Chapter 2

During the summer, I scored a big contract with the town school board and began working with an architect on a new school design. It was to be a departure from the conventional school configuration and I was, for the first time in a long time, really excited about something. On top of that, although the contract for materials would go through the bid process, local suppliers would be given preference. I was pretty sure my employer would get a better than even chance to win what would be a huge contract.

The contract provided bonuses for early completion and under-budget spending. I worked closely with the architect and engineering firms to make sure we modularized everything we could to cut costs and to make construction and assembly as simple as possible. We succeeded and I felt a great sense of satisfaction when the bids were received and my employer won the supply contract.

I went back to house and apartment design with an enhanced reputation and some solid connections with both the town and the architectural community. It revitalized me and I was feeling better than I had in a long time.

It was early that fall that I met Marilyn's parents. It was quite by accident. They had come into the store to look at kitchen cabinets and fixtures. They were considering remodeling their kitchen.

All the other sales consultants were busy and I saw them standing and wondering when they would find someone to talk to. I left my upstairs office and walked down to the main floor and approached them.

"Good morning, may I help you?" I asked.

"Yes ... thank you. We are considering remodeling our kitchen. We need some advice," the attractive middle-aged woman said.

"I'll be glad to help. My name is Tory Payne? I work in the design department," I said.

"Oh ... I'm Margaret Lee and this is my husband, Walter," she said looking carefully at me. "Do I know you? Your name sounds familiar."

I shrugged. I looked at them both and noticed the Asian features of her husband. It dawned on me who they might be.

"Do you have a daughter, Marilyn?"

"Yes ... yes we do," she replied quickly.

"Ah ... well ... that explains it. Her friend Molly and your daughter and I were involved in a weight-loss program."

"Of course! You're the Tory that Marilyn always talked about. Walter and I were absolutely amazed at what you accomplished," she gushed. Walter, who had yet to say a word, was nodding vigorously.

"We don't hear from her very much. She used to talk about you and Molly all the time. We were very happy that you helped her so much. I can't thank you enough for what you did for her. I'm just sorry it's taken us this long to tell you that," Walter said quietly.

"Now, she seldom calls and when she does, she hardly ever mentions you or Molly. It's all about her work and the places she goes," he continued. "What happened?"

"Sir, I wish I could tell you for sure. I know that there were issues of self-esteem when we were working together. I hoped they would disappear with the pounds when she became fit and healthy. Unfortunately, she didn't believe in herself until this job and all the fame came along. It was the proof to her that she was as beautiful as I told her all along."

"She had a difficult teen-age," Margaret said. "She gained weight and began to obsess about it and then gained more weight. She was very unhappy with herself. She was bright and good in school, but didn't have a social life. She hardly ever had a date in high school. We tried to help her, but nothing worked. You were the only person who actually made a difference."

"I can't take the credit, folks. When Molly and Marilyn came to me for advice, they were ready to do something about their weight. I was just the facilitator. They did all the work. I was a cheerleader for them. I never once needed to lecture them or push them to do the right thing or stick to their diets. They did it because they wanted to and they wanted to succeed. That's what happened," I finished.

"That's not the way Marilyn tells it," Walter smiled. "I got the impression she was infatuated with you."

"I did too," I admitted. "I wanted it to happen, to tell the truth. I promised I wouldn't go near them until the program was finished, but ... that turned out to be my downfall. That gave her the time to find this job and I couldn't compete."

"Well, I'm very disappointed in Marilyn not staying in touch with either her family or you. We brought her up to be better than that," Margaret said emphatically.

"I think the glamour and intensity of her job are probably affecting her. I guess we just have to be patient and see how it all works out," I said in a conciliatory tone.

We got back to the topic of the kitchen renovation and I started to ask them some specific questions about musts and wants and like-to-haves. That hierarchy and their budget would answer a lot of questions early on and I could start to steer them in the right direction.

We spent the rest of the morning together. After going over the various quality options in the range of manufacturers we represented, we moved to my office where we wouldn't be interrupted. I listened to them as I opened my graph paper notebook and began to sketch some ideas as they talked.

