Chapter 36: Friendships

December 17, 1982, Chicago, Illinois

On Friday afternoon, Mr. Nelson and I met with Mr. Brown and Marcus to review the status of the project before Mr. Nelson went on vacation for two weeks. All the wall units were installed, and the remaining furniture had been delivered, except for Mr. Matheson's custom desk, which was scheduled to be delivered on Tuesday. Most of the painting was done, and the remainder would be completed before the crew knocked off for the day. On Monday, the carpet would be installed, then the finish carpentry would be done, and finally, the remaining furniture would be installed.

"All that's left is the break room," Marcus said. "That's on the building, though, as they don't allow any outside contractors to hook up to the feeds and drains. They promised to do that on Wednesday of next week. What about chairs?"

"Those will be delivered the first week in January," Mr. Nelson said. "The worst-case scenario is we move older chairs from upstairs temporarily."

I'd seen the sample 'staff' chairs, and they were awesome, with six-way adjustments and variable back support. I'd also seen the price and shook my head. That said, I'd be in that chair eight to ten hours a day, so comfort would be very important. The trader's chairs were even more expensive and had even more options.

"I don't see any reason why we won't finish by next Thursday," Marcus said. "That morning we'll have the walkthrough, take care of any punch list items, and schedule the occupancy inspection. That should happen the first week in January."

"With the same games?" I asked.

"No. The Fire Marshal plays it straight. And the building safety equipment is up to current code."

"Kane will do the walkthrough with you," Mr. Nelson said. "I'm going to be on a beach in Hawaiʻi."

"Must be nice," Marcus replied. "I was there when I was in the Navy, which is where I learned the construction trade."

"How long did you serve?" Mr. Nelson asked.

"Six years in the Seabees," Marcus replied. "Got out just before Reagan was elected and was hired by Gerald Brown the minute I walked into his office looking for a job. Did you serve?"

"3rd Battalion, 5th Marines when they went into Incheon. Right out of High School, was injured the day before we retook Seoul, was sent home, then went to college on their dime."

"I spent all my time in the Pacific — Hawaiʻi, the PI, and Japan."

"If there's nothing else," Mr. Nelson said, "I need to get back upstairs."

"Nothing," Marcus said. "I'll coordinate with Jonathan next week."

They shook hands and Mr. Nelson and I headed back up to 30.

"How's it looking?" Bob asked when I walked into the mailroom.

"Good, actually. The painting is almost done, so all that's really left is carpeting and then finish carpentry. At that point, they'll set up the rest of the furniture. The chairs will be here after the first of the year, and that's when the Fire Marshal will give us our occupancy permit. The new Bloomberg terminals will be installed in January, along with trading terminals and quotation machines, and then we move everyone the weekend of the 15th. Matheson's new people start the following Monday."

"Except you, right?"

"Yes. March 1st."

"Dead copier on 32," Jack said, coming into the room. "I mean, totally dead to the point it won't even power on."

"Did you check the outlet?"

"Yes. I borrowed a desk lamp from one of the secretaries and it lit."

"Which one?"

"Number 2, near Mr. Spurgeon's office."

"Well, he's in New York, so he won't be bitching, but I'll call it in."

"He's missing the party?"

"No. He's flying back and is probably in the air right now. His jet can land at Meigs, so it's just a quick ride here."

"I hear that jet can be configured with a bed," Bob said.

"That allows the Big Boss to get plenty of sleep on his trips to Europe or Asia," I said with a grin.

"Right, because none of the rumors about the nookie he likes are true!" Jack declared.

"To my personal knowledge, they are just that — rumors! And I can swear to that in court if need be!"

Bob, Jack, and Sandeep all laughed.

"It's safer that way," Sandeep said. "I do not want to know."

I called the copier company to report the 'down' copier, and they suggested checking the internal circuit breaker, which I promised to do, but asked them to please schedule the tech to come out. They did, and after I hung up, I went upstairs to check the copier. I used my key to open the panel on the back, found the breaker was tripped, reset it, then turned on the machine. The breaker immediately tripped, so I unplugged the machine, locked the maintenance panel, and returned to the mailroom.

