Chapter 23B

That night at dinner, all I paid attention to was Uncle Bunny. A few times, people said something to me, but I was too busy trying to see what Uncle Bunny had meant, to be able to respond well to their questions. I was afraid they'd think I was retarded or something. We were all together from seven o'clock until almost ten thirty. Mama let Dad present the full terms of their offer to David and Craig. Uncle Bunny was to be the liaison man with them, and the one who handled the funding for the new machinery and the raw materials they'd be ordering. Mama was the social one at the table, telling both wives how much she was looking forward to seeing their families grow and prosper under the new company that they were forming. Both of the women were very happy and excited, especially when Mama told them the company would be paying payroll three months in advance for David and Craig. She said she didn't want them being distracted by any worries they might have at home, because any start up business required full concentration.

Not once did Uncle Bunny volunteer anything that whole evening. He smiled and nodded, laughed when it was appropriate, and answered any questions sent his way. Other than that, nothing. I was surprised when, as we were all saying our goodbyes, everyone made such a fuss about him. He passed out his business cards and told David and Craig to call him if they needed him for anything. Nell kissed him on the cheek when she said goodbye. I got a handshake, and so did Dad. Mama was the belle of the evening though, having completely won over both of the wives with her optimistic predictions for their future.

Later, up in our suite, I accused Uncle Bunny of having mislead me. "You didn't do anything Uncle Bunny. You sat there until someone asked you a direct question. You didn't participate in any of the regular table conversation at all." Uncle Bunny just smiled at me. I kept talking, letting him know how closely I'd been paying attention. I wanted him to understand that I hadn't been missing anything he was supposed to be doing. He just hadn't been doing anything. Finally, I ran out of things to say to him.

"It isn't important so much what you say or do, Kenny. The important thing is for people to know that you are there for them, and that you're interested in their problems, and in their points of view. I tried to make everyone feel that way tonight. At the same time, I was trying to show you that it wasn't anything that was very hard to accomplish. I hope I succeeded?"

I just looked at him. I wanted to say something to him, to refute what he'd just told me. The trouble was, I believed he was probably right. He had done almost nothing, and yet those people all seemed to really like and respect him, and his opinions. Opinions that he had never given voice to. Could it really be so simple?

"Kenny, it isn't that simple. Tonight was an exaggerated situation. It works much better when you make active contributions. I was simply making my point with you. Did you notice that everyone at the table tonight was working their own agenda?"

"I didn't have an agenda."

"You certainly did. You were trying to discover what it was I did that made it possible for me to be well thought of by a number of people. Bertie was trying to enlist support for her efforts from the wives. Tommy was being the benevolent ruler. David and Craig were trying not to seem too overwhelmed by the decision they were jointly making. The wives were there to make sure their husbands didn't waffle or backslide."

"What was your agenda, Uncle Bunny?"

"To make each of them like and accept me, and to show you that social acceptance is very easy to achieve. The question you should ask though, is whether social acceptance is worth the price you have to pay? I've lately come to believe that it might not be."

I was a little bit taken aback by Uncle Bunny's admission. He seemed like a happy person. I wondered what was wrong. I would have asked him about it, but I was afraid that would seem impertinent of me. I went off to my own bedroom and went to sleep. Uncle Bunny was also right about us going to the Museum of Science and Industry. I thought almost all the exhibits were interesting. I didn't think that Mama or Uncle Bunny were that interested, but Dad and I hurried around, trying to take in as much as we could before they closed. Mama had insisted on a nice, leisurely brunch at the hotel before we left. We didn't get to the museum until after two, and they closed at five, I think. We didn't see even half the things that were there to be seen. Dad was telling me about the Smithsonian Institute in Washington D. C., and promised to take me there someday.

