Chapter 15: New Students

May 7, 2000, Chicago, Illinois

“Do you have a few minutes?” Stephanie asked when she showed up unexpectedly at the house late on Sunday morning.

“Sure,” I said, feeling a bit of dread at what I was sure the topic was going to be. “The girls are in the sunroom. Albert spent last night with his brothers in the burbs. They won’t be here until after the Rap Session.”

Stephanie sent David and Patricia to play with my daughters and she and I went into my study.

“What’s up?” I asked.

“There are a bunch of calls, one or two nearly every day, to a number I didn’t recognize on our cell phone bill.”

“Global Security can identify that number for you.”

“I called the number and Adrianne answered. I hung up.”

“Adrianne?” I asked.

“Tabitha’s older sister.”

Tabitha was their regular babysitter and was fifteen. I couldn’t think of any reason Ed would be regularly calling a girl who I suspected was between seventeen and nineteen, except for the same reason I would - an intimate relationship. Even with my mentoring relationship with Natalie, we didn’t talk on the phone more than once a week, if even that.

“Not that it matters, but how old?”

“Seventeen. The calls go back almost six months.”

“I take it he’s still alive?” I asked, not entirely without concern.

“Yes. I wanted to talk to you before I did anything more.”

“Did you hear anything from Ted?”

“No. He’s supposed to call tomorrow.”

“Give him the information,” I said. “If he can get any evidence of them getting together, it makes your case for you.”

“Justifiable homicide?” she said menacingly.

“Seriously, Squirt, it’s not worth it. But one thing bothers me - what if I had been able to find a traveling companion?”

“I wondered about that, too, but I think given what I found, he’d have come up with some other pretext. Samantha thinks it’s about trying to blackmail me. You know I make way more than he does and have all those assets from working for Samantha which are purely in my name.”

“That just seems so out of character for Ed,” I replied.

“And cheating fits?” she asked.

“Well, no. I wouldn’t have suspected him, but as I think about it, he’s been more aloof the last few months. Get your proof, then talk to Gwen Meyer. And please don’t murder him.”

“Maim?” she asked, sounding deadly serious. “Make sure his little playmate has nothing to play with?”

“To be honest, you don’t seem as upset as I thought you would be.”

“When was the last time you saw me cry?”

“When we first went to Doctor Mercer for help.”

“And before that?”

“Rarely. You always tended to be the calm one growing up. Where’s Ed this morning?”

“Allegedly playing golf with the guys. I have half-a-mind to call and find out.”

“Let me,” I replied.

I pulled out my cell phone and dialed Kurt’s number.

“I’m on the fifteenth fairway,” he said quietly. “Can I call you back?”

“Just a quick question,” I said. “I’m trying to find Ed. Is he playing with you?”

“No. He didn’t play last week, either. And he hasn’t come with us to the indoor driving range all winter. Is there a problem?”

“No. I just need to talk to him and he wasn’t picking up. I’ll let you go.”

We said ‘goodbye’ and hung up.

“Not there?” Stephanie asked. “Figures.”

“And wasn’t there last week, and hasn’t joined them at that new indoor driving range they’ve been going to since it got too cold and snowy to play.”

“And he’s been telling me he was with them every Sunday morning. What an asshole!”

“Give all the information to Ted and get confirmation,” I said.

“I’m going to hang out here today, if you don’t mind.”

“When have I ever minded? You can join the Rap Session if you want.

“Hmm. Virile teenage boys...” she smirked.

“I hate to break it to you, but today’s teenagers are NOTHING like us when we were growing up.”

“How the HELL did Mom and idiots like Kara’s old pastor win?”

“Don’t forget Francesca’s mom and the idiot parents at the school who need fainting couches every time Jesse or Birgit say anything about our family.”

“How do people who grew up when we did lose their minds?” Stephanie asked. “I bet you anything you care to wager Carol was screwing in High School.”

“And she was sleeping with Stan before she married him. Francesca knew about it, too, despite Carol insisting that Francesca wouldn’t know. But even with the Rap Sessions, I feel as if I’m fighting a losing battle. My cadre of subversives isn’t big enough to effect real change when pretty much everything and everyone is allied against us.”

“What I don’t get is the feminists. The entire point was equality and getting rid of the stigma that a woman who had sex outside of marriage was a slut. Now it’s turned into an attack on men, and claims that sex is about power and nothing else. And you have radicals on both sides demonizing teen sex. It’s crazy!”

