Chapter 1: Advice is Abundant

January 1, 1994 8:33 AM

"Sammy, I'm not waking you, am I?"

I laughed. "It's great to hear your voice. I was going to call you later."

"Adam's sleeping it off, and I wanted to talk to you."

"Sounds like you partied last night."

"You remember Orlando Laredo from school. He invited all the C.M.A. and Speedwell kids who are going to school here. There's quite a group of us. His apartment was crowded. Everyone asked about you."

Orlando Laredo was my room leader when I was a junior. "He was a year ahead of me. Is he attending grad school?"

"Yeah, law, I think. He and Adam had a good time comparing notes."

"Who else was there?"

"Josh and Jeannie, Eddie and Celia, a guy named Spear. He was alone."

"Rodney Spear? He's in Boston?" I asked, remembering Spear from my senior year when I'd traded to get him to be my assistant so I could get rid of Spencer.

"Everyone wished you'd been here. Jeannie was talking about going to that ice cream shop with you last week."

"Yeah, I was getting ready to go to Denver."

"Guess who else was there?"

"Come on, Marcie, you know I can't guess."

"Gloria Remington, she really, really wanted to know everything about you."

"Gloria Remington? She's not still in school, is she?"

"No, she's working someplace in town. She's with Orlando."

"You mean ... with ... as in cohabiting? I don't believe it. Did she say what happened between her and Spence?"

"All she said about Spencer is that Orlando is a giant step up. They seem happy. Like I said though, she monopolized me, asking for information about you."

"I'll bet she did. What did you tell her?" I asked, remembering that day so long ago in the center cottage. Gloria was Spencer's girl. I'd just witnessed Cindy holding her tits as he slammed into her from behind. At first, Gloria resisted my advances. She screamed and fought me as I carried her into the other bedroom, but once I got her into position, and she saw that there was no escape, she settled down and enjoyed me slamming into her from behind the same way I'd seen her boyfriend slam into my girlfriend.

The next time we danced together, she asked if we could do it again. I told her no. I would never forgive Cindy, but I'd taken her back. We remained together through the rest of the school year and summer, until she left for college.

"I told her you are busy. She asked if you are with anyone, but I didn't tell her about Megan breaking it off or about Cynthia and you. I hope that's okay?"

"No problem. You were right by not saying anything about Megan."

"What did you do last night?"

I laughed. "I just missed being in the air when the year turned over. Cynthia picked me up at the airport, drove me to her house, and told me to close the garage door when I left."

"My God, Sammy, how did you let that happen?"

"Kelley had something to do with it. Cynthia accused me of lying about my age and a few other things. Once she gets something in her head, it's impossible to reason with her. She thinks she knows me, but I told her she doesn't know me at all."

"You're right about that. I don't believe there is anyone that knows you completely."

"You know everything about me. I don't hide anything from you."

Marcie was quiet, like she was thinking. "You should update your list and offer to tell her about all the girls on it."

"What good would that do?"

"It would give you a chance to show her that you're not a bad guy. I'll bet the ones that you're still friends with outnumber the ones that no longer speak to you."

"Like Gloria Remington? We're not exactly on speaking terms."

"No, but you could be. Gloria is like so many more that I can name. She holds no malice toward you. Didn't you say that Shirley was receptive when you consulted her about some research she had done?"

"I see what you mean. Megan sent a Christmas card and her note was signed, 'Love, Megan, ' She sent a check to reimburse me for her plane ticket to fly home. I guess you could say that we're on speaking terms."

"Alice came to your party and Jeannie was there, too. Let's go through your list and count how many you're still close with."

"I can name them, but I assure you that the ones that wouldn't talk to me if I called them outnumber the ones that would."

"I think you're wrong. Add up the three Baldwin sisters, the two landscapers and those two girls from Charlie's home town. That's seven that would talk to you, and then there's Charlie's mom..."

"I'm not so sure about Cindy Baldwin. I didn't attend her wedding. Anyway, telling Cynthia how adorable I am to past lovers would mean nothing to her. Kelley has her convinced that I'm a liar."

"Ah ha!" Marcie exclaimed. "That's the ticket. You've got to convince Kelley that you're not a liar."

"That's not possible. Kelley was technically correct about a couple of things she told Cynthia about me. I inflated my age by a few months, and she was right about my dumping Adeline when I hooked up with Megan. What Kelley didn't tell Cynthia were my reasons for dumping her. The only way she would admit that she cheated with the photographer would be for me to pretend that it never happened."

"Would that be so hard?"

As I considered her question, I decided it would not be hard at all. "No, but it wouldn't help me reach my objective of making Cynthia believe me. She's got it in her head that I slept with the woman I was negotiating with in Denver."

"Oh, my," Marcie sighed.

"It's not just her speech that is hard to understand. It's her reasoning, too. Before I left we talked about the possibility that I might have to nail the woman to make the deal. Cynthia said she was okay with it, even if it was not necessary to close the deal. After she heard Kelley tell her how rotten I am, she became convinced that I'd taken Sandra Lynch to bed and that I was lying about it."

"What's going to happen now?"

"It's hard to say. She once told me that she would not treat me badly again, even if I left her for someone younger. I wish I knew what to expect because she has the power and influence to bring me to my knees. I may be forced to have a word with Kelley. I can see it now; she'd like nothing better than to watch me grovel."

"The next time I see you in person, we'll talk," Marcie said, a sign that we were nearing the end of the conversation.

"I'd like that."

"The master is calling. I've got to go. Love ya."

"I love you, too," I said, and heard the dial tone.

As I stepped into the shower, I thought of Marcie's suggestion that I show Cynthia my list of the girls and women I'd bedded. I didn't see where it would prove anything if I told her which ones I was still on speaking terms with. There were several, like Kelley, that would deny that they remembered me, but given the chance, they would hop in bed with me again in a second. Admittedly, there were others, like Karen Parker, who didn't want anything to do with me.