We all had lobster Sunday night. It was very good, but it was also very expensive. These were Maine lobsters that were flown in live. They were kept in a big tank up in front of the restaurant and you could pick out the one you wanted. Dad and I picked the two biggest ones. Mama and Uncle Bunny told us the smaller ones tasted better. My lobster was over four and a half pounds. Dad's was a little bit bigger. I let Uncle Bunny have a taste of mine and he let me have a bite of his. They both tasted the same to me. Uncle Bunny looked right at me after eating the piece I'd cut off for him. He smiled and said something about living and learning. Dad and I both ate all of our lobster. Mama and Uncle Bunny had a drink while they waited for us to finish. I liked dipping the lobster in drawn butter, but it was messy and the butter got dripped over everything. Neither of us had put on the bibs they'd brought for us.

Monday morning at a little after six, we took off from Chicago. Dad stayed in Bolling, but Mama wanted to play some golf, so Dad told me to go home and play some golf too. When we got home, while Mama was changing, I called Shirley, but she wasn't at home.

As soon as Mama drove into the parking lot at the club, I saw Shirley hitting balls with an older, very tall man. He was really tall, so I just assumed it had to be her father. I told Mama that was my friend Shirley, so she came over with me to meet her, and to say hello.

"Hello Shirley, this is my mother, Roberta Parsons. Mama, this is my friend, Shirley Jones." I could tell that Shirley was glad to see me. Her shirt was tighter today, and it was a lot easier to see that she had breasts. They weren't as big as I'd earlier thought. They were a lot more than nothing though. "Are you playing today?"

"This is my father, Ronald Jones, Sr., Daddy this is Kenny Parsons and his mother, Roberta Parsons." The introductions having been made, she could answer my question about them playing. "No, we just came out to hit a few balls. Are you playing?"

"Yes. We just got back from Chicago, and Mama wants to clean her lungs out from the airplane. She thinks the air out here is good for your lungs."

"I not only think it, I know it. Airplane air can't be very healthy. Smell how nice this air here is. You don't have to be a genius to know which air is healthier for you. Mr. Jones, if you have the time, Kenny and I would love to have you join us for a quick eighteen. Have you played here before?"

"Once before with my boss. Too much talk about business, and too little time to enjoy the course. Thank you for the invitation, Roberta, but we'll have to take a rain check. I have a meeting scheduled for one o'clock. An unavoidable meeting with that same boss."

"Well, that's too bad. We should get together for some golf, since our children are friends. I understand you've just moved to Ridgeline?"

"Yes, and it's starting to look like a big mistake, I'm sorry to say. I can't perform miracles, and Gordon seems to have expected one from me."

"Gordon is your boss?"

"Gordon Malcolmb, perhaps you know of him?"

"An insufferable ass. I used to attend school with him. You work for Chandler Carpet Mill then?"

"For one month now. I doubt I'll make it for another month. Gordon made it clear this morning that he was very unhappy with my first month here. He told me to take the day off, and to meet him here at one."

"Ellen Chandler Malcolmb is a very sweet woman. Her father founded the mill that Gordon married into. Ellen married poorly in my opinion. I don't envy you having to work with that man. Would you mind if Shirley joined us? I know that Kenny is dying to see her golf swing close up. We can run her back home when we're done."

Mr. Jones reached for his wallet, but Mama told him we had a special membership that allowed for free guests. I carried Shirley's bag down to the carts, while Mama went in and saw to our tee time.

When Mama came out of the pro shop and saw that I'd tied Shirley's bag alongside mine, she just smiled at us. I saw that Shirley had been waiting to see Mama's reaction. We decided to all play from the ladies tees. Mama was as impressed with Shirley's swing as I had been. I heard her telling Shirley that she needed to follow through with her shots more. For the front nine, my tee shots were usually the shortest of the three of us. I was trying too hard and gripping the club too tightly, anxious to really give the ball a ride. Fortunately, my approach shots were more accurate than normal, and I managed to sink three longish putts. I shot a thirty eight on the front. Mama led all of us with a thirty four. Shirley sunk a nice putt on the ninth, for a thirty eight, the same as me. On the back nine, I spent too much time behind Shirley, watching her wiggling her butt, while she tried to get a comfortable stance for each shot. I blew up to a forty five, while Shirley carded a thirty nine, to beat me by six strokes. Mama fired another thirty four on the back, for a sixty eight. Having seen Shirley shoot a seventy seven, I realized I'd need to really work on my game if I hoped to ever beat her again.