The Lee's had come well prepared. They had taken the dimensions and recorded the shape of their existing kitchen, along with the location of the appliances. They were making my job much easier. By lunch time, we had three possible designs that I could prepare on my computer and present estimates for all of them.

I took note of their phone number and address and promised to call them later in the week when I would be able to show them the proposals on my laptop. I could do it at the office or I would meet them in the evening at their home or mine. On Thursday afternoon, I called Mrs. Lee and let her know the presentations were complete, along with printed estimates. We agreed to meet at my home. I think she wanted to see what my kitchen looked like.

Within an hour of their arrival, I had an approved design with very few changes and a contract for the work. We spent the next hour with my showing them the improvements I had made in my bungalow over the years. They began to think about similar renovations to their home once the kitchen was completed.

I offered them a refreshment and Walter and I had a beer while Margaret chose a glass of red wine. We toasted the successful design and then chatted for while. Naturally, the subject of Marilyn wasn't far from any of our thoughts.

"You said you had feelings for Marilyn," Margaret said carefully.

"Yes ... I did ... I still do. There was something about her that ... right from the beginning ... attracted me to her. It's one of those intangibles that I can't describe. It's just a feeling."

"Did she ever tell you how she felt about you?" Walter asked.

"No ... not in so many words. I thought we had something ... but ... it died before it ever developed. The new career popped up unexpectedly and that put an end to whatever we might have had."

"I'm sorry about that, Tory," Margaret said. "I was sure she had a crush on you. I was hoping that she would bring you to our home so that we could meet the man that transformed her into a beautiful woman. She owes you so much." There was emotion in this mother's voice.

I shrugged. I didn't happen and there wasn't much any of us could do about it.

We talked a bit more about their ambitions to modernize their home. It was in a very nice area of town and it was an exceptional piece of property that they didn't want to give up. I agreed to drop over some afternoon for a guided tour when the kitchen was being renovated and we could discuss ideas for making their home even more livable. They made it clear that they wanted to stay in this house for many years to come.

When they left, I saw that it was almost ten o'clock. Too early for bed, but there was nothing on TV that interested me. I opened another beer and sat in my living room, thinking about what might have been. I had never been affected by a woman quite the way Marilyn had affected me. Was it love? We had so little personal private contact that it was hard to believe that it could be. But ... something was there. Certainly something for me.

-0-

My end-of-year bonus was very large. I topped up my retirement plan and there was still some left over for "mad money."

I hadn't taken a vacation in almost two years. Spring wasn't the best time to have chosen, but my boss, Jerry Redekop, could hardly complain and I promised I would catch up when I returned. I booked the first three weeks of May and planned my getaway. I chose Europe. I had never been there and I was intrigued by the architecture and history.

As my plane lifted off from the airport, I remembered that it was this very weekend a year ago that Molly, Marilyn and I celebrated their "graduation." It seemed like a long time ago. I felt sadness at losing almost all contact with Molly, and hearing nothing from Marilyn. I had been a big part of their lives for almost a year, but that was then and this was now.

I had booked a Euro Rail pass for 21 days and took advantage of it as I rolled from France to Germany to Switzerland, then Italy. It was so different from North America I was almost overwhelmed. All the structures that I had read about in text books and had seen on TV were now three-dimensional.

I caught myself wondering what Marilyn would think of Europe. Would she be as dazzled by the history and architecture? Would she be overcome by the opulent interiors of the cathedrals? Would the statues and sarcophagi of famous people, names seen by us only in text books have the emotional impact they were having on me?

I started a journal, making daily entries on my laptop. It was a way to remind myself of what I had seen and where I had been. I was taking many photographs each day in an attempt to capture these amazing scenes. There was so much that I couldn't absorb it all. The rail travel was the opportunity to sit and reflect on what was happening around me.

At night, in my hotel room, I would plan the next day, check the journal to make sure I hadn't missed anything important, download the photos I had taken, recharge the batteries in my digital camera, and then to bed. I would dream of the wonders I was seeing, and often, in the most improbable places, Marilyn would appear.

