Chapter 6: Sammy gets his reward

Megan was sleeping soundly when I got to the room. When I slid in next to her, I noticed that she'd found one of my T-shirts to wear. The day of travel, meeting my parents and dinner must have been tiring. She was still asleep when I woke up.

Thursday, the first of July, 1993.

Penelope poured a cup of coffee, handed me a note from Suzanne, and asked what I wanted for breakfast. I told her I would wait for Megan.

I was reading the note when Samantha appeared from the other side of the counter.

"Where Megan?"

"Say good morning before you start asking questions," her mother suggested, but the little girl stood her ground, waiting for me to respond.

The note was brief. It stated that Suzanne had left her car for me to drive to the office.

"How old are you?" I asked.

My answering a question with a question confused Samantha, but she begrudgingly held up two fingerers.

"You talk very well for a two year old," I said, and watched her grin at me. I knew she would be three soon. Penelope always said she was a Labor Day baby, but I'd never heard the exact date of birth.

"Where Megan?" Samantha repeated.

"She's sleeping late. Why don't you go up to my room and wake her?"

Samantha was out of the kitchen and running down the hall before Penelope could stop her daughter.

"Not to worry," I said. "The door is closed. She won't be able to reach the knob."

"Don't be so sure," Penelope told me.

I drank the coffee and Penelope asked about the new house. I described the layout, the size of the rooms, and the finish work that needed to be done.

"Will it be finished by Labor Day? John said we would celebrate Samantha's birthday there if the house is ready."

"It better be ready. I'm being sent back to make sure everything works," I said, wondering why Mr. Oldham hadn't told me he'd invited Ned and Penelope to go. Why had Suzanne told me to buy only one bed? I didn't have to wait long for the answer.

"John and Suzanne are going for the week. We're only going for the weekend. Are you still going to be there, Sammy?"

"It's going to be a short trip for me. I'll be back long before Labor Day."

"Do you fly first class?"

Penelope didn't fool me. This was her way of letting me know that she felt slighted. My parents would be flying first class while she and Ned would be in the less expensive seats.

"I've only been in first class once. That was because I was with Mr. Oldham."

"You're just like my husband. Ned accepts any task John gives him. He's like the kid in that skit getting whacked in the ass and saying, 'Thank you, give me another, Sir.'"

"You guys don't have it so bad," I said, recalling how she had taken generous portions of food for her family's dinner the evening before. "I know I don't have any complaints about the way I'm treated. I was pretty pathetic when Ned brought me here eight years ago, and look at me now."

"You even talk like my husband. I told him this is going to be a working vacation. Suzanne wants me to interview the help. Like you, he sees it differently."

I'd never known Penelope to complain before, but I could see her point. It was true that Ned accepted his station in life. He practically worshipped John Oldham. I felt I needed to say something to stem the direction this conversation was taking.

"You and Ned may be overqualified for your positions, but that's what makes you indispensable around here. Ned goes about his business of maintaining the building and grounds. He's also someone I've sought out for advice. Megan was pleasantly surprised to find that you had ironed her dresses yesterday. I told her that you never cease to surprise me with the unexpected things you do for us."

I believe Penelope was going to soften her complaint when her daughter came into the kitchen, triumphantly leading Megan by the hand.

Megan was still wearing my T-shirt, but she'd added a pair of shorts. She wore no makeup and her feet were bare. Her hair had been brushed. In one quick motion, she placed Samantha in my lap, kissed me, and took her seat next to me.

Penelope served orange juice and coffee before taking our breakfast orders. I broke the news to Megan.

"We've been summoned to the office to have lunch and meet some of the investors. Suzanne left her car for us, and told me to dress carefully."

Megan made a face, and Samantha tried to imitate her.

After a light breakfast, consisting of bagels and soft boiled eggs, we went upstairs to check email and make phone calls.

"Sammy," Penelope stopped me at the door. "Thank you for listening to me, and for saying I'm indispensable. I hope you didn't take me seriously."

I told her that I knew she was just letting off steam.

We took our time getting ready. In fact, I had to pry the telephone away from Megan's ear, and practically carry her to the shower. She complained that I was a taskmaster. I told her to get ready or I would leave without her.

Samantha looked adoringly at Megan as we left. "You pretty," she said.

