DRIVING MISS DAISY–Part 5 of 5

>>>>>>

I closed the office early the Wednesday before Thanksgiving. The house had been completely cleaned and Sara and I had bought everything the weekend prior. I’d have two pounds of jumbo shrimp and a variety of raw vegetables in addition to chips with onion dip and nuts as snacks before dinner. Mom had agreed to come over around ten that morning to help with the meal. I had cleaned and rinsed the twenty-pound turkey on Tuesday night, saving the heart and liver for the soup I planned to make on Friday morning.

Sara and I drove into the village for bacon and egg sandwiches at the deli early Thanksgiving morning then we set to cutting the vegetables and making the dip, setting out bowls of nuts and chips and peeling all of the potatoes we would need to boil for mashing later in the day.

Mom arrived, bringing Dad who promptly sat down in the living room to watch the Macy’s Parade on TV. I loved my father, but he was essentially useless in a situation like this—better if he could just stay out of our way. Mom had brought her sensational stuffing in addition to some traditional Gotti family treats, like the creamed onions that I loved. I stuffed the bird and covered it with strips of thick bacon to keep the meat moist before placing the heavy load into one of the two ovens in my stove. The remaining stuffing went into a ceramic bowl for baking later then Mom and Sara made a small tray of candied sweet potatoes.

Sara and Natalie arrived at two and I could see immediately that our parents would get along famously. That was only magnified when they learned that we were trying to become pregnant. I actually saw my father cry. To this day I still don’t know how the subject was breeched, but all of a sudden the room was deathly silent and a second later there was hysteria. Cara hugged me first then Natalie took a turn, followed almost immediately by my mom who would have hugged me sooner had she not been hugging Sara at the time. I broke the spell by bringing out the tray of shrimp.

We ate dinner at five sitting around the large table in the formal dining room. My house was big in almost every regard—five good-sized bedrooms , three full baths, an eat-in kitchen and a large dining room to supplement the living room that had two couches—one a sectional–and three chairs in addition to the fireplace and large flat screen TV.

We took turns before eating telling each other what we were thankful for. There were the usual—my dad’s health, new job for Natalie, potential grandchildren for both sets of parents. Not surprisingly, I went last. “I think that mostly I’m thankful that I have a secretary who loves me enough to trick me into a relationship with her sister and, of course, I’m thankful that the relationship between Sara and me has worked out so well. I had lost hope and trust and found it again almost overnight. So, now I think we should be quiet and eat.” And that’s exactly what we did. Well, we did eat, but there was plenty of lively conversation, especially about the future heirs. All we had to do now was deliver.

It was after dinner that Natalie told us about her meeting with Sheldon Mayer and how she had trapped the prime asshole who had been her supervisor. “Shelly gave me a miniature recorder to keep in my pocket. Our lunch kept me away from the office much longer than allowed so I did hear from Jonathan when I returned.

He really let me have it, but unknown to him I was recording the entire conversation. He threatened to have me fired if I didn’t come across. I asked him how many times he had tried to force me into sex with him. The fool admitted that he had been after me from the first time he had come into the office. It went on and on and it was all on tape. So, as instructed by Shelly, I told him I’d do it tomorrow, but only if he was able to get a room at the Smithtown Sheraton. He told me he’d be there and how much better I would be than his ‘fat slob of a wife.’ Those were his exact words.

“I took the rest of the afternoon off after gathering my few personal belongings. Of course, I never showed at the hotel and, following Shelly’s instructions I never returned to the job. Instead, Shelly showed up, insisting on speaking with Mr. Barnes—the agency’s owner. He told me that he was in the office for more than an hour and when he left he had a check for $100,000 to avoid a messy lawsuit and possible criminal prosecution. Jonathan was fired that same day and my friends there have told me that his wife was livid when she heard his remarks. She’s thrown him to the curb…just what he deserved. When Shelly delivered my check I asked him what his fee was. I was really surprised when he said he’d like to take me to dinner and that was all. I thought about the great time I’d had at lunch so I agreed. I’m seeing him again tomorrow night. You were right, John. Shelly is an extremely interesting man.”