On the drive back home, Mama had Shirley sit up front, in the middle, between both of us. We dropped her off in front of a nice house over on Cornett Avenue. She thanked both of us for asking her to play, and I told her that I'd call her later.

I waited until after five thirty to call Shirley. When I got through, she was very upset. Her father had been fired from his job, and they were going to move back to Salt Lake City. I felt really bad for her, and for myself as well. The only good news was that they weren't moving back until after the boys left to go back to college, in another three weeks.

At dinner, Mama asked me what was wrong. When I told her about Shirley's dad being fired, she told me not to worry. When Dad started asking questions, Mama mentioned Gordon Malcolmb's, name and Dad made a sour face.

"What did he do for the mill, Kenny?"

"He was the sales manager for the whole company. He's only been there for a month, and they moved here all the way from Salt Lake City."

"Is he a Mormon?"

"I asked Shirley that too. She says they aren't. I think she said they were Methodists or something."

"We can hire him, Thomas. We can always use a good salesman or whatever Kenny said he was. Shirley's a nice girl, and she's Kenny's friend. She has a beautiful, flowing, golf swing too."

I laughed. "You think it looks good because it looks like your golf swing." Mama smiled and nodded that I was right.

"We don't know anything about him. Maybe Malcolmb had good reason to fire him."

"After one month? How many sales managers have you terminated, one month after hiring them?"

"Maybe I'm just a lot more thorough in my selection process."

"Maybe Gordon Malcolmb has run that company so far into the ground no one could have come in and saved it. Didn't you tell me that the bank told you that he was overextended? I never knew what Ellen saw in that twerp anyway. He was always so creepy in school."

"They didn't say he was overextended, they said he lost a big contract. That's two entirely different things."

"Kenny, call up Shirley after dinner and invite her and her parents over for drinks and some of Gerta's wonderful desserts. Gerta, do you have anything sweet on hand for three guests? Something that might go well as a dessert with brandy?" Gerta was just coming in to gather up the dinner dishes. She smiled, and said she had a German chocolate cake that she had just gotten that morning. I was sure it came from the Kleinsmith deli. I stood up and went up to my room. I hadn't seen either Jane or Grace, and I wondered where they were.

"Hi, Shirley, it's Kenny. My mother and father wanted to invite your parents over for some drinks and dessert tonight. You're welcome too. I'll show you my room. I have my own balcony. I bet you could see your house from it."

"I don't think so Kenny. Both my parents are pretty upset. Maybe another time would be better."

"I think my dad wants to meet your dad, to see if he'd be right for a job he has with his company."

"Really? What kind of company does your dad have?"

"It's a baking and distributing company. We also make cereals and we do some vending. I'm not sure what my Dad has in mind, but I hope your parents will come over. Both of them know your dad's old boss, and neither of them like him. I'm going to call my Uncle Bunny too, because he knows everybody. If he comes over, I'm sure they'll offer your dad something."

Instead of her asking her parents herself, she gave me their phone number and asked me to call them myself. I thought that was strange, but I took down the number and called them. Mr. Jones answered the phone. He had a very deep voice, and I recognized it right away.

"Mr. Jones, this is Kenny Parsons, Shirley's friend. We met today at the country club?"

Hi, Kenny. Yes, I remember. Here, let me give you the number to Shirley's private line."

"No sir, I have her number. My parents asked me to call you and Mrs. Jones, to invite you over for drinks and dessert."

"Thank you, Kenny, but I'm afraid I'm going to have to decline this invitation too. My wife and I have some planning to do."

"I'm sorry Mr. Jones, but that's one of the reasons my parents wanted to invite you over tonight, before you did too much planning. They heard about Mr. Malcolmb, and they wanted to talk to you about the possibilities that are around here right now."

"Are your parents in the employment agency business?"

"No, they own a rather large baking and distribution company. They have more than two thousand employees. They know you were a sales manager for Mr. Malcolmb, and my Dad wanted to meet you."

"I was the national sales manager for Chandler Carpet, Kenny, and for Zion Carpet Mills before that. Does your father know that?"