Chapter 63: Spontaneity

January 7, 2002, Chicago, Illinois

🎤 Jesse

As I went into the coach house, I saw a car which matched what Dad had suggested - a late-model Ford with two guys and with the engine running, just down the street from the house.

“Did the FBI come to the door?” I asked Mom Two when I walked into the kitchen.

“Yes, right after I arrived home. They haven’t found her, at least as of about thirty minutes ago. Is that shitbox Ford still out there?”

“Yep, with two sorry-looking individuals in the front seats. The most boring stakeout in the history of the world. But I wonder what happened.”

“Me too,” Mom One said. “If she got on a bus this morning, they should have found her either when they stopped the busses or at the terminal here in Chicago.”

“Unless she got off somewhere else,” Mom Two offered, “or decided not to come to Chicago because this is where they would look for her. Jesse, do you know where else she might go?”

“No clue,” I replied. “I have no idea who her friends are in Iowa, or even her other relatives, except for her grandma in Naperville. I hope Francesca is OK, wherever she is. Did Dad call you?”

“He called Mom One and she called me. You did the right thing. This is absolutely something for your dad to have handled. And dinner is almost ready.”

“Should we take plates out to the FBI guys so they don’t have to starve?” I asked with a smirk.

“Nah, let ‘em starve,” Mom One said. “Consider it payback for all the grief they’ve given your dad over the years!”

“I could take my plate out on the porch to eat, but then I’d have a frozen dinner!”

“That’s my son,” Mom One laughed. “Evil to the core, just like his dad!”

“Thank you!” I grinned.

[Boca Raton, Florida] 🎤 Steve

“Did you hear anything about Francesca?” Eve asked as we relaxed by the pool late on Monday evening.”

“No,” I replied. “Jesse texted me right before he went to bed to say that they hadn’t heard anything.”

My phone vibrated just then, and I slipped it from the pocket of my shorts.

“Speak of the devil,” I replied. “It’s Melanie.”

I opened the phone and greeted her.

“You just keep finding new and interesting ways to attract attention from the FBI!”

“I didn’t DO anything,” I protested.

“Which doesn’t mean they don’t THINK you did.”

“Fuck them, Mel! I mean, seriously, they can’t pin ANYTHING about this on me, even in their wildest fantasies! No phone calls, no letters, no communication. I’m assuming Grace told you what Jesse said to them.”

“Yes, of course. I heard from one of my contacts at the Bureau that Francesca left the school with a classmate who is still missing. They were cagey about details, but I asked a friend in the CPD to look up the BOLO. A female classmate, age sixteen, didn’t show up in her homeroom and her brand-new cherry-red Camaro is missing.”

“I bet it’s the same girl who let Francesca call Jesse and who sent the postcard for her.”

“You bet correctly. They’re still watching your house, as pretty much everyone expects the girls to turn up there at some point.”

“How difficult is it to find two sixteen-year-old girls in a new red Camaro?” I asked.

Melanie laughed, “You’d think, right? But so far no cruiser has spotted the car, nor has anyone called in a tip.”

“If two sixteen-year-old girls can evade the local police, State Patrol, and the FBI, it’s no wonder so many crimes go unsolved!”

“According to Pete, in a case like this, they typically find the runaway within twenty-four hours. The girls probably went to a friend’s or relative’s house and if the car is parked where it can’t be seen from the road, they won’t be found until the police get around to checking with that friend or relative.”

“And it’s going to make Carol even crazier. I guarantee you she blames Jesse and me for this, even though we had nothing to do with it.”

“And that’s what matters to the FBI. Carol can’t cause you any trouble if you haven’t done anything wrong. And Francesca and Jesse are the same age, right?”

“Francesca is about three months older.”

“Then Carol can’t really cause Jesse any trouble. Other than being concerned for Francesca’s welfare, there’s nothing to worry about.”

“Famous last words!” I replied.