I thought that was great. Shelly Mayer was a great guy who was married to his job. He was even a bigger nerd than I was, but he could be funny as hell and he was a real gentleman. I hadn’t hoped for any connection between Natalie and Shelly when I suggested that she meet with him, but maybe I had been able to get two birds with but a single stone.

The rest of the day was just as great. We set the table again around nine for turkey sandwiches and pie. Mom had really outdone herself by baking apple and pumpkin pies, and making a chocolate cream, too. That had always been my favorite so I had two pieces. We bid everyone good night around eleven and I knew that I was blushing terribly when Natalie told us, “Be sure to practice a lot. We really want that grandbaby you’re going to make.” Mom and Dad laughed like hell and after a few seconds Sara and I joined them, but my face still showed my extreme embarrassment. Once everyone had gone Sara pulled me up the stairs, stripping my clothes with every step. We followed directions very carefully—several times, in fact.


>>>>>>

I interviewed twenty candidates over the next week with the help of Simon who had been with me from the beginning. I tendered offers to eighteen, rejecting the other two despite their excellent qualifications. One was an arrogant ass, just what I didn’t need in a business where my techs would interact with customers every hour of every day. The other reject was absolutely brilliant, but had virtually no communication skills. He would be better off in a position where he interacted with computers instead of people. I’d known two like him while in graduate school.

In spite of my busy schedule, Sara and I used Wednesday morning to drive into the village of Northport to get our marriage license and, hopefully, speak to the magistrate about marrying us. Getting the license was a breeze, but we learned that the magistrate only worked part-time. However, the clerk told us the magistrate’s name and where his office was located. We were there less than ten minutes later.

I held the door for Sara and we entered the lawyer’s office hand-in-hand. Stepping up to the receptionist’s desk I asked to speak with Mr. Osborne. “Do you have an appointment,” she asked.

“No, but we’d really appreciate if we could speak with him. I doubt we’ll need more than five minutes.” She spoke on the phone for just a minute that asked us to follow her to a conference room.

A minute later a short portly man entered and greeted us. “Good morning, I’m Wiley Osborne. How can I help you?”

“I’ve read on the internet that magistrates can perform marriages in New York State. We’d like very much if you could marry us at my home on December 9th. Of course, I’d be willing to pay you for your time. Would a thousand be sufficient?”

“Let me see if I understand you correctly. You’re willing to pay me a thousand dollars for what will probably be ten to fifteen minutes work?”

“Yes, of course you’ll have travel time to the end of Bluff Road.”

“You know, I usually charge $70 for marriages performed in Village Hall.”

“Yes, but my best man is coming in from Boston the day before because he has to work. He’s an instructor at Tufts University and he has two classes Friday morning. He doesn’t have tenure so he can’t risk cancelling them. I’m having Peter Luger cater a late lunch and you and your wife are welcome to join us if you wish.”

“What time did you have in mind?”

“We were hoping for 10:30 or 11:00. I’d pay you in cash that morning.”

“It’s a deal. Would you mind telephoning my secretary the day before as a reminder? I’ll put it into my calendar, but I sometimes forget.” He gave me his card. One glance and it was burned into my memory. We thanked Mr. Osborne and walked out into a beautiful November day. I drove Sara home where we kissed before I turned around on my way to the office.

Simon and I finished the interviews the following Thursday afternoon and within the next two months I’d have thirty-five new techs assigned to my new office in Arlington, Virginia. They’d be on the job in the Pentagon once they had completed their month of training and the federal government’s vetting program. The thirty-sixth–one Calvin Wilson–would report to work here. Calvin, an Afro-American, was an interesting interview. After the initial test in which I asked each candidate to crack into my laptop, something that was absolutely impossible, I asked about his run-in with the law when he was thirteen.

“Simple; I was a know-it-all punk. I got involved with this gang and I thought it was the coolest thing. They sent me to pick up a few drugs from some ‘supplier.’ Fortunately, he turned out to be an undercover cop. Rather than take me in to the station he took me to the Boys and Girls Club and sat me down in front of a computer. I knew about computers, of course, but I had never actually used one. I grew up with my grandma and we were poor as dirt. My school had a computer lab, but I never saw anyone in it. I think they were concerned with vandalism or theft.

