Chapter 4

We made several more excursions in Toy, including a great weekend of fishing at the mouth of the Columbia, out of Hammond. Toy handled the ocean with the same aplomb she handled the river and was a handy vessel even on the Columbia bar, which is notorious for its rough water.

Leah, little wise ass that she is, caught more salmon then anybody else. I finally made her run the boat, so there'd be some fish left for the rest of us. For two days, we had a boat limit by noon, so we spent an afternoon at Fort Stevens and headed home early the second day. The Sommersets had joined us and we felt that over 40 salmon—mostly silvers, but 5 were Chinooks—was plenty for the winter. (We smoked half of them. Marvelous!)

Of course, our phone calls to the twins included a lot of good-natured teasing about them missing the fun. They pointed out that spring break coincided with the spring Chinook run and they expected to use the boat—we'd be welcome to come along. (They'd spent several hours researching that, so they could get back at us. But they were excited about bringing some fresh salmon back to their apartment in California. We took pity on them and sent them some fish, packed in dry ice, by FedEx.)

For Thanksgiving, we did something unique. Frank loaned us their motor-home and we drove down to spend the holiday with the twins. It was wonderful, though the Thanksgiving meal was in a restaurant. Every time we see them, the twins are more a settled, married couple. They are very happy and very, very much in love—not at all blasé—which makes us thrilled for them.

While we had the motor home, the Sommersets, with Ben and Beth, spent Thanksgiving on Toy.

That was really different. Any of the kids could handle Toy with confidence, but the Sommersets were pretty klutzy on the boat. So the kids ran things! From the reports we got later, everybody had a great time. They'd arranged rooms and their Thanksgiving meal at the Columbia Gorge Hotel. They ran up to Hood River easily on a rainy day, enjoying every minute of it. The hotel picked them up at the moorage when they called. They celebrated a romantic evening in that grand old hotel. On Friday, they cruised back home.

Arvid spent Thanksgiving with Jim and Marty and their family. Both their kids, and enormous loads of dirty laundry, had come home for the break.

Looking at their older daughter, he thought he saw something he recognized. She seemed... familiar, somehow. But he couldn't make the connection.

Like a loose tooth, it nagged at him until, just as Marty was serving the pumpkin pie, it dawned on him. Marty's daughter reminded him of Flo!

Flo! He hadn't thought of her in years. In fact, she'd dropped out of his mind about the time his car reached Seattle, all those years ago. He hoped all had gone OK for her. But, boy was she stupid, to think that she could tie him down by getting knocked up.

He conveniently forgot that he'd promised to marry her before she let him into her pants at all.

He wondered if she'd really been pregnant...

If she was, he had a child someplace...

That fanciful rumination came crashing back over him like a wave on a beach. HE HAD A CHILD SOMEPLACE! In honesty, he knew that Flo would not have lied about something like that.

Arvid Thorgesson had a mission: Find out what had happened to Flo and his child.

His plant was enjoying a 4-day weekend, but Arvid tracked down his boss and told him he wouldn't be in next week. When he got huffy, Arvid just said, "Look. I need the week off. You can give me the time off, or I'll quit. It doesn't matter to me, either way." Since he was critical to the success of their current 'on time delivery' campaign, Arvid got the time he wanted.

Then he ran smack into a fact of life—this was the busiest travel weekend of the year! He couldn't get a flight to Oregon until Tuesday, at the earliest.

Monday, he went to work, and found time to chat with his boss. "I just found out that I might have a kid up in Oregon. An old girlfriend ... You know."

The boss, well aware of how broken he was still about the loss of his family, said, "Take the time you need. Just let me know if it's going to be more than a week."

When he arrived in Portland, Arvid drove to the old neighborhood. In the drugstore, he asked if Flo lived in the area. No one in the store knew her. He struck out everywhere he asked. He tried the school, but the entire staff was new since Flo had been there and no one had ever heard of her. Flo's parents were long dead and Arvid couldn't find a lead to her anywhere. He concluded that she'd left the area soon after he had.

Stymied, Arvid returned to California and his apartment and job.

He couldn't just let it drop. A couple of weeks later, he talked with a supervisor in the local office of Pinkerton's detective agency. He wasn't given much hope, but they said they could at least find out when Flo had left the Portland area—or if she'd married, they might be able to find out her married name and where she lived.

Arvid was warned to expect a long and expensive investigation.

Christmas that year was a pleasant family holiday. The twins pulled in early Thursday morning—it was still dark out. Even though they'd tried to be quiet, the muffler on their car needed a bit of work. So Rachael and I got up to welcome them home with big hugs, and hot chocolate. They'd driven straight through from Berkeley—they wanted to be HOME. We all went to bed. Later that morning, Leah and I unloaded their car while they were still asleep. It was mostly dirty laundry, anyway.

It approached noon before we knew they'd waked up. They were celebrating being in their own bed at home. Sara made sure we all knew about it—she'd become a 'screamer'. Sam wore an insufferably smug look at lunch.

Christmas Day, Frank and Margie joined us, because our house is much larger. (Ben and Beth were together—they didn't care where.)

