Chapter 50: Back to the Life of Luxury

The first two hundred miles of our trip was very similar to our first trip together nearly two years before. I was stewing about none of my friends showing up to see me off and didn't feel like talking. Ned gave me my space.

I was disappointed that Daniel Olsen had not driven into town or that Coach Sterns, Buzz Summers and Greg Justin had not made an appearance. Becky had flatly refused to watch us drive away, saying it was not the way she wanted to remember me. My Mom was there, blubbering, but I doubt if even she would have been there if it had been possible to avoid saying goodbye.

After we stopped for gas and to take a leak I thought it was time to snap out of my morose mood. I stated the obvious; how could I miss it? "You have a new car," I said. He explained that the old one was five years old and had been driven a lot of miles so Mr. Oldham very generously told him to get a new one. It was another Volvo, not much different from the old one, right down to the dull blue color.

Next, I asked Ned questions about the neighborhood and some of the people. He told me that everyone at the Oldham house was looking forward to my homecoming. The pool was open and a college student cared for the park. Mr. Oldham and Suzanne were still working long hours. He said he had seen the Baldwin sisters hanging around the tennis courts and that he had heard that Alice was coming home from school for a short vacation.

I asked him what Mr. Oldham had in store for me. "There's a stack of books and a reading list waiting on your desk and you're going to be working four mornings per week in the office. Other than that your time is your own. Oh, I heard Suzanne say she is going to beat your ass at golf."

"I'll bet she does," I laughed, remembering what a terror Suzanne was on the golf course.

"Are they ever going to get married?" I asked, thinking of what Judge Clausen had said about Mr. Oldham and Suzanne.

Ned shook his head. "That's a tough one. Sometimes I think he's ready to pop the question and other times it looks like it will never happen. I don't know if John thinks he's too old for her or if he has cold feet because of what happened to Marian and Noland."

"What about you and Penelope?" I asked, trying to make it sound casual.

Ned's head darted to the right and then straight ahead again. We must have driven two miles before he spoke. "She won't have me, not on a permanent basis," he said, with finality in his voice that told me to drop the subject.

"What about Sonya? Does she still come for visits?" I don't know what made me think of Sonya. I did know that Penelope was opposed to her daughter having anything to do with me. I wondered if it was because she knew too much about my relationships with women or if it was a black and white thing.

"Sonya visits but not as often as her mother would like. The old man keeps her on a short leash," Ned said without mentioning Penelope's aversion to me associating with her daughter.

"She's what, fifteen now?" I asked.

"Sonya? She'll be fifteen next month. We're having a party for her. You're invited," he said, making me wonder if Penelope had relaxed her obsession with keeping me distant from her daughter.

Ned kept asking me if I was hungry and I kept telling him I could wait until he needed to stop for gas. At one p.m. he pulled off the road and told me we were eating because he was hungry. We had been on the road about six hours and only had two hundred miles left to finish the trip, which would put us at the Oldham home in time for me to get cleaned up before Mr. Oldham got home. At lunch, the subject turned back to my responsibilities.

"I hope you really buckle down and apply yourself this summer, Sammy. John had a hell of a time getting that asshole at C.M.A. to take you back but you are enrolled. I'm not talking about kissing Mr. Oldham's feet, just give him the respect he deserves. Make damn sure you take your work at the office seriously and don't do anything that will embarrass him. John wants you to have your share of fun. Those cottages will be at your disposal and he expects you to make the best use of them. John's putting a lot of stock in you and it will please him if you make an effort to do your best. Got it?"

Ned finished his lecture and picked up his corned beef sandwich. I didn't know what to make of him. He had always been demanding of me, telling me what to do, but his little speech about Mr. Oldham's expectations of me was new. Didn't he think I appreciated what Mr. Oldham gave me and did for me? And what was that about the cottages being at my disposal? I had hardly paid attention when he mentioned Alice coming home and the Baldwin sisters hanging around the tennis courts. The only reason I showed interest in Sonya was to find out if Penelope was as protective of her daughter as she had been.

I considered telling him about Becky and me being a one-woman man. But had I really changed? Had I made a commitment to her? All I knew was that I had a sick feeling in my chest, empty, like part of me was missing. There was no sense in telling Ned how I felt. It wouldn't bring Becky any closer.