Despite the rail travel, I was doing a great deal of walking and I was exhausted at the end of each day from the exercise, as well as from trying to absorb everything I was seeing. Perhaps I was attempting to do too much in too short a time, but that was my choice. I had already decided to revisit Europe again; possibly to Spain, or Greece, or the Czech Republic.

When I returned from my vacation, I was both excited and humbled. I was energized by all the new ideas I saw on my travels. Ideas that I could incorporate into my designs. New products that I could introduce to my employer that would make them even more successful. And humbled when I thought of my work compared to what had been accomplished several hundred years earlier by men with only a fraction of the technology we enjoyed.

I brought home a few brochures and logged several bookmarks to websites of the various manufacturers that I encountered along the way. Most of them had English language capability. It would take many hours of review to go through all the possible options, but it gave me a project once I was caught up on my regular work.

Several weeks later I was finally operating on my usual schedule. In the meantime, I had been using my spare time to put together some proposals for my boss, Jerry, on new products for the store. I knew he wasn't enthusiastic about sticking his neck way out, so I suggested we try some hardware items to begin with, just to see how they were received.

Bingo! We succeeded and as each month went by, Jerry began to ask me what I could show him next. We were on a roll and I was enjoying every minute of it. For that matter, so was Jerry.

I wasn't stopping in at the pub after work very often. There was plenty to do at home getting my proposals organized. I was also installing some of the wonderful bathroom and kitchen hardware that we now stocked. A number of the manufacturers were anxious to have us try their products, so I became the guinea pig for some of the items.

Now and then I made time for a pint before going home. Jerry and I had become quite close in the last couple of years. He was very appreciative of my efforts on his behalf, the bonus being living proof. We were sitting in the Pickled Pumpkin late one afternoon. A couple of the weekday regulars had stopped by to say hello and wonder about where I had been. Of course, they also asked about Molly and Marilyn.

Naturally, Jerry was curious. He had been kidding me about my lack of a love life and would needle me regularly by pointing out attractive women that might be girlfriend material. It was all in good fun, but never amounted to anything. He knew nothing about my program with Molly and Marilyn. When the patrons mentioned their names, he was immediately on the attack.

"Ah hah! I knew it. A secret pair of women you've been hiding from me," he smirked.

"Nope. Just a couple of ladies I helped out," I said noncommittally.

"Yeah ... sure." He had the look of a man who didn't believe a word I was telling him.

"Seriously ... ask anyone here. They were a couple of overweight young women who I got to know here at the Pumpkin. They wanted to lose weight, so I put them on the program that I used when I got my weight down."

"Did it work?" he asked.

"Yeah ... too well. I got interested in one of them, but when the program was over she got a job as a model. She was gone in a flash and I haven't seen her since."

"Well, how about that," he said solemnly. "All that effort and she disappears. Doesn't sound fair to me."

"That's how it goes sometimes, Jerry. Just when you think you've found the right one, poof!"

"Yeah ... I guess so. That explains a lot though," he said with a wrinkled smile.

"Oh ... like what?"

"Like why you weren't interested in any of the available women that I've been dangling in front of you in the last year."

"Oh ... yeah ... I suppose I have been kind of mooning around," I admitted.

"Just a bit. You think there's any chance this girl is coming back anytime soon?"

"No ... not really. She's on her way to fame and fortune. I doubt she'll think of me at all."

"Don't be so sure. One of these day's she's going to figure out that none of what she had would have been possible without you. What's her name?"

"Marilyn ... Marilyn Lee."

"Got a picture?"

I paused for a moment and then it hit me. I didn't have a picture. I don't know why, but I didn't. Perhaps some of the girls might have taken some at the graduation party. I waved to our server.

"Laney ... do you know if anyone has any pictures of the party we had for Molly and Marilyn?"

"Sure, Tory. I do. Would you like to see them?"

"Absolutely. I may want to make copies of them too."

"No problem. They're stored on the boss's computer. I'll print some out in a few minutes and bring them to you."