“And the sick part is that it’s our generation, which benefitted from the revolution in the 60s, which is creating ‘participation trophies’ and infantilizing teenagers. I just don’t get it.”

“Me, either. What time is your Rap Session?”

“1:00pm. And I’ll tell you the same thing I tell Kara - behave and don’t push the kids too hard. There will be some Juniors here today for the first time. Sadly, only four, as current crop of kids couldn’t recommend more than that. We need to get at the kids sooner, but we can’t have anyone under seventeen without running serious risks with the government. Even seventeen is slightly risky because parents could complain. We’ve been lucky in that regard so far, and the kids are pretty good at identifying which friends’ parents will put up with this.”

“Put up with? Not support?”

“People like Elaine Heath and Mary Sarcu are pretty rare. But they’re both ‘hockey moms’ and that seems to be a strong indicator of being somewhat rational.”

“Somewhat?”

“There are two distinct groups - the coddlers and the challengers. They’re both challengers. Bob’s wife is kind of in-between, but leans towards the challengers. The coddlers are the troublemakers, although they see the challengers as the troublemakers, and sadly, the coddlers are slowly winning. And that’s true everywhere.”

“We’re so fucked,” Stephanie sighed.

“Yeah. Anyway, make yourself at home. Lunch is at noon.”

“Thanks, big brother.”

“You’re welcome.”

We hugged and left my study and went to join Kara in the ‘Indian’ room to hang out until lunch. Stephanie didn’t share anything with Kara, so I didn’t say anything either.

May 12, 2000, Chicago, Illinois

“That was a very strange situation,” Liz said as we drove from the suburbs back to her apartment in the city.

“Because I took you on a date to see my son perform in Harvey?” I grinned.

“No, because your wives were on the date, too!” she replied, laughing softly.

“Everyone wanted to see Matthew in the play, and tonight was your night. And starting next week, you’ll be studying for your finals. This worked out OK all around. And honestly, nobody at Traughber has a clue about my situation. Other than a couple of friends, I suspect everyone believes Eduardo is Matthew’s dad, and that doesn’t bug me if it keeps the same insanity we have to deal with in the city from occurring at his school in the burbs.”

“Matthew did a fantastic job! How long has he been acting?”

“Since first grade. His first role Tom Sawyer back in ‘94. He had his first kiss on stage.”

“And he’s like you?” Liz asked with a silly smile.

I chuckled, “Not even close. But he decided that day that kissing wasn’t TOO bad. I’ve told you about him and Chelsea. They’re going to be spending most of the summer together, partly here and partly in Cincinnati.”

“I do have to say I enjoyed having dinner with everyone.”

“You know you’re welcome at the house anytime. You heard what Kara and Jessica said.”

“I just don’t want to overstep.”

“Spending time with us isn’t overstepping.”

“What about once I start at NIKA?”

“You’ll be on the executive compensation plan, which means Bob can’t reasonably object to us socializing.”

“And ‘adulting’?”

We were interrupted by my cell phone ringing. I handed it to Liz who looked at the display.

“Abbie,” she said.

“Put it on speaker, please,” I asked.

She did.

“Hey, Abbie. What’s up?”

“Are you driving?”

“Yes. Do I need to pull over?”

“Probably,” she said.

“Shit,” I sighed. “OK. Hang on.”

I turned off Route 59 into the parking lot of a strip mall.

“OK. What’s up?”

“Adam Petty was killed in a wreck at New Hampshire earlier today,” she said.

“Well, shit!” I swore. “What happened?”

“They said his throttle appeared to have stuck and he hit the wall head-on.”

“If you see The King,” I said, “Please give him my condolences. How is Jason?”

“He knows Kyle pretty well, so he’s a bit torn up right now.”

“Tell him if he needs anything, even just to talk, he can call.”

“Thanks, Steve. I’ll call you soon.”

“Thanks,” I replied.

We said ‘goodbye’ and I hung up the call.

“I’m not a racing fan,” Liz said.

“He was the grandson of the greatest NASCAR driver of all time, at least in my opinion. I think he was nineteen or twenty.”

“That sucks. Are you OK?”

“Yeah, I didn’t know him, though I did meet him once maybe twelve years ago.”

