Chapter 2: Carrying On

It was more than three months since he had lost Veronica. Three months of turmoil. First the grieving, then, a month ago, the revelation of her affair with someone in her office. What was his name? Collingwood ... Collingworth? He had come to understand why the police were interested in him. He would have motive if he knew of her affair. It put an end to his inward grieving.

Veronica's parents were distraught, of course. Losing their eldest daughter had been very traumatic and they had yet to recover from the shock. Tom sensed that they blamed him for the accident and he felt their withdrawal from him over the past weeks. His only support came from Veronica's younger sister, Connie. She had always been a close friend, having had a crush on Tom when she was a teenager. She was seven years younger than her sister, but now, at thirty-three, was a bright, self-reliant young woman running her own successful interior design business.

Tom's mother was upset at Veronica's death, but not to the extent Tom might have expected. She had accepted the accident as just that, a tragic unforeseen event. It was the second time they had lost a family member. Tom's father had died six years ago on a business trip to China. He had been robbed and murdered near his hotel in Shanghai. The three men were quickly captured, tried, convicted, and executed. It had been little consolation to Marion Lynch or Tom, their only child, or to Tom's family.

At the young age of thirty-two, Tom Lynch had become president and CEO of Lynchpin Plastics. Now, with the death of Veronica, his mother transferred all her affection to him and her grandsons, believing they needed her support and love. Tom had yet to decide what to do about his future. The twins, Vern and Tony, were in their final year high school. Vern was writing for an academic scholarship to a local university, while Tony planned to take plastics technology at the nearby technical college. Tony saw himself as his father's natural partner at Lynchpin.

The two boys had seemed to be handling their mother's death more easily than their father. Tom had told no one about his wife's infidelity or the police interview, and saw no reason to reveal what he had been told. They had held a memorial service for Veronica three weeks after her disappearance. A plaque was placed at a shady site in a park near her parents' home after a small service for the immediate family, conducted by their local minister. That small gesture was well received by her father, but Veronica's mother was still distant and cool toward Tom. Only her grandsons felt her love and sorrow.

Connie had developed the habit of dropping in on Tom on the weekends, knowing he hadn't touched the sailboat since the accident. She tried to encourage him to get out, taking her or the boys or both along with him, but he steadfastly declined. He wondered aloud if he should sell the Lynchpin Lady, but the boys and Connie had raised such a fuss against doing it that he let the subject drop. And so it sat, forty-six feet of fibreglass and teak, rocking gently at its dock in Fisherman's Cove.

Tom was thankful to have his business. It needed attention and that took his mind off Veronica and his other problems. Lynchpin Plastics specialized in rigid plastic containers made of PET: Polyethylene Terephthalate. It was commonly found in soft drink, juice, and water bottles, but now was being used as an almost universal substitute for glass as well as metal can.

Tom's father had recognized early on that the soft drink and water business was far too competitive for a local medium-sized converter like Lynchpin, so he looked in other directions. Pharmaceuticals, cosmetics, specialty food products, and other segmented market opportunities were the targets, and the company had thrived on his foresight. Tom had simply followed on in his father's footsteps, keeping his sights on the markets that they could fit into profitably.

Tom had hired an old friend and classmate at college to be his sales manager. Brian Edgar was the same age as Tom, 40, and was married with two children, Shania, 11, and Ronnie, 9. His wife, Virginia, was also an old classmate from college. They had started their family a good deal later than Tom and Veronica, but were devoted parents and good friends.

Brian and Tom were on the same wavelength when it came to their strategy for the business. They worked closely together to seek out new opportunities and new products. If his father could have seen him now, he would have been immensely proud of Tom and where he had taken Lynchpin.

Even though Tom hadn't set foot on the Lynchpin Lady since the accident, his refuge was still the yacht club. To be specific, the club dining room and bar. He was well known and well liked around the club. His father had served as Commodore for two terms and Tom was expected to follow in his footsteps. The dramatic and tragic events during the Southern Straits race had put a hold on that. Just the same, he felt comfortable in these surroundings and often had the boys join him for dinner.

It was a Friday evening in mid-July after another long week at the plant when Tom stopped in at the club. He had invited the boys to meet him there, but Tony had plans with his current girlfriend, so only Vern would be joining him. He'd been there about a half hour, nursing a scotch and soda when he saw Vern enter the dining room. He had a visitor with him as well. Connie Fairly was following closely behind.

"Hi Dad, I didn't think you'd mind if Aunt Connie joined us since Tony couldn't make it."

"Tom, will you please tell your son not to refer to me as Aunt Connie. It's making me feel old," she said petulantly.

"Vern, you should respect your aunt's wishes."

"So ... I should just call her Connie?" he asked carefully.

"Sure ... or Babe ... or Hot Stuff," Tom cracked.

The laughter by the three of them was contagious. It was the first time Tom could remember laughing in quite a while.

"Don't you dare, Vernon Lynch," she said, poking him in the chest with her finger. "You may call me Connie or Ms. Fairly in more formal surroundings."

Vern shrugged, looked at his father and grinned. There hadn't been very many light moments for any of them in the last three months.

Friday night was fish and seafood night in the dining room, and each of them chose a different entrée. The food was always prepared and presented well and that evening was no exception. The conversation was light and upbeat until the dessert tray was wheeled to the table.

Connie and Tom declined, but Vern chose a New York cheesecake that was large enough for all three of them. Their waiter saw the reaction and promptly presented three forks with a smile.

"I've got to stop eating here," Tom said, leaning back in his chair. "I'll weigh three hundred pounds if I don't.

"Nonsense," Connie said immediately. "You're still the hunk you were when you were dating my sister."

"Ooooohhhh," Vern said with a smirk. "Guess who's got the hots for Dad?"

"Careful, young man," Tom said seriously. "You are on dangerous ground. This is family, not one of your teenage bull sessions."

"Don't get all bent out of shape, Tom. Vern didn't mean anything by it ... did you Vern?"

"Ah ... no ... sure ... I didn't mean to upset you, Dad." He looked genuinely concerned.