Chapter 28: That’s Fair

November 23, 1981, Chicago, Illinois

On Monday, while I was riding the L to work, I thought about how I should approach Lily but couldn’t work out what I could do or say, other than ask her what was wrong and how she thought we could fix it. Once she told me, well, if she told me, then we could work on it. If she didn’t, then there wasn’t much I could do. In my mind, everything would come to a head on Wednesday. If she didn’t come up for dinner, I’d assume we were finished, with no real prospect of fixing things. If she did, we could talk, and hopefully find a way forward, which was something I wanted.

I’d confirmed with Jeri that I’d join them for Thanksgiving, but now I was having second thoughts. I wasn’t sure what was going on, and despite her insistence that she was just looking for a friend, I was wary. Partly it was not wanting to get sucked into the social circles in which Lisa traveled, but mostly it was because Jeri was only fifteen. Granted, four years would not be a big deal if we were twenty-four and twenty, but nineteen and fifteen was very different.

I had no real experience with female friends except for Bev, and that relationship was cautionary, because it had led to us having sex. Given that was my sole experience of having a female friend before Anala, it made me very cautious. I might be misreading the situation, and it might be what Jeri said was completely true, but I knew I needed to be very careful. That was especially true if I was single, as it appeared I might be.

And then there was Rachel. I didn’t really understand her, but I was glad she’d put her cards on the table. That at least let me know the score, as it were, unlike the situation with Lily where I was completely in the dark. Rachel was, in nearly every way, exactly the kind of girl I was interested in — smart, fun to be with, and sexy. But that could not overcome her religious belief and practice, something on which I had limited ability to compromise and stay true to myself.

And all of that led to the question of what I’d do if Lily and I had actually broken up and I couldn’t resolve the problem, whatever it was. Dating Rachel was out, because that would just be leading her on about a relationship which I didn’t believe was possible. Teresa wasn’t seeing anyone steady, so I was sure she’d be interested in hanging out, though I honestly very much liked having a steady girlfriend. She hadn’t been interested in being steady, but we’d gone out consistently, and fooled around, so it was almost a distinction without a difference.

Of course, there were plenty of opportunities at work, so long as I was careful, but I’d vowed to stay away from that kind of situation. It didn’t, in my mind, preclude dating someone from Spurgeon, so long as I followed the rules from Personnel. It DID, on the other hand, preclude using Spurgeon as some sort of harem or brothel, the way the Suits did. Of course, I could always call Nickie, but that still seemed like a bad idea. And really, until I spoke with Lily, I couldn’t do anything.

The morning was busy, especially given our limited manpower, and at lunchtime, I decided to eat in the break room, rather than meet Rachel. I thought it best if I only ate with her occasionally, especially given what she’d said to me about being in love with me, and because I felt meeting her every day would only encourage her. I finished my lunch, read the Wall Street Journal which I’d brought with me, and then went back to the mailroom.

“Hi, Jonathan,” Kristy called out.

“Hi. Anything I need to handle immediately?”

“No. There’s a problem with a fax machine, but Nick checked it and the machine seems to be OK, so the phone guys are checking the line.”

The afternoon was typically busy, but with Kristy answering the phones, Nick and I were able to get everything done. I left the office just after 5:00pm, took the freight elevator down to the lobby and headed for the L.

“Jonathan?” I heard Rachel call out from behind me.

I stopped, turned, and walked back to her.

“Hi,” I said.

“Walk me to the L?”

“Sure,” I replied and we began walking.

“What happened at lunch?” she asked.

“I ate in the break room.”

“Oh,” she replied, sounding sad. “I missed you.”

“You know it’s really crazy upstairs right now because we’re shorthanded.”

“I thought you had some help?”

“We do, but only in the afternoons. That means more work than we can get done in the morning, which leads to more work in the afternoon.”

“If you don’t have plans for Thanksgiving, you could come to our house.”

“Thanks,” I replied, “but I have plans.”

We walked quietly the rest of the way to the L, and boarded the same train heading south. Rachel and I parted when she got off at a stop in the Loop, and I rode the rest of the way to University Village. I thought about knocking on the door of the house, but decided that I’d simply wait it out and see what happened on Wednesday. If Lily didn’t talk to me then, I’d assume it was over, and I’d call Jeri and confirm I’d join her family for Thanksgiving.

November 26, 1981, Chicago, Illinois

Early on Thursday afternoon, I put on my one and only suit, as Jeri had said that her family ‘dressed for dinner’, a concept that was totally foreign to me. My mom and I, along with Bev’s family, were very casual, and except for graduation, I hadn’t worn a tie at any point I could remember before starting work at Spurgeon. Wearing a tie to dinner in my own house made zero sense to me, but as a guest, I’d follow the Lundgren’s rules.