“OK,” Melanie laughed. “This is you we’re talking about, but seriously, Steve, it’s fine. Jesse knows to call Grace or me if Francesca calls or shows up, and we’ll take care of it.”

“Thanks, Mel. I appreciate it as always.”

“You’re welcome! See you next weekend!”

We said ‘goodbye’ and I closed my phone and put it back in the pocket of my shorts.

“Haven’t found them yet?” Eve asked.

“No. Melanie suspects they’re holed up with a friend or relative. If they aren’t out on the roads, they can’t be spotted. This may just be Francesca rebelling, or she’s being a bit smarter and is lying low for a day or two before they drive to Chicago or she calls Jesse.”

“He doesn’t have his license yet, does he?”

“Next month,” I replied. “He’s ready to take his driving test, though.”

“Cool. Given we’re alone, may I make an observation?”

“Always,” I replied. “About what?”

“You remember our conversation about being spontaneous, right?”

“Of course.”

“I think you’re taking propranolol to have an excuse not to. You prefer your ordered life far too much, and you’re willing to drug yourself to keep it that way.”

“Assuming that’s correct, and I’m not saying it is, so what? And that phone call shows you just how ‘ordered’ my life is! As in, it’s not!”

“That’s nothing, and you know it. Girls and moms get into it all the time! I believe you’ve mentioned a certain young woman in your life who has more freedom and more privileges than any thirteen-year-old on the planet tangling with her mom!”

“Birgit is NOT a normal kid!” I chuckled.

“None of your kids are!” Eve declared. “But seriously, every teen girl has run-ins with her mom, and usually her dad, so what’s going on with Francesca is normal. At some point, you’ll have a serious run-in with Her Majesty, but it won’t last long because of your relationship.”

Oh, we would, and Eve had no idea what the source of that dust-up would be.

“Probably,” I allowed. “But my life isn’t quite so ordered as you think.”

“Before January 1st? Maybe not. But now? You basically declared a moratorium on spontaneity with your New Year’s resolution. I think that was a mistake. It was never, at least in my mind, about being out of control, but of every once in a while doing something on a lark just because you wanted to. I’m not making Elyse’s argument, because I disagree with her. But I also disagree with Liz. There is a balance in the Force, but it’s not found at either extreme - out of control or completely sedate. You have a word for it.”

I nodded, “«Lagom», meaning ‘just right’ or ‘balanced’.”

“Steve with NO spontaneity isn’t balanced. We agreed on that before, and you’ve reneged on that agreement.”

“Things do change,” I replied. “and at some point in our lives, we do need to be more thoughtful and conservative.”

“You’re going to be thirty-nine in a few months, not eighty-nine! Your dad is eighty-five and is about as conservative as anyone I know, and that’s a good model to emulate, but I think you dialed it back too far, too fast. Current Steve would not have been able to outfight and outthink Connie and Anthony. Or Dante. Or Littleton. He’s become TOO risk-averse. Just when you got Jessica out of that mode, you’re going into it.”

“It’s nowhere near that bad,” I replied.

“Except that it feeds on itself, Steve. You know that. Sometimes risk aversion is called for, but you can take it too far. Think back to NIKA’s finances in the beginning. I wasn’t at NIKA then, but Cindi and Elyse have discussed your approach. You modified it, based on solid advice from your trusted confidants.”

“With an ‘e’ or without?” I grinned,

Eve laughed, “The masculine plural includes both males and females, just like Spanish! I know it’s mostly females, but your dad, Karl, and your father-in-law all gave you good advice according to Cindi. I’m not telling you to go crazy and use the most aggressive plan, just not use the most conservative one.”

“A reasonable point,” I replied. “I’ll take it under advisement.”

“Be you, Steve. You insist people are true to themselves. You need to be true to yourself, too.”

“How are things with Mike?” I asked.

Eve laughed softly, “Nice way to change the subject. Things are fine. We’ll probably have a kid sometime next year.”

“Just the one?” I asked.

