Chapter 28

“Well, Missus Gardner, yes that is a fact. I have a proposition for you,” said Owen Cord.

“A proposition. You see my burns Mister Cord. You’re a good looking guy, and you want to proposition someone who looks like me. What’s the matter you afraid no normal woman would want you or something. Or are you some kind of pervert, Mister Cord?”

“Huh? What? No, no, no, no,” he said. “Nothing like that, and no it’s not for me. I’m married, happily married. No it’s for a friend. He’s in tough like you. He got his injuries in the war though. He’s a real life hero. Saved a lot of guys and a nurse. But his face ... And he is in a wheelchair for life. He needs a woman.

“Missus Gardner, I’m in a position to do real good by him and by you. You don’t have to agree to anything right now. It’s almost Christmas. I’m going to fete a Christmas dinner and party for wounded war vets. I’d like you to come and meet the man. He won’t know that I’m, we’re, setting him up to meet you. But, if you decide to maybe date him, be with him well, you know; I’ll guarantee your futures, the two of you, to the tune of ten million dollars. How about it?” he said.

“And you’ll cover my rehab bills one hundred percent even if it doesn’t work out, right, that’s what you said before, right.”

“Yes,” he said. The woman in the four-wheel walker across from him nodded.

“Okay,” she said. “I’ll meet the guy. Why not. And maybe it will work out,” she said. “How ugly did you say he was?”

“He’s in pretty tough,” he said. The woman nodded.

“Okay, what have I got to lose,” she said.

“Nothing,” he said.

“Dad you have to come,” said Mia.

“Yes,” said Sarah. “We’re going to be there, and our hero dad needs to be there too,” said my now twenty year-old daughters.

I sighed. I guess I didn’t have a choice, thanks to my good friend Claire Cunningham. “Okay,” I said. “I’ll be there. But there are going to be two conditions. One, no presents for me, and two you two girls must come like you say you are. Okay?” I said.

“Okay, Dad, we promise,” said Sarah.

“I understand the party thing. He’ll meet someone there for sure, but ten million to Glades to get a particular non-vet attendee?” said Abigail.

“Not exactly,” said Owen. “I was going to give the money to Glades anyway, I just tied a couple to strings to the mix. We’re picking up $120 million annual on interest alone on the $2.2 billion in our liquid investments. Ten million is hardly going to be missed,” said Owen.

“I understand. I guess Glades was happy to help you out,” she said.

“Yes, I guess you could say that,” he said. “Yes, you definitely could say that with confidence.”

“Hmm, yes,” she said.

I’d just grabbed my keys to get going over to the Christmas party when I heard someone knocking on my door.

“Mia!” I said. “Aren’t you going to the party?”

“Oh yes, Dad. Just like I, we, promised. And we’re taking you.” She said.

“Huh? I can drive,” I said.

“Uh-uh,” she said. “We’re making sure you don’t leave early. We’re smarter than that.”

I scowled. “You don’t trust me?” I said.

“Not a lick,” she said. “Come on. Sarah’s waiting and the car is running.”

“I put my keys in my pocket and she wheeled me to the car out at the curb some fifty yards distant.

“You two girls have got to learn to trust your old man,” I said, as we rode toward the Horseshoe Country Club where the party was being held.”

“We do trust you, Dad. We trust you to do as you always do anymore. But this one is kind of in honor of you and you can’t leave early. The only ones leaving later than us will be the cleanup crew Daddy’s hired,” said Mia.

“In honor of me?” I said.

“Yes, we talked to Miss Cunningham, who will be there by the way, and Sergeant Jeff too. They are planning something you’re not supposed to know about, so pretend you don’t know,” said Mia.

“Yeah, yeah,” I said.

The ride took some little time, maybe half an hour. I’d never been there. I’m sure I couldn’t have afforded it had I had to pay my own way, but I wasn’t and I was going, reluctantly going. Well, I hated honoraria.

We pulled into the valet gate and Sarah, who’d been driving, got out and gave the keys to the man. Mia helped me with my chair and wheeled me in.

The place was big and it was full. There had to be five hundred people. Most were wearing veterans caps with the names of their units or ships or whatever on them. I hadn’t dressed military for the occasion. I’d thought about it because it was a vet event that Owen was sponsoring. I had figured that I was going to be embarrassed by the lot of them. Maybe have to make some kind of proforma speech or other, but had decided against it, wearing my military hardware. I just wore a suit instead. It was enough.

“I see the girls really did corral you,” said Owen, coming up to me.

“And then they abandoned me to my fate,” I said. I really was a little miffed that they’d dumped me almost immediately after shepherding me inside.

“Well, don’t worry Ronald’s here and he has Dad duty tonight,” said Owen.

“Hi, Dad,” said Ronald, coming up behind me and surprising me. I smiled; it was a nice surprise.

“Ronald, I didn’t see you,” I said. “So you’re your Dad’s baby sitter tonight.”

“Dad, you’re not a baby!” he said.

“Hmm, well maybe not to you. Others might be inclined to differ,” I said, but I was smiling.

Over the next couple of hours, say by 9:00 p.m., I was decreasingly less harassed by the kids, to the point where I was more or less left to my own devices. They or the dynamic duo, who had also been around me a lot in the early going, seemed to get it that I wanted to interact with my peers.

One odd thing, Jeff and Abigail’s wing-woman, Harriet who’d come in a little later than the rest of us. Had left together; there seems to have been some kind of a relationship slowly working itself out between the two of them. I had heard from Abigail, kind of obliquely that they had been kind of off and on since first getting together.

Around 9:30, Abigail showed up with Ronald and the twins in tow again. They were going home she said. It had been an exhausting day. I would be getting a ride home with the man. I shrugged at the news. I was having a good time talking with this vet and that; well, we did have a ton in common: we, well most of us were wounded vets, and the few who weren’t were the significant others of those who were.

A sad commentary on the event, and it was sad, and boy could I relate, most of us didn’t have significant others. I guess our war wounds were worth honoring but not living with. Helluva note, and like I said, I sure as hell could relate.

One thing in particular I was grateful for: I didn’t have to make a speech. I’d really thought that I was going to have to. At one point, near the 9:00 p.m. mark, Claire Cunningham, who of course had also come to the do, and who wasn’t a “wounded” vet, but who had cared for many who were in her duty as an Army nurse, took to the lectern.

She read out an honor roll of all of the Purple medaled vets in attendance. I was one of those, and it took her some time to announce the names of 377 vets. It was enough. After the Honoria the party got going in a more serious vein.

A number of people seemed to be making a point to introduce themselves to me. Of course, most all of them were disabled vets. I saw it as likely that the hands of my good friends Jeff and Claire had something to do with that. In fact I thought there to be damn little doubt about it.