I called the company and reported my findings.

"If it's an internal circuit board, that's not going to get fixed today," the dispatcher said. "The tech won't be able to get the parts and be there before 5:00pm. Is first thing Monday OK? I'll make sure the tech has a new power supply and a complete set of replacement circuit boards in his truck."

"So long as it's first thing," I replied. "I'll be here at 7:00am, so as close to that as possible."

"7:30am OK?"

"Yes."

I hung up and let Jack know the outcome and that I'd be in the office early because Mr. Nelson was on vacation. That meant working from his desk, so I'd also move the computer in there for the two weeks he'd be gone, as it would be easier for me.

"Jonathan?" Phil, the head of Information Services, called out from the door.

"Hey, Phil. What's up?"

"The SNA network is down. We're working on it, but I wanted to let you know in case you get any calls."

"I assume Mr. Nelson knows."

"Just told him."

"Thanks for the heads up."

He left and I shook my head. Twenty minutes until New York close was not the time for the computer network to go down. On the plus side, that did not affect the quotation machines or phones, so everyone could still trade. What was missing, though, were position and margin reports, which could create some difficult situations.

One thing I was going to do when I moved to 29 was ensure that literally every position I or a client had would be in a portfolio spreadsheet on my Apple II. That would mean a bit of extra work, but it would be worth it, as I could also run custom reports which otherwise would require submitting a request to Phil's team who would go to the outside vendor who provided the software, and request the additional report, if Mr. Spurgeon agreed to pay for it. At some point, soon, I expected personal computers to be on the desks of every trader, analyst, and assistant.

I couldn't take the one I was using, as Jack would need it in the mailroom, so I made a mental note to ask Mr. Matheson to procure one. If he wouldn't or couldn't, I'd buy it myself and ask for permission to use it at my desk. It would more than pay for itself in short order, so I was positive I'd be able to, in effect, requisition one, especially as I wouldn't need any support from Information Services.

The phone rang, interrupting my thoughts.

"Mailroom, Kane."

"The goddamned computers are down, Kane," Mr. Matheson growled, "and neither that idiot Phil nor your boss are answering their fucking phones!"

"I was just informed about a minute ago," I replied. "I suspect Phil and Mr. Nelson are on the phone with IBM. I'll check and call you right back."

"Do that!" he growled, then slammed down the phone.

"Who?" Jack asked.

"Matheson. Who else? Phil and Mr. Nelson aren't answering their phones."

"Are you going to go check?"

"It won't change anything, but I need to go through the motions."

I got up and went to find Phil, who was in Mr. Nelson's office.

"Matheson is irate," I said.

"Not news," Mr. Nelson said. "We've called IBM, and a tech is on his way."

"One of these times it's going to really bite us," I observed. "We need the redundant system setup."

"TELL me about it," Phil groaned. "I wrote a memo to Mr. Spurgeon right after I started stating what should be blindingly obvious."

"Next year's budget is set, isn't it?" I inquired.

"It is," Mr. Nelson replied. "But I suspect we'll see it modified."

"No ETA for me to give Matheson, right?"

"Right," Phil said. "You know what, let me call him. There's no reason you should take the heat."

Phil looked to Mr. Nelson, who nodded, then picked up the phone and dialed Matheson's number. The conversation went exactly as I expected it would, though the last thing Phil said was that the equipment to provide backup and redundancy had been deleted from three successive budget requests.

"He hung up," Phil said, when he replaced the handset.

"Let him bitch at Mr. Spurgeon," Mr. Nelson said. "There's only one person who can approve the equipment, and Matheson knows it."

"I'm going back to my desk," I said.

I left and finished out the day, though the IBM tech hadn't arrived by 5:00pm. That was going to suck for Phil, as it might mean missing the Christmas party, which began at 7:00pm. That said, it was on the 95th floor of the Hancock Center, so it was possible for him to simply come upstairs, assuming he had his suit with him. I didn't, so I left the office and headed home for a shower and to change into my suit.

