Chapter 6: Happy New Year

"So what did Santa Claus bring you for Christmas?" Marion asked as we settled down Christmas Day.

"Ah, good question. I'll save the answer for later. I don't want to make Al cry."

That got a reaction from my boss. "What could you get that would upset me?" he asked suspiciously. He could probably tell that I wasn't serious.

"I'll bring it over this afternoon. Right now I'm just going to enjoy some of Marion's egg nog."

"He's doing this on purpose," Al said to Marion. "He's just trying to get my goat."

"And it's working," Marion laughed. "Don't look at me, Al. I don't know what it is either."

By two o'clock, I figured I had tortured Al enough and excused myself to go to my house and extract my present. When I walked in the Goshulak front door, Al could immediately see what it was.

"You did it!" he exclaimed with a big smile. "You've been drooling over those for the last two months. You finally did it."

I showed the big, flat box to Marion, displaying the eight shiny new Taylor Made irons.

"I decided to treat myself," I admitted. "This hasn't been the best year of my life in a lot of ways, but I'm ready for the New Year. It's going to be much better, I know. I also want to tell you and Marion that the best day of last year was the day you became our neighbours. Regardless of whether I went to work for your company, you are great neighbours and good friends."

"Thank you, Gerry," Marion said quietly. "That's very kind of you. I wish we could have been able to know Helen better, but that was not to be. But you, and Dionne and Mike are like family to us. Who knows," she smiled, "we might actually be family some day in the future."

"Time will tell," I said, smiling at my friends.

"Hmmm," I murmured. "Do you mind if I have a look in your bag?" I asked Al.

He had been keeping it out of my sight by putting the rain cover on his clubs. Since it wasn't raining, or even threatening to rain, I was suspicious.

"Ah hah!" I cackled as I removed the cover. "Now who couldn't resist? Those look suspiciously like the tour version of my clubs."

I extracted a five iron from the bag and looked at the shaft. It was a stiff shaft, special order from the distributor. Custom grips too. Al had big hands and the fatter grip helped him. When you're a six handicap, you can do stuff like that and it makes sense. My clubs were dead standard, aimed at the medium to high handicap player that I was.

"So, what did you get Marion," I snickered.

"New Pings. I knew I couldn't get away with just replacing my clubs. Oh well, it's only money," he said shaking his head.

"Well, neither of us have any excuse not to improve this year," I stated. "We might as well start now."

I pulled out the new driver I had bought in August and teed up my first shot of the New Year. We hadn't played much in the last six weeks, but as luck would have it, my drive was fairly straight and as long as I could expect in the cold, damp air.

Al stepped up and smacked one of his patented low drives down the right side, watching it draw into the right center of the fairway. Exactly where you would want to be to set up your second shot. I envied his ability to control his shots like that. My main ambition was to have it end up on the short grass.

We played as a twosome, and we were done in a little over three-and-a-half hours. It was cold and raw that day and I'm sure that shortened up my backswing. Not a bad thing. I shot a respectable 92, while Al took advantage of the soft greens and shot a very good 77, right on his handicap. We retired to the lounge to have a drink and a sandwich before heading home.

"I have a favour to ask," Al said as we finished our lunch. "Actually, it's a favour for Marion."

He looked a bit sheepish, but I nodded. "What kind of favour?"

"I was wondering if you wouldn't mind joining us next Saturday evening for a dinner dance at the Chamber of Commerce?" he asked haltingly.

"I guess so. Why are you so hesitant? What's the catch?" I asked.

"Well, you would be the escort for Rita McLeod."

"Our Rita ... from the office?"

"Yeah."

"Okay ... I don't have a problem with that. She's a very nice lady and we get along very well. What are you so worried about?" I wondered.

"Well, it hasn't been that long since Helen ... passed, and Rita is coming out of a bad relationship, so I didn't want you ... or her ... to think we were matchmaking or anything." He had stumbled through his explanation. It was completely uncharacteristic for Al.

I started to laugh. "Bullshit! I can see the fine hand of Marion Goshulak working here. Rita's single and I'm single and we're all known to each other, so it only makes sense that we should get together. Am I right?"

He looked embarrassed. "Pretty much."

I continued to laugh quietly at the bald-faced chutzpah of Al's wife. I couldn't bring myself to be upset with her. She would never do anything to hurt anyone, least of all me or Rita. She was just doing some traditional scheming, as all wives are wont to do.

"I could really give Marion a hard time about this you know," I said.

"Please don't," he said, looking slightly alarmed.

"No," I said, still chuckling. "I couldn't do that to her. She means well, Al. I think it's something embedded in women's genes that makes them do things like this. They just feel compelled to try and make two single people into one married couple. They can't help themselves."

Al looked mightily relieved. "Thanks. I thought it was a risky idea, but Marion insisted I talk to you. Since you said okay, she'll talk to Rita. They're kin, so I guess she can make it happen."

"I like Rita, Al. She's a very nice lady and if I didn't have a thing about dating people I work with, I would probably consider asking her for a date in the future."

"I could always fire her," Al grinned.

"Not just yet, okay? We haven't been out together, so let's just see how it goes next Saturday."

"You're being a really good sport about this, Gerry. Thank you."

"Yeah, that's me," I said with a smirk. "A real good sport."

I had no idea when Marion intended to speak to Rita, so I didn't say a word about the dinner dance when we were working together on Monday.

"We're going to have to use a crane to get the large kitchen tops up to the second, third and fourth floors, Rita," I warned, looking at the drawings of an apartment building we were quoting. "We should figure that into the cost."

"How did you know that?" she asked, surprised at my comment.

"Been there, done that, got the red face when I figured out I couldn't do it any other way," I chuckled. "The tops are too big and too heavy and the stairwells are too narrow."

"Nice going, Gerry. No substitute for experience, eh?" she smiled in return.

"Yep," I nodded, giving her a wry smile. "Usually, a big blunder teaches you something."

"That's the benefit of having you here, you know. You've got all that experience and it will help keep us from making expensive mistakes."

"When we draw up the quote, we want to make sure we highlight the need for the crane," I instructed. "That will alert the builders to the problem and then, if a competitive quote doesn't show that factored in, they can question it."

"Do you think another competitor would eat that cost?" she asked.

"I doubt it ... unless they're really inexperienced or reckless," I said. "It will be a few thousand dollars, since I'm certain it can't be completed in one day. Looking at the plans and the area around the building, it will take two or three days, even if all the units are ready to accept the countertops, and that would be very unusual in my experience."