“I think so. He really wants a boy, so if we have a girl, we might try a second time. I’m only twenty-nine, so it’s not like the clock is ticking in a major way.”

“Can anyone join this party?” Liz asked walking out onto the deck.

“Of course,” I replied. “Pull up a chaise and you and Eve can debate what «lagom» means!”

Liz laughed softly as she sat down in a chaise and stretched out.

“I wondered who it was who was going to take the middle ground between me and Elyse.”

“Eve, Cindi, or Charlie,” I replied. “Either Eve was elected, or simply had the first opportunity, though I suspect Samantha might have had some input.”

“He’s uncanny, isn’t he?” Eve asked.

“He knows all of us very well,” Liz said. “Intellectually and philosophically.”

“Biblically, too!” Eve declared, causing Liz and me to laugh.

“Just don’t let Bob hear you say that,” I replied. “He’s finally with the program. Well, at least as much as anyone in his role can ever be.”

“Let me guess,” Liz offered, “Eve’s approach was spontaneity, right?”

“I’m not the only one who knows others intellectually and philosophically,” I observed.

“But not biblically!” Liz declared. “Neither Eve nor I are into THAT!”

“Bummer for Julius and Mike,” I chuckled.

“You don’t believe THAT for one second!” Liz protested.

“No, I don’t,” I admitted. “They are both very lucky men.”

“You know I don’t have a problem with spontaneity,” Liz said. “Only with poor decision making. And THAT is where the propranolol enters the picture.”

“We’re going to have to agree to disagree about the specific thing which led you to insist,” I replied. “It was the right thing to do, even if you disagree.”

“Actually, I won’t agree to disagree with you on that topic, Steve. You know better. And you know why.”

“Fishing from the company pier?” Eve asked quietly.

“Yes,” I admitted. “And I understand Liz’s concern, but the circumstances warranted the action taken. I can’t go into detail with either of you, because I can’t reveal the specific confidence, but suffice it to say that in the grand scheme of things, it was the only way to achieve the desired outcome. Sex was a means to an end, not an end in and of itself.”

“It isn’t ever that for you,” Eve observed. “It’s always a means to an end, even if the end isn’t clear when you bond with the girl in that way.”

“It’s the risk profile that’s the problem,” Liz countered. “If this were revealed, it might well force Steve out of the company, and that hurts over two hundred people. That’s where his calculation of the risks versus rewards was off. He assumed it would never, ever, come out, but that is not a safe assumption. One little slip-up in that regard could wreck NIKA.”

“I’d counter that propranolol wouldn’t have made a difference.”

“Not by itself, but that, combined with your medically advised diet might have. You weren’t thinking clearly, and I believe that’s why. Remember, I’m not arguing that the result for her wasn’t good, and maybe it was even necessary, but you took a risk you weren’t entitled to take, and you should have known better. In fact, I know you know better. You don’t like the rules, but you know them, and you know why they’re in place.”

“Aisyah,” Eve said, declaratively, not as a question.

“See what I mean?” Liz asked.

“Good job, Consigliere! You just confirmed a speculation AND did exactly what you were afraid I or someone else was going to do.”

“Shit!” Liz exclaimed. “I’m sorry.”

“You both know I’d never say a word,” Eve stated firmly. “But I can do higher math. I’m guessing Penny’s banishment from your office is in some way linked to this, Steve.”

“No comment,” I said flatly.

“None needed nor expected,” Eve replied. “I’d bet Charlie suspects.”

“Again, no comment,” I said. “And please do not ask her.”

“I wouldn’t, obviously,” Eve avowed, “but you’re right to say it explicitly.”

“I’m not trying to turn you into a boring person,” Liz said. “But I am looking out for NIKA’s best interest, which is the primary mission you assigned me when I started. You specifically asked me to ensure Bob didn’t wreck your company. That also means making sure YOU don’t wreck your company. But it doesn’t mean not having fun.”

“It’s a bit more complicated than that,” I replied. “I understand the points you’re both making, and as I said to Eve, I’ll take it under advisement. Liz, were the papers filed in response to Janice Parker’s suit?”