For presents, we gave each kid a new, state of the art, notebook computer. We knew the twins needed another computer, since they'd frequently hinted about how one was always needing to finish a project for a class when the other had their machine tied up. This way, they each had a good machine, small enough to take to class and take notes on the spot. While I was shopping for them, I found that there was a really great discount for corporate purchases of six or more machines. So we figured, 'What the hell?' and bought them for the younger kids, too. Of course that includes Beth.

It was nice. Sara and Beth cried! The boys glowed. When she discovered the built-in, high-speed modem, Leah demanded, "Wow, mom! Daddy Al, can I get my own phone line and internet account?"

"No. Absolutely not! ... But it was a good try, honey," I told her.

Actually, I bought seven of them. Rachael and I needed portable computers, too!

By prior agreement between Rachael and Margie, we didn't get presents for the Sommersets, nor they for us. They exchanged their gifts at our party, though, and they had a present for Ben.

The kids got me the usual assortment—socks and ties, CDs and some new software. Rachael surprised me with a voucher for a European vacation. (We had fun. I won't bore you with details. For a while, I thought all I'd see of Vienna was the hotel room ... Rachael said that romantic city made her horny.)

Ben surprised us all.

When Beth opened her present from him, the package contained a smaller package, more ornately wrapped than the outer one. Inside that was another. By now, we were all chuckling at Ben's effort. Opening the smallest package, Beth found an engagement ring. Laughing, crying, wailing her joy, Beth threw her arms around his neck, and smothered him with kisses—to loud applause from the rest of us.

When she calmed down, just a bit, she shyly smiled at her lover and asked, "Would you put it on me?"

Tenderly, Ben slid the ring on her finger, and kissed her...

Her sixteenth birthday was a couple of months away, but Ben didn't see any point in waiting any longer. He wanted the whole world to know how much he loves this beautiful girl. And, after all, she'd given him her body in the midst of the family—he felt he'd rather give her his ring with everybody there.

Beth is always kind of starry-eyed when Ben's around. But I don't think her feet touched the ground for the rest of that day. She was very pleased with her Christmas present!

"Ben!" I said, "topping my Christmas present to Beth is OK. But don't you think this is a little extreme?" They both thought that was very funny.

Beth, with a twinkle in her eye, quietly said, "I guess I can admit that I've kissed Ben, now."

It was a little hard getting to sleep that night. There was a lot of noise coming from Ben's room until early morning. When they finally showed up, both obviously worn out and sated—we were just sitting down to lunch—Sara asked, "Ben, did you catch the pig?"

"What pig?"

"Why, the one you were chasing around your room all night. Everybody heard it squealing!"

Beth blushed beet red.

Then Leah piped up, "I don't know about a pig. But I know they were hiding a sausage somewhere."

While we were all enjoying a good laugh at that, Rachael asked from the stove, "Do you want sandwiches? I'll fix sausage and eggs if you'd prefer?"

Beth answered, "I'll take a sandwich, please. I don't think I want to eat sausage today." Coming from her, it was quite a joke and we responded with more appreciative laughter.

All too soon, the holidays were over and the twins returned to California.

In Los Angeles, Arvid Thorgesson read the report from the detective firm. He learned that Flo had died in a hospital in Portland just over a year after he'd left the area. And he assumed she hadn't married, since she was still using her maiden name.

They hadn't found anything about a child.

Arvid insisted that they keep looking.

Ben and Leah were back to the grind of high school and all their activities. Ben was a runner, doing cross-country in the fall and middle distances on the track team in the spring. He studied hard in the winter.

All three, including Beth, took up skiing for winter recreation. Ben was old enough and a careful driver, so on many weekends they'd take off in Rachael's van with a couple of other friends—usually two or three boys Leah had on the leash—and head for the mountain ski areas. Rachael and I went once. (I fell down. It was cold and wet. End of skiing for me.)

Beth didn't like team sports, but enjoyed golf, skiing and tennis and became very good. She has superior coordination. Watching her move on a tennis court was pure joy. More than once, she's won a point off me because I was too busy watching her and not paying attention to the game.

Leah, still growing, had played basketball and softball. But this year she decided that, while she'd play softball, she wanted to be a cheerleader. Looking into it, she was told that girls who had not been cheerleaders before went on a 'junior varsity' cheerleading squad. Leah wanted to be on the 'first team' or not at all.

Cheerleaders were elected by the student body at their school, so Leah just filed her candidacy for one of the varsity cheerleading positions. She certainly had the face and figure for it. And she'd accumulated an astounding number of boys who either had dated her or wanted to. She spent three afternoons and evenings, with Beth helping her, calling all the boys she knew and asking for their support.

Beth spoke with some of her friends, too. She was quiet, but her friends listened when she said something.

Leah won in a walk. When the votes were counted, she'd not only been elected to the squad, she was head cheerleader! (The election worked that way: the student with the most votes was head cheerleader. Leah didn't want the responsibility, so she declined that honor in favor of a senior girl—which made her some friends among the girls and didn't take up quite so much of her time.)