"You're going to notice a change in the man, Sammy. He's beginning to show his age. I'm warning you so it won't shock you when you see him. Don't let on that I said anything, okay?"

"Yes Sir," I said, beginning to understand the reason for his lecture. "It sounds like Colonel Travis is still in charge of the school. I thought there might be a change," I said, thinking about what Ned had told me about Mr. Oldham having to battle to get me reenrolled at C.M.A.

Ned laughed. "Don't count on the Colonel leaving any time soon. He'll be there when you send your firstborn to C.M.A."

The conversation lightened up for the rest of the trip. I told him about the football games we had lost by close scores and about the ten-K races that I had lost by as little as two seconds. We talked about golf and tennis but I didn't say anything about Mr. Avella and his desire to hang out with high school football players or how I managed to bed my child-care worker. Nothing from that period seemed important enough to talk about and I wanted to avoid bringing up Becky. The mere mention of her name would have made me want to talk about her and I didn't think I was ready to tell Ned or anyone else about her. I did tell him about the signal Mr. Olsen and I worked out for him to turn off the light over the barn door. But I didn't say anything about the cocklebur and its influence on my life. Nor did I tell him about my nickname, Apple. Those things were just too private to talk about, even to Ned.

Betsy and Molly were waiting for us at the door to welcome me home. They repeatedly remarked about how much I had grown. They looked the same as when I left. Ned and I carried my things upstairs and Molly helped put my clothes away.

"Don't bother to put those slacks on a hanger, Molly. I don't know why I brought them. They don't fit any longer. They can go to charity," I said.

"Charity begins at home, Mr. Sammy," Molly said and I watched her measure the slacks, mentally.

"Would you like to see if they fit your grandson, Molly?" I asked. And seeing her eyes light up made me wish I had thought to ask her that before she made such a show of checking the length and waist measurements. By the time we were finished putting my clothes away there were several pairs of slacks, shirts and even a belt that I could no longer get into. I even threw in the suede jacket that had been left out in the rain. I hadn't even tried it on since it came back from the cleaners. I helped her carry the cloths downstairs and we found a box to put the stuff in.

"My grandson is going to think its Christmas. Your clothes are such good quality. It's a shame you outgrow everything so fast, Mr. Sammy."

"I won't need as many clothes here because I'll be wearing a uniform five days a week," I said, as much for my benefit as Molly's. I hated shopping in the same stores where Mr. Oldham bought his clothes, the clerks fawning over me like I held a key to their future. But I would still need to shop for clothes to wear on weekends.

Betsy and Molly left the house about six p.m., but not before making sure that I knew where everything was for our evening meal. Molly had the box of my outgrown clothes under her arm, thanking me for the sixth time. "Charity begins at home," she reminded me.

Mr. Oldham arrived home early that day, well, early for him. He inspected me thoroughly from head to toe, checking, I suppose, how much I had grown but also for signs of maturity. I looked him over too but I didn't detect the changes that Ned had warned me about. His greeting was warm and familiar, like we had not been apart for the past nine months. We spent the evening talking leisurely, him asking questions and me answering them with the respect that I knew he demanded from me.

I didn't get the opportunity to ask him any of the questions that were on my mind. How are you feeling, Mr. Oldham? How is Suzanne? When are you going to let me get my permit to drive? Did you save Ned's old Volvo for me?

I didn't have to ask what was expected of me. Ned had informed me about my work schedule and the stack of books I found on my desk. The weekly golf-date with Suzanne was assumed; otherwise, my time was my own.

"You can take a few days to become reacquainted with the surroundings, Sammy. Next Monday will be your first day at the office," Mr. Oldham said when it was time to retire.

"Yes, Sir," I said, as I headed upstairs to my room.

June 8^th, 1987

Dear Becky,

We arrived before five p.m. and everything looks the same although I have not been to the park yet. I spent the evening with my guardian, Mr. Oldham. Some of the questions he asked made me think he had a spy watching me for the past nine months. Do you remember the game when I was carried off the field and everyone thought I had a concussion? He knew about that! He even gave me hell for going back in the game. It may have been Judge Clausen or it could have been Priscilla Baker that went to the games and reported back to Mr. Oldham. I don't know who it was; that's not the kind of questions you ask Mr. Oldham. He even knew about the play and I suspected he knew about you, too. It was like it was on the tip of his tongue to ask, "Is that young lady you were head over heels about really as cute as I was told?" But he didn't ask and I didn't volunteer to tell him that you are cuter than anyone could describe.