As I was stepping into sweatpants, I noticed Jessica Langley's business card on my desk. Why was I leaving it in such a conspicuous place? I picked it up with the intention of putting it out of sight when I noticed a phone number on the back of the card. Was it her home number and had she written it down for me, expecting me to call her? I left the card on my desk and went downstairs.

John and Suzanne were excited to hear how I'd managed to make the deal on the Denver building without dipping into the investors' funds. We had taken the building over by assuming responsibility for the outstanding mortgage and the real estate taxes.

I told them that the Lynch brothers sent their sister to the negotiating table, probably thinking they would take advantage her feminine charms.

"She excused herself about every hour and went to another office to call her brothers. She would come charging back, like it was the second half and she had just heard her coach give a rousing speech. Each time, she would return with a small concession, such as a reduction in the amount of cash her side needed. However, the concession would be offset by a new demand. It took me two days to learn how to combat her style of negotiating. I excused myself, went down on the street, bought a newspaper and sat in a coffee shop for two hours. When I got back to the office, Sandra was fuming."

John and Suzanne laughed, patted me on the back, and he told me that he was going to propose to the investors that I be appointed manager of the Denver building. "The job will include retrofit, finding viable tenants and keeping the investors informed as to the status of your progress. Does that sound like something you want to take on, Son?"

Gee, I had assumed it would be my job to manage the building all along. Had I overstepped my bounds by telling Neill that he'd be moving to Denver? Would Cynthia Collingsworth and the other investors be watching my every move? "Absolutely!" I said, making my answer sound as upbeat as possible.

What I didn't tell them was how Sandra had tried to play me, first by inviting me to join her for dinner at her hotel, then trying to lure me to her room. I knew they were down to the wire, and all I had to do was hold out until the last day of the year. When we finally closed the deal at five-thirty PM on Friday, she asked to borrow money to pay her hotel bill.

I went with her to her hotel, produced my credit card, and signed my name.

"Thank you very much, Sammy. You've been a gentleman the past few days. May I treat you to a drink in the bar?" she asked.

I needed to go to my hotel, pack, and make flight arrangements, but I saw no harm in having a drink with her.

The hotel bar was a noisy place. It was obvious that most of the crowd was getting an early start on celebrating the New Year. I doubted if any of them were guests of the hotel, although some of them might get a room if they felt lucky. Sandy ordered a daiquiri. I settled for a beer, and when the drinks came, I offered to pay the check.

"Not yet, Sammy, we may want a second," she said, and I told myself it would do no harm to have another drink before we said goodbye.

Sandy downed her daiquiri and was ready for another before I drank half of my beer. "What do you have planned for this evening?" she asked as she watched me signal to the waitress.

"I'm hoping to catch a flight and be home before the clock strikes 1994," I said.

"It sounds like you have an important reason to get home," she said.

"Yes, I do," I said, thinking of Cynthia's willingness to pick me up at the airport, no matter what time my flight landed.

"Happy New Year, Sammy, maybe we'll meet again when you're not so anxious to get home."

"Happy New Year, Sandy," I said, and went back to my hotel to find that the next flight was not until nine PM. I could still make it in time to celebrate the New Year with Cynthia, but after having her cavalierly dismiss me, I wished I'd stayed in Denver.

The rest of the weekend passed slowly. I'm sure that John and Suzanne thought it strange that I was at loose ends, staying in my room, reading, or taking long walks around the neighborhood. I was anxious to return to the office and begin my new job.

After his weekly staff meeting, John showed me the memo he was sending to the investors requesting their approval to appoint me manager of the Denver building. In addition to applauding my most recent accomplishments, there was flowery language describing my plans to transform the vacant building into a model for the future.

Wanda and I worked on my first report to the investors while we waited for the votes to be returned. It was the second day before we learned that nine investors had responded, all voting in favor of my being named 'point man.' Only Cynthia Collingsworth's ballot had not been returned.

I noted that it was Wednesday, January the fifth, six months to the day since I'd seen Megan Freeman.

That evening, I had a call from Heather, wanting to know where her money was. After several questions, asking her why she'd waited until the fifth of the month to contact me, and if Andy had won an event, she confessed that she didn't know where he was. She said she almost knew that he'd gotten a stake from someone else, a wealthy female that followed the rodeo circuit.

"Heather, I'll send you some money, but you've got to get a job and take care of your son."

"How much?" she asked, without committing to do as I'd said.

"You'll see how much it is when the check arrives. In the meantime, get a job," I said, and hung up when I heard her complain that I wasn't being fair. I sent her check to my mother with instructions for her to give it to my sister after her first day on the new job. I assumed she'd go back to the café where she'd been a waitress, off and on, ever since she'd dropped out of high school.

I made it a habit to tour the first floor space with Daniel McDonald each day after the construction crew left. On Thursday, the third day of construction, there was still not much to see in the way of progress. Chalk lines on the floor showed where the partitions were to be built, and some building materials had been delivered.

"By this time next week, the studs will be up and the guys will be installing drywall," Daniel assured me.

The door to the lobby swung open and Wanda thanked the security guard for letting her into the space. She waved a single sheet of paper at me.

"Mrs. Collingsworth approved your appointment," she said, an air of triumph in her voice.

The message was brief: 'Mr. Oldham, I fully support you naming Sammy to guide our interests in the Denver building.' It was signed, CC.

I tried to hide the relief that I felt wash over my body. It was like the time I woke up cold and my mother was covering me with a warm blanket. Like the warm blanket was confirming my mother's love and concern, Cynthia was keeping her word not to treat me badly.