The previous evening, when I’d arrived home, the Andros’ car had been gone, indicating that Lily’s parents had gone out on their date. I’d knocked on the back door of the house, but there wasn’t an answer, so to be sure, I walked around to the front door and rang the bell. Once again, there was no answer, and I saw no lights coming from inside the house. To me, that had made it abundantly clear that Lily and I were through, so when I’d gone up to my apartment over the garage, I’d called Jeri to confirm that I’d join her family for Thanksgiving.

One surprising thing that had happened during that call was that Jeri said she would send a car for me. I’d used taxis a couple of times for my work at Spurgeon, but I’d never been in a chauffeured car. She wasn’t sending a limo, just a Lincoln Town Car, but even that was something I’d never experienced. If I was as successful as I hoped I’d be, there would be plenty more rides in Town Cars or limos in my future, and a nice car of some kind, though I doubted I’d own a Mercedes or BMW in the next few years. Not to mention my priority was to buy my mom a car, something I felt I’d be able to do by Thanksgiving of ‘82, assuming I received the promotion I was expecting.

I watched out the window and the car arrived precisely at 2:00pm. I left the apartment, catching a glimpse of Mrs. Andros through the kitchen window, but she was facing inward, so she didn’t see me. The driver of the Town Car opened the door to the back seat for me, I got in, he shut the door, and then got in. Wordlessly he backed out of the driveway and then headed for the Lundgren’s home in Kenwood, not too far north of the University of Chicago.

The ride was relatively short, and about fifteen minutes later, I rang the doorbell of a large home — something that would have be classified as a ‘mansion’ back home, if there was anything even close to its size, and a man in a suit answered.

“Mr. Kane?” he said.

I smiled, “Jonathan, yes.”

“You’re expected. Come in, take off your overcoat, and then I’ll announce you.”

I took off my overcoat, which I’d recently bought in preparation for Winter, and he took it from me, and hung it in a closet, then led me into the house.

“Mr. Kane,” he said from the door to a large room with couches, chairs, and a grand piano.

“Hi, Jonathan!” Jeri said, jumping up from a couch. “Come in. Mom and Dad are in the library.”

“Library?”

“A room with books!”

“Sorry, I never heard that word used except for a Public Library.”

“Dad has a large collection of old books, including lots of signed originals.”

“And the artwork in this room?” I asked. “Originals?”

“Yes. Mom inherited a significant collection of art from her great grandparents.”

“I think our house in Ohio was only about twice the size of this room,” I said.

“This is a fairly normal size house for Kenwood or Hyde Park.”

“May I ask how many bedrooms?”

“Five upstairs, plus one off the kitchen for the husband and wife butler/maid team.”

“They have to work holidays?” I asked.

“Yes, but they have tomorrow off in exchange, just like they have Boxing Day, you know, the day after Christmas, off. Come sit down, please.”

I walked over and sat down on the couch next to her, but made sure not to sit too close. The last thing I wanted was trouble from her parents, given she was only fifteen.

“What do your parents do?” I asked. “I mean besides the Foundation you told me about.”

“That’s a full-time job for my mom, as President, and my dad is very involved as well. Mom has a degree in business from Wellesley; Dad has a law degree from Yale, but he doesn’t practice, except for handling legal matters for the Foundation.”

“I’m guessing they live off inherited money?”

“A trust set up by my mom’s parents when they retired. They live in Côte d’Azur which you probably know as the French Riviera. They have a place in Saint-Jeannet in the Alpes-Maritimes department of France. It’s not far from Nice and Monte Carlo, if you know where those are.”

“Vaguely. Somewhere in the south of France on the Mediterranean Sea?”

“Yes, and close to Italy. I’ve visited them a few times, and been to Monte Carlo a few times, as I said.”

“You travel a lot but you can’t make friends?”

“I’m pretty shy and keep to myself. And my mom is totally controlling.”

Which was what Aunt Wendy had said, but I totally didn’t see it. Jeri was just as outgoing as any fifteen-year-old I knew, though I didn’t interact with Freshmen very much when I was a Senior.

“But she’s OK with me?” I asked.

“She’s friends with Lisa’s parents, and Lisa’s dad said you were a really nice guy. I guess he also told her you had a steady girlfriend, so she believed me when I said we were just friends.”

Had. As in past tense. That said, Jeri was way too young to even consider, though she was cute. And even if I overlooked the four-year age gap, the LAST thing I wanted to do was be romantically involved with any of Lisa’s friends. That was a recipe for disaster. But, I could always use a new friend, and while Jeri might only be fifteen, in the not too distant future she’d have her own career, and as my uncle had said, one major key to success was having a good network of people from whom you could draw ideas, inspiration, and help.