"Thanks, Laney. I really appreciate that."

"I'm anxious to see this girl," Jerry smiled.

"Me too," I said absently. They would be the only tangible memories of that wonderful time.

We continued with some small talk and our drinks until Laney appeared with a brown manila envelope.

"There are about eight that show the girls off, Tory. I printed them on regular paper, but I'll send them to your e-mail address and you can print them on gloss if you like," she explained.

"Great, Laney. Thanks. I can't believe I didn't have any pictures from that day."

"Well, it was pretty hairy around here about then," she laughed. "I'm not surprised."

I opened the unsealed envelope and slid the prints out. They were candid shots and not all of them were great, but I found three that I knew I wanted to print out on photo paper. One showed the two girls laughing at something or someone. They were standing and you could see just how attractive their bodies now were.

Another was a picture of Marilyn and me watching Molly unroll her certificate. We were all seated, and we all had happy expressions. The third, however, brought me up short. It was a picture of Marilyn, in profile, sitting by herself with a quiet, peaceful look about her. It was perfect. I passed it to Jerry.

"Wow ... I can see why you'd be upset. She gorgeous, Tory," he said sincerely.

I nodded. I was surprised at the emotion the picture evoked. Much of it had been suppressed, but her appearance in my dreams and thoughts at random times convinced me she was deeply imbedded in my psyche.

-0-

I was sitting out back after dinner on my new, enlarged sundeck, enjoying the warm spring evening. I guess I must have been dozing because I didn't respond to the phone when it rang. When I realized what the sound was, I jumped up and dashed to the kitchen. I checked the screen to make sure it wasn't a telemarketer and noticed a local number, but no name. I decided to let it go to voicemail.

It took about five seconds to recognize the voice as Molly's and I picked up as she began to leave her message.

"Hi Molly ... good to hear from you," I said brightly.

"Oh ... Hi Tory, it's been a long time," she said in her usual upbeat tone.

"Are you still here in town?"

"Uh, no. I live in Seattle now. I'm just here visiting my parents. I thought I'd give you a call."

"I'm glad you did. We haven't talked in a long time. What's going on in your life?"

"Actually, I'm engaged," she said happily.

"Wonderful. Who's the lucky guy?"

"Uhmmm ... he works for Boeing ... in Seattle. His name is Grant Larkin. We've been going out for a few months. He's a great guy, Tory. You'd like him. He's a lot like you, in a way."

"I'm happy for you, Molly. I knew you'd find the right guy some day," I said sincerely.

We chatted for a few minutes, catching up on each other's life when the subject of Marilyn came up.

"Have you seen or heard from Marilyn lately," I asked.

"No ... not for months. I saw her the last time she was in Seattle, after Christmas. I only got to talk to her for a few minutes. She was in a hurry to get somewhere." I detected a hint of disappointment in her voice.

"How is she?" I dared.

"I don't know, Tory. Something ... something was off ... you know. Not something I could see, but ... she didn't seem as happy as I remembered her. Maybe it was just the hassle and all the hard work. She did tell me she was working harder than she ever imagined she could. She looked great, Tory. She looked fabulous, to tell the truth."

"I'm glad. I hope she's happy. I'd hate to think she went through all that and not be satisfied," I said.

"She hasn't called you at all?"

"Nope. Not a word. No cards, even. I guess I'm yesterday's news."

"Why wouldn't she call? If I see her, I'm going to give her a piece of my mind. It's the least she could do is stay in touch. She owes you that much," she said indignantly.

"Don't worry about it, Molly. I'm doing fine and I'm sure she's very busy. I know I'll hear from her one of these days." I wished I could convince myself of that.

We talked for a few minutes more and then said our goodbyes before hanging up. It was good to hear her happy voice and I was pleased she found "Mr. Right." I promised her I would be at the wedding in June. It would be just a little over two years since we finished the fitness program. I know Molly kept to her routine and it sounded like Marilyn did as well. After all, her job depended on it, I reasoned.

