Chapter 18

Jim Dawson arrived and he had Merrilee Adams with him. We learned that Merrilee — or ML — was both Jim’s first conquest after Jean but also one of the finest software writers in the world. It was late by the time they arrived, but we knew they hadn’t eaten, so we had a late dinner.

Kris and the girls outdid themselves in the kitchen. To my surprise, my mother even contributed a dish. At dinner it really became funny. Over cognac, I became totally lost as a heated conversation about computers and software — debate? — developed among ML, Jean, Tina, Sandy and Susan. Most of the time I didn’t have the foggiest idea what they were even talking about. Yet both Mother and Kris listened with great interest — and apparent understanding — while Dad, Liz and I were just utterly lost. At that point the three of us began our own conversation regarding NFL prospects for the coming season.

Mom and Kris? Somehow they managed to keep track of both sets and participate in both, too.

What became abundantly clear to everyone that night was that ML Adams and Tina Miller were kindred spirits. When it was time for bed, there was not even any discussion; Merrilee just followed Tina to her room.

The next morning two things happened: First, Mom immediately started the wheels turning for our wedding. She had decided on the following Saturday. Needless to say, neither Kris nor I were even consulted. The second was her playing croquet with Susan and Sandy.

Now I’m sure you’ve all played croquet. But few of you have played that croquet — the real game. It’s played on a surface as level as the top of a billiard table. On long shots, the wickets are 100 feet apart. Oh, yeah ... The wickets are wrought iron and the clearance through them is the diameter of the croquet ball plus the thickness of a business card. (That’s right: thickness. Not the length or the width, the thickness.) To say the very least, it’s even more different from lawn croquet than Pop Warner football is from the NFL.

It had started when we spent Memorial Day with my parents. They had installed a croquet setup — which Mom and Kris played nude — and Kris was determined to have one of our own. So we do. And like my parents’, it’s bent grass. Kris even had to buy a special lawnmower used on golf greens to keep it appropriately trimmed.

Anyway, Mom and her granddaughters were playing, nude, of course. She played against the two girls because of her experience and the girls’ lack of it. For about two hours, all the rest of us heard was laughter and girlish giggling. It ended rather suddenly with the sound of three splashes in our pool. The day was sunny and very hot.

While the wheels were turning with the wedding preparations — we were to be married in Westchester with the reception at my parents’ home — Mom and Dad took their granddaughters under their wing. I really don’t think there was a significant sight in New York City that they missed.

And each day ended the same way. The girls were absolutely bubbling and my parents were ecstatic. It seems that it wasn’t hard to convince the Dawsons to stay over in New York. We learned that Susan was scheduled to conduct her First Symphony with the New York Philharmonic on Saturday. Strangely believe it, tickets were found for the composer/conductor’s relatives and friends.

Since what I know about symphonic conducting would rattle on the head of a pin, I didn’t realize there was anything out of the ordinary when Susan spent only a single afternoon rehearsing with the orchestra. But what I did see were lengthy conferences among Susan, ML and Tina. But what did I know?

On Saturday evening, I was informed that the night was very special. White tie and tails, would you believe? Off we went in a couple of limousines. The only thing that really did surprise me was Dad’s dress. He was quite casual, wearing Bermuda shorts, high socks and no tie, although he did have an ascot at his neck. Compared with my white tie, I had to wonder.

The program opened with Susan conducting the orchestra in her Symphony #1. I guess it was the first time I had ever heard it, and it was utterly magnificent. Reading the program notes, I learned that the first movement — dark and foreboding in a minor key — was the past, when Susan and Sandy had been held as sex slaves. The second movement sounded great hope, but with overtones of fear. The final movement — entitled “Today” — was glorious! It was in a major key and just loaded with joy. Finally, there was an utterly joyous 4^th movement — the chorale — that was as happy as the 4^th movement of Beethoven’s Ninth is stirring. And her conducting was utterly superb.

After the intermission, Susan Dawson conducted her “Variations on Themes From Childhood”. It was the most beguiling work I’ve ever heard. I still don’t know how many children’s songs she wove together — eight? ten? I really don’t know — but the result was incredible. Even woven together, each maintained its identity, and the overall effect was unreal. At its conclusion, again Susan received a standing ovation.

Then there seemed to be some confusion on stage. The musicians were changing the music on their stands, but they seemed confused. At the same time, a giant projection screen came down behind the orchestra.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Susan announced, “tonight I am premiering my latest work. It’s a tone poem entitled, ‘My Grandparents’. I hope you will like it.”

Only then did I begin to understand what Susan had been conferring with Tina and ML about. Who were they, after all? Only the two finest software writers alive in the world is all. Or maybe the three finest; Susie really knew her way around a computer too. And what had they been doing? Apparently they had been encoding a series of stills and video films to synchronize with a live orchestra. Doing it with recorded music would have been a lead-pipe cinch. But a live orchestra? A very different story. But that’s exactly what they had done.