Spurgeon offered cab vouchers to get home after the party, so I left my car at home and took the L into the city. As we'd agreed, Haley and I met in the lobby of the 95th floor restaurant about thirty minutes into the cocktail hour. She had her long blonde tresses draped over her shoulders, hiding the straps of the black cocktail dress she was wearing, which showed off her gorgeous figure.

"Hi!" she exclaimed. "You look great in your suit!"

"Thanks," I replied. "You look great in that dress!"

She was also wearing black high heels, which made her perhaps two inches shorter than me, rather than four, and made her long legs look even longer. She wore just a hint of makeup and lip gloss rather than lipstick, and had struck the perfect balance between midwestern girl next door and classy arm candy.

I held out my arm, she slipped her arm through mine and we went into the room.

"I'd like to sit with Jack and Kristy," I said. "If that's OK with you."

"It is. I certainly don't want to sit with anyone from upstairs or Mrs. Peterson!"

Jack and Kristy fortuitously walked in just then and the four of us went to a table that was towards the back of the room, which, given our status, was expected. Technically, I couldn't drink, but nobody would say a word and nobody would card me, so I asked Haley what she wanted.

"Can I get you a drink?" I asked Haley.

"A Manhattan, please," she said.

"Be right back."

I went over to the bar, ordered Haley's drink and a bourbon for myself.

"I heard you got promoted!" Samantha Spurgeon said, coming over to the bar.

"I did," I replied. "Has your dad decided it's OK for you to drink?"

"No! I can have a Coke."

I asked the barman for a Coke for her.

"How old are you?" I asked.

"Six!" she replied. "I'll be seven in April."

"Do you like these parties?"

"Not really, but Dad wants me here, so here I am, wearing a dumb formal dress!"

"You look cute," I said.

She rolled her eyes, "I hate dresses!"

"Last year you accepted a compliment," I replied.

"I was five! Now I'm six!"

"Sorry," I replied with a smile.

"You should be"! she exclaimed.

Samantha got her Coke and scampered away with it without another word. I tipped the barman, then took the drinks back to the table.

"Scotch?" Haley asked with an arched eyebrow.

"Bourbon. I don't make enough money to have developed a taste for Scotch!"

"Scotch is overrated!" Kristy declared. "Irish whisky is better."

"What did you order, Jonathan?" Haley asked.

"The prime rib, of course."

"Same."

About twenty minutes later, the waiters and waitresses began serving salads and bread. The meal was excellent, as it had been the previous Christmas, and the speeches were just as boring. What wasn't boring were the bonus checks, which were handed out by Mr. Spurgeon's secretaries. I peeked at mine and was surprised by the amount — $4000, less taxes, which was quintuple the amount from the previous year. I knew from things that had been said, that was the maximum bonus anyone on 30 would receive, except for the two managers, Mr. Nelson and Mrs. Peterson. Of course, the amount was tiny compared to my potential bonus for 1983, but that was the difference between being the mailroom supervisor and actually earning money for the firm. I slipped the envelope into my pocket and finished my dessert.

After dessert, the dance floor was opened and Jack, Kristy, Haley, and I all got up to dance.

"Happy with your bonus?" she asked as we moved to the center of the floor.

"Very. Do you know the numbers?"

"Yes. I coordinate payroll. Of course, compared to your potential for next year, it's pocket money."

"It's a bit more than that," I countered. "I'd need to earn what Mr. Matheson does for it to be pocket money!"

The first song that was played was upbeat, so we didn't dance close, but the second was slower, and Haley stepped close. I put my arms around her, she put hers around my neck, and danced just close enough for her breasts to rub against my chest. Her nipples hardened, and I was at risk for a reaction the slacks of my suit wouldn't hide.

Despite the sensation and the desire it created, I wasn't sure it would be a good idea. If I was going to set aside my rule, it couldn't be for another fling, similar to the one I'd had with Sharon. And that, in my mind, required a further conversation with Haley, as the last thing I wanted to do was cause myself any trouble at Spurgeon. We finished our dance and went to the bar to get drinks, then went to sit at our table.