I knew that we were indeed late when I saw the tent at the side of the building. Mr. Oldham was at the podium, addressing the crowd.

"Here they are now. You all know my son, Sammy, but you haven't met the young lady with him. Megan is a friend from school."

The cheers were so overwhelming that I had to put my arm around Megan to steady her. "Hang in there, this won't take long," I said, and watched the blood drain from her face. "You're the most beautiful girl they've ever seen," I added, and saw her smile meekly.

Mr. Oldham called a spokesman for the group of investors to the podium, and guided Megan to a seat on the front row next to Suzanne.

Mr. Herman Osborne shook my hand so vigorously that I forgot I'd never met the man before. The small amount of hair he had was graying, his eyebrows were bushy, but otherwise, he was well groomed and dressed immaculately.

I heard very little of what Mr. Osborne had to say. I concentrated on the way Suzanne was rubbing Megan's back, and acknowledging waves from some of the employees. I recognized Edith Rowell in the front row, and assumed the two men and two women seated near her were also investors.

The hush that came over the crowd sent a shiver up my spine. I turned to the parking lot to see what was drawing everyone's attention, and saw a convertible coming to a stop, not twenty feet away. In the brief moment I had, I saw that it was a new Mercedes. The top was down.

"As a token of our appreciation, Sammy, please accept the keys to your reward for a job well done," Mr. Osborne said as he dropped a set of keys in my hand, shook my hand and hugged me while I was still digesting the words 'token' and 'well done.'

The crowd was on its feet and the roar was deafening. Before I knew it, Edith Rowel was kissing my cheek. Still not understanding the reason for the ceremony or why I was receiving the reward, I put my arm around the frail lady to steady us.

Mrs. Rowel turned to smile at a photographer's camera, and stepped aside to introduce the other investors.

Mrs. Irene Rector was a squatty woman with a round face and a prominent chest. She had tears in her eyes as she congratulated me. I put my arm around her as we smiled for the camera.

Mrs. Cynthia Collingsworth's handshake gave me such a jolt that I hardly noticed the way she had to bend down to take my hand until I realized that I was eye level with her mouth. Her upper lip was turned up, and thick, disproportionate to her thin face. One lower tooth overlapped its neighbor. I didn't understand a word she said. I wished the photographer would point his camera in some other direction.

The large gentleman behind her was Tom Collingsworth. He was big, but an inch shorter than his daughter-in-law. "By God, Sammy, I was aghast at the way John stuck by your warning that the Omaha building was doomed, but I'm damn glad he didn't waver. I can see that today has taken you by surprise. We'll have to get together for a drink soon. I want to hear what made you take a dim view of the building. John never would say."

"I'm not sure I know either, Sir."

He licked his lips, like he didn't know what else to say. "Enjoy the car, young man. You certainly earned it."

We shook hands, and Mr. Collingsworth made room for the man behind him. Mr. Osborne introduced him.

Mr. Raymond Joyce was the youngest member of the group, had a full head of dark hair, and his teeth were even. It was his southern accent that set him apart. In the short time we spoke, I learned that his company occupied space in the company's Atlanta building. He knew that I'd participated in the land acquisition. I didn't get a chance to tell him that I'd been in Atlanta most of the summer of 1991 when construction was underway. He invited me to stop in for a visit the next time I was in Atlanta before saying that he needed to catch a flight to Toronto. He and Mrs. Rector said goodbye to Mr. Oldham and left without staying for lunch.

Mr. Osborne shook my hand again, but he had to get out of the way to make room for the employees who were stampeding to congratulate me.

I shook hands with the men, grinned like an idiot and accepted kisses on the cheek from the ladies for the next fifteen minutes. I soon ran out of things to say, and remembering their names became a chore. Aware that the photographer was snapping more pictures, I tried to stop grinning, but could not.

Wanda was the last person in line. As she lunged at me, I saw another line forming to receive hamburgers from a person manning a grill.

Wanda pulled my head down to whisper in my ear. "I hope you said something nice to my mom for convincing the others to spring for the car."

"I thought it might be her that influenced everyone. I'll be sure and thank her. I hope she didn't have to step on too many toes."

"She only had to step on one set of toes. The others were willing to donate their share."