Two months later, I found myself in a very warm church in Seattle with several dozen other people, none of whom I knew. I had never met Molly's parents nor did I recognize any of her bridesmaids. I assumed they were all local and not from our hometown. The groom was a good-looking guy, fairly tall with sandy-blonde hair and a lean build. He looked pretty fit, I thought.

Molly looked dazzling. Her satin-white wedding dress emphasized her fabulous body and she was all smiles as her father walked her down the aisle. Molly wasn't a weeper and I got the impression she just wanted to get this formality over with so she and her new hubby could party. I was looking forward to the reception. It might turn out to be very entertaining.

I searched the assembled crowd in the church for any sign of Marilyn, but she wasn't there. I was disappointed. I'm not sure I didn't come to Seattle just on the hope that I would see her again. On the other hand, I wouldn't want to disappoint Molly. She was loyal, keeping in touch with me. I owed her this at least.

The reception was held in a nice hall not far from Boeing Field. I walked into the hall and immediately was assailed by the music. The band had already begun for some of the early arrivals and those who may have skipped the church service. The food was out and I moved toward the big table, not having eaten since breakfast at my motel. It was a magnificent spread and I overindulged, of course.

The bride and groom arrived, and after the cutting of the cake, the obligatory toasts, speeches and reading of congratulatory messages, a reception line was formed and we all queued up to pass on more good wishes to the bride and groom.

I mingled with some of the other guests, picking up an interesting conversation or two along the way. It seemed the principal interest of most guests was to determine on which side of the spectrum I fell – bride or groom. After a while, I began to alternate my answers just for the fun of it. I was either Molly's teacher or Grant's classmate. I like a little bit of confusion now and then.

I got a chance to chat with Grant before he and Molly left for their honeymoon in Hawaii. In fact, he sought me out after Molly told him who I was and why he should be grateful to me. He seemed like a great guy, with a good job and excellent future prospects. I got the sense that he was head-over-heels in love with Molly and that was fine with me.

I was beginning to think about leaving when I spotted her. I stopped dead in my tracks as I saw her come through the door and head directly to Molly. Marilyn was as beautiful as I remembered her. If anything, she seemed a bit slimmer than when I last saw her, but that was over two years ago. People change.

I began to move in her direction but decided not to interrupt her conversation with Molly and Grant. It seemed very animated and I thought I saw an unhappy look on Molly's face for a moment. As I got closer, Molly spotted me and said something to Marilyn. She turned and then saw me. I couldn't tell what kind of look crossed her face at that point. It didn't seem to be joy or even surprise. I continued to walk toward her.

"Hello, Tory," she said, gazing at me with a cautious expression.

"Hello, Marilyn. Good to see you after all this time. Glad you came," I said evenly.

"I'm late. I seem to be late a lot these days," she moaned with a frown.

"Are you still living in Chicago?"

"Yes ... for now." Her eyes were cast downward, the way I remembered seeing her look so many times before. It was a shy, uncomfortable Marilyn in front of me.

"How are you? Are you well? Are you enjoying your job?" I asked, knowing I just wanted to keep the conversation going.

"I'm OK. Busy ... very busy. They keep me running steadily, so I don't have a lot of time to dwell on it. The job is ... great. They pay me a silly amount, so it's worth the effort."

She sounded and looked tired. The makeup around her eyes, once so beautiful and naturally perfect, couldn't hide the dark circles. As I looked more carefully, I could see her angular cheekbones were now more prominent. I thought she looked slimmer when I first saw her and up close I was sure I was right. She looked ... harder.

"Are you just here for the day?" I asked.

"I'm staying over at the Marriot tonight and then I've got a flight back to Chicago tomorrow noon.

"Do you have time to have dinner with me? I'm staying over too," I said.

She looked at me with what appeared to be a sad expression before a slight smile appeared.

"Sure. I can do that."

"Why don't we meet at the Marriot?" I suggested. "There's a nice restaurant next door. I'll make a reservation. Is seven OK?"

"Seven's fine. But ... do you have to rush off now?" she asked with a plaintive note.

"No ... no ... I thought ... maybe you'd want to mingle ... or something?" I said, surprised.

