Chapter 3: Holidays, Families, and a Photograph

After the three of us ate Sunday breakfast at my kitchen table and then some continued clean up from the party, I drove the two teens to the Dillon train station and watched them get on the ten-fifteen into the city where they’d change trains and head out to Westborough where they lived. I learned over breakfast that they occasionally left bicycles locked up at their home train station to speed the trip to and from home when they were using the train. I silently wondered what they did when it was sleeting, snowing, or pouring rain.

I spent the afternoon working on some of the consulting work I was doing for Robotix, the company outside of Portsmouth, New Hampshire, that was picking my brain about artificial intelligence algorithms and how they bridged into the bio-electro-mechanical world of robotics they were pioneering. I had a few ideas to which I added some meat. I got so into the project I didn’t come up for air until about eight p.m. when my stomach growled and complained about its empty condition.

One of the first things I did Monday morning was check on how Ashley and Chris had done on their mid-term exams. For many of the classes at the school, the mid-term postings also included a projection of the final grade for the semester for the student. I wasn’t surprised to see that both girls were pulling down straight A’s in their subjects, and they weren’t easy subjects either: macro-economics, public speaking, psychology, accounting, algorithms and data structures, theory of computation, and my own special projects class in artificial intelligence. I had not given them mid-term exams, but I did post their projected grade for the semester.

The availability of projected grades allowed a student’s faculty advisor to intervene in some way where they saw problem students. Typically, the focus was on freshmen, and I’d found with my advisees that the second semester of the freshmen year was often worse because many of the students pledged fraternities or sororities then, and their social life overtook their academic pursuits.

I heard a slight noise at my door and looked up just in time to see Ashley and Christine stick their heads in the door. They waved at me, checked in the hallway, apparently for other faculty or students, and then one giggled, “Hi, Teach!” They laughed before I could respond and then disappeared on their way to their algorithms class with Bart Iverson.

Deb Summer found me sitting alone having lunch in the student union. She sat down and immediately thanked me for the Halloween party on Saturday. We both noticed that some of the students wore modest costumes in the large lunch hall – a witch’s hat, cat whiskers, some unusual makeup. I liked the casual air the custom inspired around campus. Good, clean fun.

Deb asked, “So how are Christine and Ashley doing?”

I blushed slightly for some unknown reason, but responded, “Straight A’s, of course. I’m becoming intimidated by those two; I doubt there is anything they couldn’t do.”

I had a sudden idea and floated it with Deb. “What would you think about my involving them in some way with my consulting work? I mean, even taking them up to New Hampshire to meet the client and get some real work experience?”

“I think that’d be fabulous for them. Would they get paid? How would that work?”

“I just had the idea, give me a minute.” We both ate some of our lunch. I started in again, “I’m working on some speech pattern recognition algorithms, and they’re taking the algorithm class that Bart Iverson teaches. I’m sure I could build a bridge there where they could do some real work. I’d figure out how to pay them in some way for their contribution out of my paycheck if Ray Jennings, my clients, doesn’t want to put them on a 1099.”

Deb said thoughtfully, “Fourteen and fifteen year olds have to work outside of school hours and no more than three hours on a school day. Of course, those rules are built around a high school schedule. I don’t know what would pass as appropriate for college students those ages.”

“I could figure out how to wed it to a school project or classwork.”

“That’d get around those laws. Let me check with the university’s attorney to be sure we don’t get into trouble. I’ll email you about it later today or tomorrow if there’s a problem. Meanwhile, just do it.” She grinned. Deb was a ‘Just Do It’ person. She’d rather seek forgiveness than permission any day.

I held my breath hoping that Deb would forget that she’d not given the two teens a ride back in the direction of their home on Saturday night. I just didn’t want to have that discussion – an eligible older authority figure harboring two innocent and very young teens alone in his bachelor pad. It looked so wrong on so many levels.

Once I got back to my office, to remind me of the trouble I could encounter with the girls, I drew a small gallows in the upper left hand corner of my white board with an obviously dead stick figure whose red tongue was hanging out.

As November unfolded, the weather got unpleasant. We’d go days with clouds and showers, and sometimes drenching rains all day long. Temperatures always required heavy coats or slickers.

When Chris and Ash were in my office, I asked, “How do you get the train and stay dry in this weather?”