I pulled back onto Route 59 and drove to I-88 in silence. After about ten minutes, I let Liz know it was OK to restart the conversation.

“So, with regard to Bob and ‘adulting’?” she asked.

“That is none of his business! You know me well enough to know that the one thing has nothing to do with the other in a way that actually matters. It’s the small-minded prudes in the government or worse, public busybodies, who are the problem. And honestly, they can all go fuck themselves. Kara and Jess want you to join them for Girls Night Out, and I’d like you to join the Rap Sessions. I think you’ll make a great mentor and role model for the kids. And I’m sure Patricia would like to have another attorney there for mutual defense against the rest of us!”

“But you said you liked fucking lawyers,” Liz teased, using what was for her a very rare word.

“And I fucking hate lawyers,” I chuckled. “Present company excepted, of course!”

“Of course! I’m just taking Deborah’s role in toto!”

“Not for several years, on the physical part. That ended once she and Krissy decided to pursue artificial insemination.”

“You never did tell me how many were on that list, but I suppose that can wait a month if you prefer.”

“I’ll just tell you - Elyse, obviously, Kimmy, Penny, Deborah, Charlie, Cindi, Tasha, Chris, Jodie, Claire, Kajri, Cèlia, Michelle, and Eve.”

“Wow!” Liz said, shaking her head. “I knew you were generous with your affection, but that gives a whole new meaning to ‘I gave at the office’!”

I laughed, “Nice.”

“And all of those are in the past?”

“Yes, except for you until you find a boyfriend. Everyone else is off limits, including new employees. Well, the one possible exception is if someone I’ve slept with comes to work for me.”

“Those weren’t all while they were working for you, right?”

“About half - Elyse, obviously, Kimmy, Deborah, Cindi, Jodie, Michelle, and Eve. And of those, Elyse, Jodie, and Michelle started before they came to work for me. And Jodie was a very special exception a few years ago.”

“What did you decide about the repeat of the ‘St. Martin Six’?” she asked with a smirk.

“That it wasn’t a good idea, at least on the terms being suggested, not to mention the fact that it was unlikely that Maria Cristina had five friends who would sleep with a married man.”

“But we did,” Liz said.

“Times have changed,” I replied. “Even though Maria Cristina’s friends are in their early twenties, I don’t think their attitudes are anything like yours were at eighteen.”

“But I’m just twenty-five!” she protested.

“Yes, but you were exposed to what amounts to subversive ideology when you were eighteen. If they weren’t, then they’ll be infected with many of the same attitudes we’re seeing in kids who are seventeen or eighteen. I think you’ll be shocked, really. I can’t imagine most of the kids who show up at the Rap Sessions these days going to St. Martin, let alone going there to lose their virginity to a married man!”

“Something I will never, ever regret. Making love that first time was so amazing and it’s only gotten better.”

“You have been, and are, a wonderful lover. You’re a very special person, and you always will be, even when this specific phase of our lives comes to an end.”

We arrived in the city, I parked, and we went into Liz’s apartment where we went straight to bed and ‘adulted’ for several hours before falling asleep in each other’s arms.

May 15, 2000, Chicago, Illinois

“Steve, can you come to my office?” Deborah asked over the phone on Monday morning.

“Sure.”

I hung up and walked to her office and shut the door.

“I received a call from an attorney for Jim Thompson,” she said.

“And?”

“It appears our speculation was right. The contract company dumped him. His attorney is looking to ‘keep this out of the press’ and to ‘not sully your reputation’.”

“How much?” I asked.

“He’s shopping for an offer. He seems to think that the threat of a lawsuit is sufficient.”

“Our liability policy carrier will likely pay him off and he knows it.”

“That is the standard tactic, though with the non-compete, they might actually tell him to pound sand.”

“Advice?”

“Offer him three month’s salary in exchange for a complete release and an NDA. Good today only. And the attorney has to be paid out of that settlement.”

“Tell me why I should do that when I have a signed non-compete that says Jim can’t go work for a competitor? And all we did is make the contract programming company aware of a legally executed and notarized document.”

“Because the odds are 4:1 that our liability carrier settles for about that amount, or possibly a bit more, and our rates go up.”

“And do they lower our rates when we have no claims?” I asked petulantly.

“Of course not! That’s not how THEIR protection racket works!”