"Who was it?" I asked.

"I can't tell you that, Sammy."

"Come on, I want you to meet Megan," I said, remembering that Megan did not come to my Friday night party the weekend Wanda visited me at school.

We were cut off by the salesman who had delivered the car before we reached Megan. He wanted to give me a second set of keys and his card in case I had questions later.

We found Megan surrounded by five male employees, all asking how she wanted her hamburger cooked and offering to wait in the serving line. She politely told them that she was not hungry. I pushed my way through the admirers and heard them scatter.

"Why did Suzanne abandon you?" I asked.

"I don't know," Megan said, looking somewhat dazed.

Wanda saw that this was not a good time, and said she was going to get in the serving line.

I looked at where the car was parked, and saw that it had attracted the attention of Megan's admirers.

Suzanne sauntered toward us, eating from a fruit cup. "Did you get something to eat, Sammy?"

"Why did you abandon Megan?" I asked, seething.

Suzanne was taken aback. "I didn't abandon her, did I Megan?"

"Sammy saw some guys talking to me and became jealous," Megan told Suzanne.

"This is your day, Sammy. It's no time to be jealous," Suzanne scolded me. I knew she was right.

"I'm sorry, Suz. It's just that I was keyed up anyway, and when I saw two married guys and the one from human resources that hit on Shirley, I sort of lost it. For all I know, the other two are married."

I took a seat next to Megan, but had to stand every time someone came by to congratulate me. Suzanne went to join Mr. Oldham and four of the investors.

Wanda came back with a hamburger and a large helping of potato salad. I introduced her to Megan.

"I see what you mean, Sammy. She's exactly like I pictured," Wanda said, and Megan told Wanda she matched my description of her, too.

After exchanging pleasantries, Wanda asked if we wanted her to share her hamburger. Megan said she wasn't hungry and I said I was too keyed up to eat anything.

"Sammy became upset that those guys were chatting me up and accused Suzanne of abandoning me. I was enjoying myself and he had to spoil my fun," Megan said, continuing to tease me.

My attention was drawn to the four remaining investors. It suddenly came to me.

"It was her, wasn't it?" I asked Wanda, and could tell by her expression that I was right. She didn't respond and Megan looked puzzled.

"Wanda tells me that all the investors chipped in for the car, but not without a battle. That giraffe was the holdout, wasn't she, Wanda?"

Her eyes darted from Megan to the tall woman, and back to me before saying, "My lips are sealed."

Suzanne was back, minus the fruit cup, and saying that John and the investors wanted to talk to me. Wanda offered to show Megan our office.

"That woman scares me. I can't understand her," I whispered to Suzanne as we walked toward the investors.

"Are you sure it isn't her height that scares you?" Suzanne said and I had to agree that she'd made a good point.

"Be nice to her, Sammy. I hear she's loaded, and I know her father-in-law is filthy rich."

For the next ten minutes, I smiled and answered their questions. Mr. Osborne regretted that Mr. Joyce and Mrs. Rector couldn't stay longer and that the other four members of the group could not be there because of conflicting appointments. "We need to decide which direction we want to take our investment. This may not be the time for distressed buildings. Do you have any ideas, Sammy?"

Hell no, I didn't have any ideas. Didn't he know I'd only been out of school for a month? "No Sir, nothing I would recommend at this time."

"Sammy's being modest. I would like for everyone to read a paper he worked on for extra credit. It's a business plan for a nursing home," Mr. Oldham told the group.

The men expressed a desire to read the paper, but Mrs. Collingsworth scoffed. I believe I understood her to compare nursing homes to wild flowers, springing up everywhere. "What does this boy know about caring for the elderly? Tom, you've seen my collection of nursing home prospectuses. Even some of the chains with unlimited funding are going broke."

The men, including Mr. Oldham, offered no rebuttal, and the matter was dropped. I was glad to take my leave.

I didn't like the woman. I didn't like her haughtiness and I especially didn't like the way she looked down on me from aloft, like she was superior.

I collected Megan and we drove aimlessly in the new car. We didn't head for home until three PM, when we felt hungry. After having a sandwich, we spent the rest of the afternoon lounging near the pool. Megan told me she would like to run the next morning. I took that to mean that she would be 'good to go.'