“Yes. Jamie filed them for me today. No changes from what you reviewed on Friday. You won’t get your injunction.”

“Of course not, but as I said, I’m sending a message. Basically, her suit is a ‘nuisance suit’ just like the ones from Knowles and Jackson.”

“Can I get any of you anything?” Kenton asked, coming out to the patio.

“No, thanks,” I replied. “I’m going to turn in because I’ll be up early to run.”

“Ladies?” Kenton asked.

“No, thanks,” they both replied.

He left, I said ‘good night’ and headed up to my room. The bed was turned down, and there was a note saying that if I wanted lemon tea, to please dial #20. I did, so I dialed and Shannon answered. She promised to bring my tea in five minutes, so I simply relaxed on the loveseat until she arrived with the tray with a pot of lemon tea.

“Anything else I can get you?” she asked.

If I was going to be spontaneous, doing so with a red-haired, green-eyed ‘Steve type’ was certainly the way to go. And it certainly would be an old-fashioned dalliance.

“If the bed-warming offer is still available, I’m interested, though I do need to see your test results. Checking is my price for freedom.”

Shannon nodded and left. She returned three minutes later, closed the door behind her, and locked it. She walked over to me and handed me a sheet with test results which showed her to be clear, and then I showed her my card.

“Not the most romantic way to start things,” I observed.

Shannon laughed softly, “Romance? This is about pure, unadulterated pleasure! No wining, no dining, just fucking each other senseless for the next eight or nine hours!”

“I do have meetings to attend tomorrow,” I chuckled.

“There’s always tomorrow night!” she exclaimed, starting to disrobe.

I watched as she kicked off her soft shoes, then quickly shed her white blouse and black slacks, revealing matching lace bra and panties. Those joined the other items in a pile on the floor. I admired her slim, athletic body, small breasts capped with tiny pink nipples, and, much to my delight, a full bush of red pubic hair. Then, to make things even better she sported tan lines, such that her breasts and groin were extremely pale compared to the rest of her body. I’d hit the jackpot, as it were. I smiled in appreciation, then quickly pulled off my t-shirt, shorts, and briefs.

“You’re in really good shape,” Shannon said, looking me up and down.

“For an ‘old guy’?” I asked with a smirk and an arched eyebrow.

“That’s not what I meant!” she replied with a soft laugh. “But, I’ve never been with a guy more than a couple years older.”

“How old are you?”

“Nineteen. You?”

“Twice that,” I replied. “Still interested?”

“I’m no prick tease!” Shannon declared. “I suspect you’re awesome in bed, and I intend to find out!”

I held out my arms and she came to me and we were off to the races. Our first coupling was one of the more energetic fucks I’d had, and we transitioned right into sixty-nine, and then finished with a long, slow fuck.

“Is this your full-time job?” I asked as we got into the shower.

“Fucking?” Shannon giggled.

“I meant your domestic job here!” I chuckled.

“I’m studying to be a paralegal at the local community college. The night job here pretty much pays for that, and I obviously have a room here, which means I can save a good chunk of my salary. You run your own computer software company, right?”

“Yes.”

“How do you stay in shape?”

“I’m a karate instructor and I run four or five days a week.”

“You’re married, right?”

“Yes, but it’s a non-traditional marriage. This wasn’t cheating.”

“Interesting. And your wife has the same freedom?”

“The arrangement is reciprocal,” I replied.

I was being a bit cagey, but this was very likely a one-time dalliance, so I didn’t feel the need to explain.

“OK if I warm your bed tomorrow night?”

“Absolutely! You’re welcome to stay until morning if that doesn’t cause trouble.”

“I do need to be available if anyone calls, so it’s probably better if I go back to my room. I forwarded the phone to my cell while I was with you. We were lucky nobody called.”

“Then I’ll see you tomorrow night!”

January 8, 2002, Chicago, Illinois