"No ... I don't know anyone here except Molly, her parents, and you. I'd like to find somewhere we can go that's quiet and we can relax and sit for a while. I want to talk to you. It's been so long, Tory," she said sorrowfully.

I could see the beginnings of tears forming. I took her hand and smiled at her.

"I'd love to. We've got a lot of catching up to do."

That brightened her up. I swept two glasses of champagne from a passing waiter and offered her one. We sipped, looking into each other's eyes and clinked glasses.

"The last time we saw each other we were doing this," I reminded her.

"Those were happy times, Tory. I sometimes wish..." She didn't complete the thought.

Molly spotted us together and was dragging Grant with her.

"I'm so glad you both came," she gushed. My two best friends in the whole world ... except for a certain gentleman who shall remain nameless," she giggled as she kissed Grant's cheek.

"Wouldn't have missed it for the world," I said, now quite honestly.

"Have you shown Grant the before and after pictures yet?" Marilyn teased. Her mood was suddenly upbeat.

"No ... and don't you dare. You'll scare the life out of him. I just told him that we were a little overweight and Tory fixed all that," she gasped. Grant was smiling. I suspected he knew the whole story. Molly was too proud of her accomplishment to keep it a secret.

"But you," Molly said pointedly at Marilyn. "You look positively gaunt. What's with that?"

"Oh ... you know ... just the pressure of work. On the go all the time. It helps keep me thin," she tried.

Molly looked at me with a disapproving scowl before turning back to her friend.

"Come on, Molly," Grant said with a firm voice. "We've got a plane to catch in a few hours and you need to toss the bouquet and get changed."

"Yes, dear. See ... he's ordering me around already and we've only been married a couple of hours," she said in mock disgust.

We all chuckled before hugging and shaking hands. Marilyn and I stood holding hands as Molly tossed the bouquet over her shoulder. The last we saw of them was their waves as they paraded out the door. I turned to Marilyn and smiled.

"There we are. Molly is now Mrs. Grant Larkin. One down, one to go," I cracked.

Marilyn turned to me and gave me the strangest look, but said nothing. I wondered if I'd said something to upset her, but I couldn't tell.

"Come on, let's go find a place to sit and talk. I want to hear all about your glamorous life," I said brightly. I took her hand, knowing now she arrived by cab, and led her to my car.

"You have a new car?" she exclaimed.

"Yes ... a present to myself for a job well done," I laughed.

I held the door for her as she slipped into the passenger seat. It was only a ten minute drive to the Marriot on a sunny, June afternoon. The Mariners weren't in town, so traffic was fairly light. We arrived and walked from the parking garage to the elevators. I was about to push the button to the lobby when Marilyn pushed the fifteenth floor button. She turned to me.

"It's more private in my room. There's a bar and a sitting area. We can relax. We can even call room service," she said with that once familiar faint smile.

"Fine." I certainly wasn't going to argue. At last, I would have my private time with her. Something I wanted for a long, long while. I needed to deal with the ghost of Marilyn Lee somehow and this was my best opportunity.

Her room was a suite, with a separate bedroom and two bathrooms. Marilyn had certainly come up in the world.

"Would you like something from the mini bar or should I order room service?" she asked.

"Mini bar, if it has a beer," I said.

"Help yourself, Tory. I'm just going to go change. Take your jacket and tie off. Be comfortable," she said with some authority. She slipped into the bedroom, closing the door behind her.

I was nervous. I didn't know what to expect. This was a different Marilyn than the woman I came to know and had fallen for. Her behavior was sometimes predictable and sometimes not. One moment she was serious and almost on the point of tears and the next she was happy and upbeat. Something was wrong or different or ... what?

I wandered about the large sitting room until I heard the bedroom door open and Marilyn reappeared. She was wearing a brilliant red and black kimono. It was very elegant and suited her perfectly. It displayed her Asian heritage dramatically. She was covered from neck to ankle and yet I could still make out the natural curves of her body. She was barefoot, just as I remembered her from that last evening we were together. I sighed in regret as I thought of what might have been.