“And here we are, caught between two protection rackets, both of whom we have to pay off even though we did nothing wrong. Not to mention the fact that it then encourages our staff to hide the fact that they have the non-competes!”

“The tricky part here is that he didn’t go to work for a competitor.”

“Are you saying we should have waited until he actually started at Chickasaw, or wherever they were going to assign him?”

“That might have been one strategy, but I wouldn’t recommend it, because we could get caught up in an ugly, complex lawsuit involving Jim, the contract firm, and whoever he was going to ultimately work for, whether it was Chickasaw or someone else.”

“Tell me how to stop this in the future.”

“Full, honest truth?”

“Obviously.”

“You can’t. For example, California law does not recognize non-compete agreements which prevent employees from working in their field of expertise.”

“He’s not ‘prevented from working in his field of expertise’!” I protested. “There are about a dozen total firms in the country he can’t work for. There are thousands upon thousands he could work for.”

“I agree, but California law does not. A business can have a non-compete, but not an employee.”

“How do we protect ourselves?”

“Violent revolution is out?”

“Yes,” I chuckled.

“In the end, you probably can’t unless you use patent or copyright law, and you know the minefield that software copyrights are becoming.”

“What if we rescind the non-compete?”

“I’m not sure the contract firm would rehire him because I don’t know anything about their relationship with their customer. Not to mention he basically committed fraud by omission, but they could lay it all on us if he tried to sue them.”

“Fuck,” I spat. “OK. Take it to Stephanie. I’ll support whatever she decides.”

“You know what I’m going to advise her, right?”

“Obviously. You’re just doing your job, Counselor. Let me know what comes of this.”

“I will. I’ll loop in Bob, too.”

“OK. What about modifying the non-compete to say that...”

Deborah held up her hand to stop me, “Forget it. Anything we write could be defeated, and unless you’re going to cancel the liability coverage, which I would not advise, they’ll pay off anything small. And these are small.”

“Not even a notice that upon resignation, we’ll send the non-compete to their new employer?”

“We only know where Jim was going because he told Tasha. If he’d kept his mouth shut, we probably wouldn’t have found out until much later.”

“Given we’re on this topic, what about the NDAs?”

“Those are enforceable, but proving it might be tough. And you can guess the scenario.”

“Somebody gets fired from their new firm when we press the NDA issue and turns around and sues us.”

“Yes.”

“How the fuck did we get to a place where contracts are completely unenforceable despite the fact that the Constitution specifically prohibits the impairment of contracts?”

“We spent an entire week on that topic at the start of Contracts I. Basically, it’s ignored and the government can, and will, interfere with contracts in whatever way they wish, and the courts will let them. Fundamentally, the Supreme Court wrote an exception that you could drive a truck through by saying States could ‘impair contracts’ in the pursuit of resolution of broad and general social or economic problems. I can’t think of ANYTHING that would limit. And that is another thing that will only change with violent revolution, which you’ve ruled out.”

“Well, Consigliere of mine, since we can’t ‘go to the mattresses’, get me out of this as best you can, and figure out a way to protect us in the future.”

“Self-insure, which takes the pressure off, but puts you at much greater risk. I’m not fond of that idea, but maybe there is a way to write a policy where we self-insure lower amounts. The problem there is that we can’t control a court’s ruling on damages, and the liability carrier will want to settle or defend those suits which appear small to keep them from getting big.”

“Discuss that with my sister, too. She’d have to take that to the Board. I continue to believe people need to be held accountable for their commitments and that’s not going to change no matter how much the government says otherwise.”

“Before you go, were you ever in that city in the Netherlands that had the fireworks accident over the weekend that killed two dozen people and destroyed a neighborhood?”

“No. Enschede is in the far eastern part of the country, and I was never further east than Utrecht. One day, when I go back, I’ll try to get to Arnhem, the ‘Bridge too Far’ of Operation Market-Garden, but even that is west of Enschede.”

“OK. I’ll talk with Stephanie and Bob and make this go away. And we’ll talk about self-insurance.”

“Thanks.”

I left her office and returned to mine, wondering how bad things would have to get before revolution became the least bad option. We sure weren’t there yet, but the trajectory was frightening. And it wasn’t me who was going to start it, but I’d sure as hell get caught up in it, despite my pacifism. Jefferson was right about the tree of liberty, something I had long feared. Everything in society was arrayed against freedom and personal responsibility, and it was driving the country straight to hell.