I'm in my room. It is four times the size of Heather's room but you know that. It overlooks the pool. I wish you were here. We would take a midnight swim. I really wish you were here. Do you miss me as much as I miss you?

I'll be going to work at Mr. Oldham's office next Monday but until then, I'm free to get started on my summer reading list. I just noticed it includes Hawthorne. Do you think I should tell Mr. Oldham that we read Hawthorne last year? That would be the honorable thing to do but I don't think I will do it. The list has one of Mr. Shakespeare's plays on it. That will take me all summer to learn. I wish you were here to explain it to me.

I've told you about Ned. He's Mr. Oldham's driver but he also takes care of things around here. Ned has a new car. But I spotted the old car in the garage. He didn't say anything about it being parked there and Mr. Oldham didn't mention it either but I think it may be for me to learn to drive with. It's a 1982 Volvo, four-door sedan and faded blue color. If I learn to drive I'll come and take you for a ride. Would you like that?

Please write to me. Remember, my name is Sammy Oldham here. I may never use my real name again.

Your boyfriend, who is still waiting to be cleared for takeoff,

Sammy

I wrote my mother a short note to tell her that we made the trip without incident and to thank her for everything she did to make my stay enjoyable. I ended the note by asking her to forward any news about Heather.

I got up in time to have breakfast with Mr. Oldham, still looking for the signs that Ned had spoken about. There were new wrinkles around his mouth that I didn't remember seeing before and his hair was longer than he used to wear it but otherwise, he seemed unchanged. I wondered if Ned's warning was unfounded.

"Molly tells me you've outgrown your clothes again. Do you have a tie and a shirt that fits?" Mr. Oldham asked when I took my seat next to him at the breakfast bar. Molly looked at me, apologetically, like it couldn't be helped.

"Yes Sir," I said.

"You're to dress for work appropriately this year. No jeans, understand?"

"Yes Sir," I said, wondering what was in store for me. I had a tie and had worn it once or twice, preferring to confine the wearing of ties to when I was at school.

After Mr. Oldham left, Molly handed me a note from her grandson.

Mr. Oldham,

Thank you for the clothes. They all fit real good except one pair of pants. My grandma says she can let the waistline out. They will come in real handy when I go back to school. The coat will be the right size when it starts to get cold. Keep me in mind when you get too big to wear the next ones.

Randal

"He writes a nice note," I said to Molly, who beamed. Other than 'waste line' being crossed out and waistline inserted, the note was neatly written in a backhand style that Randal must have thought suited him.

I retired to my room and looked at the reading list. Hawthorne was the first author on the list. I wondered if Mr. Oldham's spy had told him about Becky and me reading Hawthorne. I opened the Shakespeare book and thumbed through it to see if I could pick up any good quotes that Becky would recognize if I included them in my next letter to her. Finding nothing I wanted to risk quoting as if it were an original idea of mine, I began reading one of the assignments, Much Ado About Nothing.

After an hour of reading I was dizzy. What kind of name is Hero for a girl? She's there for the first scene, she has no lines and yet she gets a couple of guys so worked up they are talking about her after she leaves. Her cousin seems to be the talkative one.

It was after nine a.m. and I needed some air. I decided to go for a run. As I rounded the far end of the track I saw two guys playing but otherwise the courts were empty. On my next lap they were taking a breather so I stopped to chat. No wonder I didn't recognize them. They had only recently moved to the neighborhood. We exchanged small talk and I went on my way, hoping I would remember their names. Joe Ford was twenty and heading back to college for a summer course soon. His brother Josh was thirteen. That's all they told me about themselves. I gave them my name and said that I had just returned to the neighborhood myself. When I made my last lap of the day the Ford brothers were not there.

I was halfway up the stairs when Molly caught me. "Miss Suzanne called. She said for you to call back as soon as you came in."

"Sammy, I hope you've been practicing," Suzanne said when I returned her call. "Betsy is going to have lunch ready when I get there. Be ready, okay?"