"Do you really think she's going to make a mistake that causes someone to die?" Kara asked.

"Doctor Barton said it's pretty much a certainty. She will make a mistake and someone will die. It happened to him. I know he's been talking to her about it, but you heard her."

"I could never be a doctor," Kara said.

"Me, neither," I agreed.

When we arrived home, we made some tea and went to sit in the Indian room until it was time for me to leave for breakfast with the guys. I kissed Kara goodbye and headed for Bucktown. Dave waved me over when I arrived, and I went to sit at a large table that had been set for us.

"Hi! I'm Alex Saunders," a gregarious, slightly balding man with a bit of paunch said. "This is my place. Welcome!"

"Steve Adams," I said, extending a hand.

"Well, Steve Adams, I hope you're ready for the best breakfast ever!"

"That's a pretty big promise, Mr. Saunders," I said.

"Call me 'Mr. Saunders' again and you'll find arsenic in your tea or coffee! The name is Alex!"

I noticed a touch of a Canadian accent from the sound of some of his vowels.

"Dave tells me that you just started serving breakfast."

"That's right. I want to build a regular clientele. Get to know people. My lunch and dinner trade is pretty good, but that's upscale. Breakfast, I want down home, if you know what I mean."

"If you put grits on my plate, I think my friends in Georgia might call foul!" I chuckled.

"Grits? No chance! I'm from Foleyet, Ontario. That's about as far from Georgia as you can imagine. It's a tiny town that nobody ever heard of. I moved to Chicago with my folks at age thirteen, and I've been here ever since. We play hockey where I'm from. Atlanta couldn't support their team and it moved to Calgary!"

"Hockey in the South makes about as much sense as an outdoor swimming pool in Murmansk!" I said with a grin.

The rest of our friends arrived, and Alex introduced himself to each person, and to my amazement, kept all the names straight, despite hearing them only once. When everyone had arrived, a waitress, Pam, came to take our orders under Alex's watchful eye. When she'd finished, he stayed to chat until the food came, then disappeared into the kitchen.

"He seems like a great guy," Nick said.

There were nods and agreement around the table.

"Wait until you meet his wife, Sam," Pete said. "She's about half his age!"

"It keeps me young!" Alex said, walking back towards the table from the kitchen. "Her mom was a Senior at the High School when I was a Freshman."

"No way!" Jamie laughed.

"I have the Yearbook to prove it. Including a dedication from her mom!"

"Steve, buddy, I think you may have met your match!" Karl laughed.

"My match?" I chuckled. "He only has ONE wife. I have two!"

"An ex-wife at your age is nothing to brag about," Alex said.

"Who said anything about an EX-wife? I have two current wives."

"They lock you up for stuff like that!" Alex retorted.

"Only if you get two marriage certificates or try to claim them on your taxes," Jamie said.

"You're serious? Two wives? I thought marrying a girl eighteen years younger than I am was a feat. How the heck do you manage TWO wives?"

"It's a long story," I chuckled. "But I also have kids by two other women. Intentionally."

Alex gave me an odd look.

"He's not kidding," Nick said. "And with the exception of Karl and Chris, he dated all of our wives or girlfriends at one point or another."

"So the kid's a regular Don Juan and Jack Kennedy mixed together?"

"Minus Marilyn Monroe, yeah, I guess so!" Dave said. "Though his second wife is the best-looking girl any of us knows."

"And if you repeat THAT to our wives, we'll have to kill you!" Kurt said with a grin.

"What are you talking about, Kurt?" Nick said with a smirk. "You know Steve prefers your wife to all the rest of them put together, including Kara!"

I just chuckled, shaking my head, wondering what impression I was causing on our new friend!

"I am missing something here," Alex said. "Steve sounds like something right out of a Penthouse Letter! You know, one of those unbelievable letters about crazy exploits?"

"How did you get into the restaurant business?" I asked, hoping to change the subject.

"I just sort of fell into it," he said. "I was a Senior in college, working on a history degree. An uncle of mine who I barely knew died and left me a little bit of money. I was sitting at a table here studying when I overheard the owner saying that the restaurant was failing, and he was probably going to close it. I got to talking to him, and the next thing you know, I bought his equipment and took over the lease.

"I was a decent cook, so I hired a waitress and a busboy who doubled as a dishwasher, and started serving lunch. I worked between morning and afternoon classes. My goal was just to break even until I got out of school, and then figure out what to do. It was a hit right away. I found a good mix of upscale, trendy, and traditional that people seemed to like, at a price that they felt was fair, and that made me profitable.

"I got my degree and opened for dinner a week later with one more waitress and an assistant in the kitchen. I hosted, cooked, did whatever to make it work. Twenty years later, it's going gangbusters. Then, a couple of months ago, I got the idea of doing a traditional, family-style breakfast restaurant. So three weeks ago, I put away the starched white tablecloths and all the other upscale kitsch, got these blue-and-white checkered cloths, and the deep blue plates. You saw the menu, and other than a couple of specialty omelets, it's all very traditional, home-cooked stuff. Now you know my story, what do you guys do for a living?"

"Navy JAG lawyer," Karl said.

"Me, too," Nick said.

"Logistics officer in the Navy," Howard said.

"Corporate and tax attorney," Jamie said.

"NIS agent, but you know that," Pete said.

"Research biochemist," Kurt said.

"I have my own computer software and consulting company," I said.

"Director of Software Development for Steve's company," Dave said.

"Architect," Chris said.

"One of our usuals who's not here is a newly minted Electrical Engineer," Pete said. "And speaking of Jorge, when is he coming back, Steve?"

"At the end of the month, according to my sister," I said.

"Well, I'll let you eat," Alex said. "I'll come back when you're having coffee."

We finished eating, and true to his word, Alex was back when Pam refilled our coffee cups. We talked for about fifteen minutes, but then I had to get going because I had to meet the girls for karate class. When I picked up the bill to do the quick math to split it evenly, I saw that the original amount had been crossed out and a new amount, about 10% lower, had been written in by hand.

"Thanks, Alex," I said.

"I want you guys to come back. You're good people, and exactly the kind of customers I want! Having a large table full of happy people is the best possible marketing I could do!"

We thanked him, and after paying the check and leaving a generous tip for Pam, we left the restaurant. I didn't have time to hang around, so I walked right to my car, got in, and headed home. I arrived just in time to get my red gi, and then walk to the dojo with Kara, Sofia, and my sister. Once we were back from Russia, Jessica would be joining us when her schedule allowed, which probably would be no more than once or twice a week. But it would be a start.

After karate, I did some things around the house. After Bethany had moved out, I'd put off the idea of changing the old 'study' room into an actual study, because we didn't need the room off the kitchen as a bedroom. I had purchased some nice bookshelves for the study room and had rearranged it more as a library than a study room by removing some desks and adding some chairs. I'd also moved the table with the chess board from the great room into what we were now referring to as the 'library'.

Late in the afternoon, Elyse, Kara, and I took Jesse and Matthew for a walk in Washington Park. Jesse had finally come around to having Matthew around, so long as we didn't refer to Jesse as a baby. He was, in his own mind, a boy now, and that seemed to be sufficient to solve his problem.

Chapter 5 »