Chapter 24

Liz and I graduate, and Uncle Bob almost has a stroke.

Classes were over, I aced my three exams, and the dissertation I wrote for my Aerospace Engineering Degree leaked out and was being discussed in several communities highly dependent on industries dedicated to space exploration. My opinion on what Earth must focus on for the next hundred years had evolved into a major controversy between scientists who agreed with what I wrote and those who vehemently disagreed with me. The title of my paper was ‘The Future of Crewed and Unmanned Planetary Exploration,’ and Stanford University was publishing it.

My GPA was over 4.0; I graduated summa cum laude, and I would be number one in my class ranking if all the students were men.

Okay, so I was fifth in the class, ranking behind four women, two Chinese girls who were identical twins, an Indian girl, and a California girl who went surfing every weekend. I am not a woman-hater; I hate finishing second or fifth.

Momma and Dad flew out to see Liz receive her degree in Business Administration with a minor in Forensic Accounting. She was in tears because they came early for her, not me, because my ceremony was two days later. The three Stevens watching were so proud of Liz when she was honored on stage for having the third-highest class ranking in the accounting department. Several female classmates who came to hug her also admired Liz’s engagement ring, and I believe they envied her for having a cute fiancé.

When the Chinese twins came over, Li mei and Li ming, they were all over me, rubbing against me and touching my arms and shoulders. I think they wanted to take me back to China with them and turn me into their love slave. Something about the way Liz was staring at them felt strange to me; it wasn’t hatred, more like desire, but I shook it off when they walked away.

We went out to dinner with my parents to celebrate our successes in school and the life ahead that Liz and I eagerly awaited. Later at home, Dad put a DVD in our player, and we watched Mom’s first tour of her new house, courtesy of Larry and June Li.

We drove my parents to the airport the next morning for their return flight home before returning to my house to finalize the end of the Stanford chapter in our lives.

A moving truck and three men met us to pack up and load my furniture, household items, and most of my clothes. They also packed most of Liz’s clothing, shoes, and makeup. After loading everything in their truck, they left immediately and would meet me at my Dad’s old house in three days.

Next, my real estate agent came by, and I signed everything needed to put the house on the market, sell it, deposit the proceeds in my bank account and then convey the title to the new owner. The only unknown was the price that it would eventually bring.

Lastly, a used-car dealer came by with a check for my two vehicles and drove them away. I was going to miss the Viper.

Rita, my house sitter for the last four years, drove Liz and me to an Enterprise franchise, and I rented Liz a car for four days. After a tearful goodbye to Rita, Liz dropped me at the airport later that evening for a flight back home. Liz would follow me three days later because she had to put her condo on the market. The separation would give me the time to unpack all of our clothes and mix my furniture with the furniture Mom and Dad left behind when they moved to my mother’s new mansion in March. After we moved in, Liz would be able to shop for what was missing and change anything her little heart desired.

Three days later, I gleefully picked her up at the airport in my new bright red Dodge Charger, and we took a detour on the way home to Kevin Whitaker Cadillac, where Liz could decide what color her fully loaded Escalade would be. She wasn’t starting her new job with an accounting firm in Spartanburg until Labor Day, but she was excited about everything falling into place.

We settled in like a married couple, and while Liz had the summer off and could lounge around the pool, I had to begin working immediately. The first order of business was to hire a personal assistant (PA) and organize my office. So I walked into the management suite for the company at precisely 8 AM to present my humble carcass to my Uncle Bob on my first day of employment.

Ms. Carla Ramirez, the executive receptionist, telephone operator, and office manager for the last twenty-four years, was sitting directly in front of me and greeted me with a smile and sarcasm, “Well, well, looky, who’s here? It’s the little boy who played so hard at the company picnic years ago that he pissed himself on his mother’s lap.”

“And good morning to you, Carla. I brought you the sex toys Dad asked me to get for you.”

“Martin Stevens, I never.”

To my left was the desk of Marsha Tarte, my Dad’s secretary for the last eighteen years guarding the closed door to my Dad’s office. To my right was Uncle Bob’s open office door blocked by the desk of Lorraine Cotton, Uncle Bob’s secretary for the previous twenty years.

I greeted them with great humility in my voice, “Greetings, ladies. Marty Stevens has arrived to take his rightful place as the head engine designer. I have an 8 AM appointment with Mr. Robert Stevens about a job he promised me when I was twelve.”

I heard a booming voice echoing through the doorway next to Mrs. Cotton, “Marty, quit harassing those hard-working women out there and get your ass in my office, boy.”

With a smile on my face, a head filled with dreams, and rocket fuel in my veins, I entered his office to begin employment with Stevens Aerospace and Defense. We talked for a few minutes before he walked me to my office on the second floor of a two-story building, between the Fabrication and Machine Shop building to my right and the Assembly building on the left side, all three joined by an enclosed catwalk.

For security reasons, the only access to these catwalks, and ultimately my office, is a security door located in each of the neighboring buildings that can only be opened by top-level employees’ ID cards and a retinal scan.

I had two rooms that made up my office; the first room was two thousand square feet and would eventually contain a desk for my secretary and as many filing cabinets as we could squeeze in. Behind the door to the left of my secretary’s desk was my office, all of six hundred square feet. My desk would be on one side of the room, with a drafting table next to it, and the entire back wall would be covered with whiteboards. My PA’s desk would be on the other side of the room.

“This is just what I was looking for, Uncle Bob. What about the room for my server?”

“Follow me. It’s right below your offices, and to enter, we have to go back to where we came in, exit the building, and enter through a large double doorway, all built according to the specs you gave me. Marty, we ran all the electric wiring per your instructions, and the AC system installed exceeds the specs you gave me. The air intake and vent pipes that go up to the roof are inside the walls between the two offices. I was leery about all your requests because they seemed like overkill, but Alex convinced me to do them. When I asked if he was sure, he said, ‘The great Marty will reveal all.’ Why did you need this much security?”