That was how the rest of the evening went — two or three dances, then drinks, though I alternated between Cokes and bourbon so as not to get drunk, though I did have a nice buzz by the end of the evening. After a last slow dance, the music ended, and everyone headed for the elevators. There was a line for cabs, and I was in no rush, so I decided to sit down on a sofa in the lobby, and Haley joined me.

"Did you enjoy the party?" Haley asked.

"I did. Did you have a good time?"

"Absolutely! Did you enjoy the party enough to overcome your objections to going on a date with someone from the office and ask me out?"

Given the conversation which had led to her being my date for the firm Christmas party, I couldn't really say 'no', though I was still a bit concerned about how things might turn out if things went south. What had happened with Rachel made me cautious, but I felt Haley was unlikely to react badly, no matter what happened.

"I'm going to Ohio next weekend to see my mom," I replied. "And I have other stuff going on next week, so how about we talk after the holidays?"

"So long as 'talk' means we'll make a date."

"It does."

Of course, it was entirely possible Bev and I would come to some kind of resolution, which might mean not being able to date Haley, but I'd worry about that after I saw Bev.

"Great!" Haley exclaimed.

The line shortened, so we got up and joined it, and about ten minutes later, we hugged, Haley gave me a quick peck on the lips, and she got into a cab. I got into the next one and settled in for the ride home.

December 18, 1982, Chicago, Illinois

"How was your party?" Bianca asked when I came downstairs late on Saturday morning.

"The food was good, and I enjoyed hanging out with Jack and Kristy."

"Cool. What are you doing today?"

"No plans," I replied. "My computer science class is finished and I don't have any studying to do because I've taken my licensure exam. I do need to do some Christmas shopping, though."

"You know, we never discussed putting up a tree," Bianca said.

"I didn't really think about it because I'll be in Ohio and the two of you will be with your families. I don't have a problem with getting a small artificial tree and a strand of lights and a few ornaments."

"Let's do that. I mean, sure, we won't be here, but it is Christmastime."

"Let me eat breakfast, shower, and then we can go. What about Shelly?"

"She's upstairs; I'll ask her."

I made breakfast for myself, and after I ate, I went upstairs to shower and dress. When I came back downstairs, Bianca and Shelly were waiting. The three of us went out to my car and, after a brief discussion, headed for the Old Orchard Mall in Skokie. If we didn't find what we wanted, we'd go to Lakehurst Mall in Waukegan.

We were out for about four hours, and I purchased the gifts I needed, and we also purchased an artificial tree. Given the prices and sizes, we ended up buying an eight-foot tree, along with four strands of lights, and about three-dozen ornaments. We arrived home mid-afternoon, set up the tree, and wrapped our presents.

We decided to order pizza for dinner and then Bianca and Shelly went to the video store to rent a movie. They had just left when the phone rang and I went to answer it.

"Kane," I said.

"Jonathan? This is Irene Andros, Lily's mom."

I immediately had a sense of foreboding.

"Is Lily OK?" I asked.

"Yes. The car she was riding in with her friend Julie was rear-ended on the Ike. Both girls are being kept overnight for observation because they complained about whiplash symptoms."

"Can I see her?"

"Not tonight," Mrs. Andros said. "I know she's supposed to come to your house tomorrow, but she won't be able to drive, and I think she should stay home."

"If she's released, when would it be?"

"Sometime in the morning."

"OK. I'll call tomorrow, if that's OK."

"Yes, of course. She asked me to call you and she absolutely will want to see you."

"You're sure they're both going to be OK?"

"Yes. The doctors say they're fine, and are keeping them in an abundance of caution."

"OK. I'll call tomorrow. Thanks."

We said 'goodbye' and I hung up. I realized I need to call Violet, so I picked up the phone and dialed her number. I let her know what had happened and promised to pick her up. She was worried about Lily, but I reassured her that Lily was OK based on what Mrs. Andros had said. We agreed I'd pick her up at 11:00am, we said 'goodbye', and I hung up.