She looked fantastic in her cheerleader costumes! And had more boys than ever calling or coming over.

All three kids got excellent grades, in difficult classes. Beth was pure 'straight A', with Ben taking an occasional 'A-'. While Beth was very bright, she worked hard too, and earned her grades. Ben was more into sports and other activities, and studied as hard as he did only because Beth pushed him.

Leah was straight 'A' too, but with a different approach. Leah was pure intellect and only worked as hard as she absolutely had to. In some classes, she earned an 'A', but never opened the book all year. In the couple of 'honors' classes where she had to work, she was so stimulated it usually seemed like play to her.

Rachael and I kept tabs on their progress, but stayed in the background. We were pleased with our overachiever offspring.

We found that we were spending more and more time with the Sommersets.

This was natural, since they were our age and not only knew us well, but shared their daughter and our son with us. Living just down the street helped, too.

One or two evenings a week, we might be at their house for dinner or a card game, or they could be at ours. Unless they were out on a date or made some other arrangements, the kids always joined us for dinner, wherever dinner was that night. It was our main time together and we really wanted to know what they were doing and feeling about things.

Being young and very much in love, Ben and Beth were always together once Ben's team practice was over for the day. They ate together, studied together—often with Leah—and slept together. (They would learn the need for individual 'space' as they matured. And they would learn that, secure in their love, the other was always present, even when they were physically separated.)

Ben did something really stupid. After a party with 'the guys' that involved a keg of beer, he drove home. Or he tried to. He was very lucky. A cop spotted him within two blocks and pulled him over.

Another way he was lucky; the cop recognized him and knew that he was a top student and one of the 'good' kids in town. Knowing full well that every boy that age experiments with alcohol, he just locked up Ben's car and brought Ben home.

At our request, the officer conducted a full 'field sobriety test' on Ben, right in our living room. He blew a 0.11 on the balloon, too—Ben wasn't so drunk he didn't know what was going on—and his humiliation was complete when we videotaped the whole thing. Rachael even got him throwing up before he went to bed.

Rachael tucked him in while I went with the policeman to Ben's car, which I'd drive home. We both thanked the officer profusely for his understanding and help. We really appreciated his attitude and the way he'd handled the situation. In the patrol car, he told me, with a small smile, "Sometimes, something like this can wake a kid up. Ben's a good boy. He just screwed up this time. I've done my part and I hope what I did tonight will keep us from having to spend any more time on Ben in the future. Now it's up to you." With my thanks again, he left me to drive home.

On the way, I noticed a light at the Sommersets'—in Beth's room. So when I got home, I called her number. The way the phone was answered immediately, I knew Beth was expecting a call. She wasn't expecting me to be on the line, though.

"Hi, Beth. I saw your light and suspected you were waiting for a call. Ben's here, asleep. But he's in trouble—with us. If you want to come over in the morning, we'll feed you breakfast and you can hear all about it. Or, if you just can't wait, Rachael and I will be up for a while. You can join the discussion if you'd like." Beth said she'd be there in ten minutes. She made it in six—she said she'd taken a minute to leave her mom a note.

We looked at the videotape. It was a pretty humiliating thing. Beth got really angry, watching it. "I told him not to go to that party. But he spends so much time with me, and he really wanted to go with the guys just this once, so I gave in. I knew they would have beer there. That bunch always does—their girls know and tell the rest of us. I told him, if he had anything to drink, to call me when he was ready to leave and I'd come get him. That pig-headed dork! He was just too macho to listen. He could handle it! Suuurrrree he could!"

This was a long speech for Beth. She was really mad!

Obviously, Ben would have to be punished—to make this a learning experience, if for no other reason. So we talked about what would be appropriate. We decided to 'ground' him for a week—including next weekend, when there was a game and dance at the school. And he and Beth would sleep in their own beds ... Beth's idea. Beth could come over after school and stay for dinner, but she'd go home every night. With a tight little smile, she said, "I'll punish him plenty—but without getting him mad at me. That should make him see the light!"

In the morning, when Ben appeared with a throbbing head and a sheepish look on his face—he hadn't been so drunk he forgot what had happened—Rachael fed him. Corn flakes and coffee. She knew his stomach wouldn't be interested in bacon and eggs. Ben finally looked at her. "Well? How much trouble am I in?"

"What do you think? This family is based on love and trust. You've abused our trust. We know you'll drink a bit, now and then. But we've told you to call and we'd come get you. You know we don't want you driving if you drink. We trusted you to be responsible. You weren't.

"How do you think that makes us feel?" Rachael continued, warming to the task. "If, every time you go out the door after dark, we don't know if the next time we see you, it might be with a cop bringing you home? Or a call to come to the hospital and identify your body? Think about it—like you obviously didn't think last night! How would you feel if, every time I walked out the door, you wouldn't know, for sure, if you'd see me alive and whole again? Then put Beth in that scenario ... And then think—it is all preventable!

"That's the most damnable, frustrating, frightening thing about alcohol—it is all preventable! All you have to do is pick up the phone and call us. Don't drink and then drive, or ride with someone who has been drinking. Why is that too much to ask of you?!!"