Ash said, “We don’t always. Chris’ parents drive us to the station some days, but it’s out of their way. We have yellow rain suits we can wear when we decide to ride our bicycles.”

I grimaced. “Not exactly conducive to wanting to come to campus, is it?”

“Oh, that’s all right. We just brush it off. This is where the action is. We wouldn’t miss being here and our classes for anything. If we get wet we can change clothes at the gym; we have big lockers there thanks to Mrs. Summer.”

I chuckled. My own attendance record as an undergraduate had not been sterling. My sophomore year I’d cut more than half of my classes. My GPA reflected my lack of enthusiasm, and I paid the price later when I decided to go to graduate school and didn’t have the range of choices I wanted.

I told the girls, “In the new winter semester I have a new idea for a project and I’m wondering if you’d be interested.”

Both girls leaned forward in their seats. Of course, they were interested. These two were probably the most motivated people I’d ever meet in the world.

“You’ve heard me mention that I consult to a company named Robotix up in New Hampshire. I was curious whether you’d like to join me on that project. I’ve talked to Deb Summer, and she’s checked with the university’s counsel, and I’ve also mentioned bringing in a couple of students to my clients up there.”

“YES!” They both yelled so loud and enthusiastically I could even hear their voices echo down the hallway outside my open office door. They then pestered me for details, and I told them a little about what I’d been doing. I also had picked up a couple of brochures about Robotix and pushed those down my glass desk to the two of them. They pored over the material trying to absorb it all in seconds.

I went on, “Since you’re fourteen I can pay you if Robotix doesn’t. You’ll be classified as ‘associate consultants’ in my consulting company. When the new semester starts, I’ll negotiate an hourly pay rate for each of you. You’ll also be taking a three credit special projects class, so you have to be aware of several things at once. This isn’t going to be like any of the standard college courses. Oh yes, Deb is going to be our outside observer for all of this. She’s not an engineer, but she’s there to make sure I don’t overwork you or impact your overall progress at the university.”

Both girls were positively twitching in their seats they were so excited. Their eyes were sparkling too with eagerness to make it all happen right then. I guess I’d given them a shot of adrenalin.

Before I could say another word they each shot up out of their chairs and came over to me. I got a kiss on each check, and then they sat down again and tried to regain their composure. They had grins from ear to ear.

Chris said, “This will be sooooo cool. All our studies and all have been theoretical. Now we’ll be able to do something in the ‘real world.’ I have to admit you scooped us. We had a request for you that we didn’t get to ask.

“What’s that?”

“Ashley and I are going to prepare Thanksgiving Dinner for our two families, and we want you to come and join us. We plan to do a turkey and all the trimmings. You don’t have to bring anything, just come out to Westborough about two o’clock next Thursday afternoon. My parents are hoping to meet you too, and maybe Ash’s mother.” They both looked eagerly in my direction.

I had no plans for Thanksgiving. Since Meghan’s departure from my life and since my parents were on the west coast of Florida for the rest of their lives, I planned a quiet weekend at home. A smile gradually spread across my face. This would be fun, and give me a unique look into the lives of two special students at the university that I really liked.

“I’d be delighted. What can I bring?”

“Just yourself. I’ll email you directions,” Chris said. “My mom and dad will be so proud to have you join us.”

“You did talk to them, I presume,” I posited knowing that typical fourteen year olds might be prone to precipitous invitations that would make their parents shudder.

“Of course. We’re not that dumb,” Ash said with her hands on her hips and a smirk.

Such it was that a week later, I knocked on the door of a small home in rural Westborough. A harried woman close to my own age opened the door with a smile. “Ah, Professor Clark. Welcome. Please come in.” The woman was slightly overweight with the same blonde hair as her daughter. I detected a slight Slovakian accent. She took my coat while insisting that I call her Margaret.

She took me into the living room where a man her age greeted me. This was Lenz, Chris’ father, who had an even deeper accent, but exuded friendship and warmth. I could see he too maintained the light haired heritage that Chris presented as a pretty blonde. He was exceptionally cordial, offering me a beer or wine. I accepted a glass of white wine, commenting that drinking in the middle of the afternoon was highly unusual. He laughed and said he felt the same way.

Chris and Ash came out of the home’s small kitchen wearing aprons and dressed up in pretty party dresses appropriate to more mature women. They each gave me polite hugs and kisses on the cheek. They gave a few bridge lines to get me into conversations with Chris’ parents, and soon enough we were also talking about the girl’s progress at the university.