All of that said, guys like Stuart and Tom were more my speed — training to be firemen and basically middle class. That thought triggered something I hadn’t considered — my circumstances were such that I had moved from ‘working poor’ as I’d heard it called to the lowest part of the middle class, and very soon, if things went according to plan, I’d be solidly middle class. That was amazing to me considering it had only been six months since I’d left home. But, it came down to exactly what my uncle said — having a contact in the right place at the right time.

“I think Lily and I are finished,” I replied. “And I still have no idea what I did wrong.”

“Don’t ask me! I’ve never had a boyfriend, so I have no clue!”

“Do you go to school dances?”

“No. I’d hide in a corner!”

“But you’ve been very outgoing with me.”

Jeri shrugged, “You were nice to me and it was a private situation. A dance in a gym would terrify me. I don’t like going to the galas my mom throws, and I usually just sit at the table or find a place to hide out with some other girls who don’t like the attention they get from some of the men.”

“You get hit on by older guys?”

She glanced around, “You don’t know about Noel Spurgeon?”

“I know there are lots of guys at Spurgeon who cheat with their secretaries, but that’s about it.”

“He likes fifteen-year-old and sixteen-year-old girls. A lot, if you get my drift.”

Which fit the comment that Kristy had made to me about Spurgeon Capital — that there were guys interested in teenage girls. And it appeared that included the Big Boss himself.

“I get it,” I replied. “You told me he hit on them, but...”

“He offers them gifts and stuff,” Jeri said. “And quite a few of them accept. Lisa wants him.”

“Lisa is TWELVE!” I protested.

“Too young for him, but...”

“Are you seriously suggesting there are guys at Spurgeon who would have sex with a twelve-year-old?” I asked, shocked.

“I don’t know, but there is at least one guy who comes to the Foundation Galas who would.”

“Someone should call the police!”

Jeri smiled ruefully, “There are two sets of rules, Jonathan — one for regular people and one for the extremely wealthy. This guy is worth close to a billion dollars, so he gets to make his own rules.”

“That’s not how it’s supposed to work, at least according to my Civics teacher back home.”

“The age of consent in Illinois is seventeen, but that doesn’t stop the older guys from hitting on girls who are fifteen and sixteen.”

“What about the girl’s parents?”

Jeri laughed and shook her head, “With enough money and power, you can do pretty much anything.”

“That’s wrong on so many levels, I don’t even know where to begin!”

“By not letting it corrupt you.”

“That’s exactly what my friend’s dad back home said — not to let the money go to my head. Well, assuming I was successful. I can’t see behaving the way people at Spurgeon do just because I have a little money.”

“What about a LOT of money? Some of the top traders take home over a million dollars a year.”

“That’s just totally crazy. I mean, I wouldn’t pass a law to stop it, but that doesn’t make it sane.”

“Why not? They pay some athletes that much, or more, per year. Nolan Ryan was paid a million dollars last year, and Dave Winfield is being paid more than that this year. And if you account for inflation, think about what it meant for Babe Ruth to make $70,000 a year in the twenties when a typical person might have earned $1500 to $2000 a year. That’s just for playing baseball. The stock, bond, and commodities markets are much more important to the economy.”

“True, but to me, that’s just too much money.”

Jeri smiled, “We’ll see if you feel the same way when you’re a trader or money manager, which is what you said you wanted to be.”

Which was true, but the last thing I was going to do was fall into the cesspool just because I made a lot of money. Just then, Jeri’s parents came into the room an introduced themselves. After a handshake with her dad, the four of us went to the large, well-appointed dining room for a huge Thanksgiving feast.

November 27, 1981, Chicago, Illinois

“I’m glad you were available today,” I said to Anala when we met for Cokes late on Friday afternoon.

“There was no school today, and my family doesn’t celebrate Thanksgiving. I was surprised you were available.”

“The Friday after Thanksgiving is only a half-day for the traders, so once they packed up at noon, there wasn’t much left to do.”

“Tell me about what happened with Lily.”

“I wish I knew,” I replied, shaking my head. “I’m at a loss.”

“Just take me through everything that happened.”

I did my best to describe everything that had happened in a neutral way, not trying to place blame, but just telling Anala the events that had led to Lily basically shunning me.

“May I be flip?” Anala asked.

“I suppose,” I replied.

“She’s a teenage girl and nobody, but nobody, can explain how they think!”

“You were a teenage girl!” I protested. “And fairly recently!”

“I was hardly a typical teenage girl,” Anala replied. “And if I was, it was a typical Hindu teenage girl, not an American one.”

“Because your beliefs are so different?”

“Mostly, yes. And the environment in which I was raised was different, even though most of it was living in the US.”

“I guess that makes sense. So what’s the answer that’s not ‘flip’?”

“I think the bottom line is she expected you to say ‘I love you’ by now. And you, in effect, told her that wasn’t happening anytime soon.”

“Well, to be honest, if that was her condition, she should have waited until I said it to agree to go steady.”

“You mean go to bed, right? Because you can be steady without going to bed together.”