I found it unusual that they didn’t fully comprehend the genuine uniqueness of their daughter’s progression to mid-level college courses at such a young age. I expressed that opinion, and Lenz allowed as how he too had jumped several grades in school, but overall hadn’t been academically inclined.

He said, “I just never had the motivation to go to college. I went to trade school instead, and then my parents migrated to the United States just after the Velvet Revolution when Czechoslovakia dissolved into separation states. I came too, and ended up doing precision machine work. The pay is not too good, but with what Margaret makes doing cleaning, we get by just fine.”

Before I could comment or question, there was another knock on the front door. Margaret scurried to the door, and opened it to admit another woman close to our age. After a flurry of greetings, I realized this was Ashley’s mother, Lisa.

Lisa instantly qualified as a fading bloom in more ways than one. She had thick makeup on, lipstick that was too red, hair that was too moussed and gelled, and too much black eyeliner and eye shadow that gave her a slight raccoon appearance, her dress was way too short for a family event, and too much cleavage showed to even be attractive. I’d seen this movie before. She was trolling for males, and given that I was the only single male in the mix, my defenses instantly went up.

I smiled benignly and shook Lisa’s hand when she offered it. This would be a stressful meal. I hadn’t anticipated being part of the servings.

Ashley came out to make sure I’d met her mother. I could see that she was uncomfortable with her mother’s makeup and dress, but she didn’t say anything. The eye roll told me that they’d had the needed discussions many times before, and that Ash’s principles of decorum had been violated.

Lisa went out of her way to situate herself next to me when we stood around chatting before dinner, and then made sure I knew she’d saved me a seat next to her at the crowded dining room table in the Czerny’s small dining room. I tried to be pleasant and accommodating while offering no encouragement to the woman.

Instead, I put my focus on the two young girls. This was an easy task since they had done all of the preparation and presentation, with a little advice from Margaret and some help from the Internet, Ash confessed. The meal was superb, and the best Thanksgiving meal I’d ever had, and I was lavish in my praise and gratitude.

I also raved about the teens’ performance at the university, talking about how unique they were, and how they had so many people watching out for their best interests. The girls blushed but accepted the accolades.

I, in turn, became the focus of their comments about being the best professor on campus, the most innovative and creative, and the most influential in their lives since they’d left the public school system. I assured everyone that it was easy to create great results when given greatness to work with, meaning the two girls.

I talked with group about the upcoming end of the semester, the holiday break, and then starting some of the consulting work with them at Robotix. Everyone was attentive, and Lenz asked some good questions about what was involved in the work and what the girls could contribute. I’m not sure he understood what an algorithm was, but I tried to get the message across in twenty-five words or less.

Lisa also slowly milked my own situation from me, and I shared the results sparingly. The two teens at the table knew more than I revealed, and I could tell by the questions that they had shared little of what we’d talked about with her. She also was flirting outrageously, putting her hands on my arm, trying to hold my hand, doing the hair flip thing, and even touching my thigh in an arousing but unwelcome way. She often leaned into me frequently so close I worried I’d end up with some of her pancake makeup on my dress shirt. I unsuccessfully tried to send vibes that told her to back off.

We finished dinner about five-thirty. I immediately volunteered to help the girls cleanup the kitchen and to finish carving up the bird so the Czerny family could have leftovers, and with gratitude they allowed me to do those tasks. This allowed me to be in the kitchen with the teens as they did their share of the cleanup. We did converse, but only about the wonderful meal and how they’d taught themselves to cook. When we finished about forty-five minutes later, we went into the living room to join the others.

Lisa patted an empty seat next to her on the plush sofa and I subtly avoided glancing directly in that direction to avoid the full-court press she had planned. Ash conveniently rushed a straight-back dining room chair into the room about then. She winked at me, and I guessed that this was a test of some kind by the teen.

I grabbed the chair with my back to Lisa and thanked her for getting me a chair that offered some stiff support for my weary back. I feigned great pain from having done so much work in the kitchen; at least Lenz and Margaret laughed at my self-deprecating humor. Lisa looked peeved when Ashley sat down next to her instead of me. Chris brought in another chair. We had coffee, and despite all the food and pie, even a few early Christmas cookies the two girls had managed to bake that morning.