“Anyway, that was the first time I ever sat at a computer. Like most kids I started by playing games, but then I got curious. I wanted to know how the computer worked. Detective Cooley arranged for me to audit a course at the local community college. I loved it. Not only did I do well in that course, but I started to do really well in my regular school work, too. I ditched the gang and became a real student instead. The rest, as they say, is history. I got a full scholarship to University of Chicago. I still see Detective Cooley. He saved my life and he’s become one of my best friends.” I already knew that. I’d gotten the story straight from Cooley’s mouth. He called it his greatest triumph. I thought he was absolutely right. I offered Calvin a job on the spot. He would be able to start in less than a month once he had been able to relocate his grandmother to Long Island.


>>>>>>

In some ways Sara could be extremely progressive. Our sex life was an open book and she was both imaginative and energetic. She always wanted to try new things, new positions—some of which were potentially dangerous. Yet, in other matters she could be very old-fashioned. That’s why I never saw her wedding outfit. I had offered to buy her an expensive gown. I could afford the best, after all. But Sara turned me down cold. “What a colossal waste of money. Why don’t you donate it to some worthy charity?” I wrote a check for $10,000 to the Salvation Army.

The other thing that got me was that Sara was moving out the night before the wedding. I didn’t understand why, but she said it was bad luck to see the bride before the ceremony. I shook my head several times, but agreed when she told me how much she would look forward to our first night as husband and wife. “Just think how badly I’ll miss you tonight and how much I’ll want you tomorrow night.”

So it was that I kissed Sara good-bye of Friday afternoon when I got home from my haircut and manicure appointments. I waved as Cara drove her away, already missing the love of my life. With a sigh I climbed into my Highlander and drove to the Islip-MacArthur Airport where I met Rob and his date, Allison. She explained that she was a grad student in math at Harvard and that she and Rob had met at some social that had been organized by Pi Mu Epsilon, the national mathematics honor society. “We talked about our work for a while and somehow the subject turned to how math was involved in computer programming. Then Rob told me how he had roomed with a programming genius. Of course, I assumed he was exaggerating, but when I looked you up on Google I was amazed. Rob also told me about your ‘girlfriend,’ Daisy and her mother. Wow, what a total bitch! Anyway, Rob and I have been seeing each other for a while and when he asked me if I’d like to meet you I jumped at the chance.”

“Thanks for the compliments, but I’m just an ordinary guy who’s been extremely lucky.” I spent the next ten minutes explaining how I met Sara when I thought she was Cara and the expression on my face the following morning when I found myself between the two of them. Allison roared with laughter. That stopped when I pulled into my driveway.

“This is some house, John. Holy cow!”

“I should tell you, Allison that Rob is a dyed-in-the-wool Yankee fan and he’s always quoting either Phil Rizzuto or Yogi Berra.”

“I know,” she giggled. I’ve learned the hard way. Can you show us the house when we go in?” That’s exactly what I did, first showing them to a bedroom that was as far away from our bedroom as possible. I finished the tour by showing them the view from the back yard. They washed up and I took them out for dinner—nothing fancy, that would come tomorrow when the catering crew from Peter Luger arrived around eleven, shortly after my dream came true.

We had just begun to split a sausage pizza when Allison asked what Sara was like. I thought for a minute before responding. “Well, to start with, she’s nothing like Daisy. Daisy is controlling, Sara goes with the flow. She’s easy to get along with and she wants nothing for herself. Physically, she’s tall and slender. She played volleyball and ran track in high school and at Suffolk Community College wrapped around three years in the U.S. Army. You’ve already heard how she’s Cara’s identical twin. She works now as a medical imaging specialist, but not for much longer. We both want a family right away.”

“If I know you, John that means lots of practicing.”

“Yeah—tough work, but someone’s got to do it. I’m sure you’ll like her. We had Thanksgiving here with her mom and my parents. They’re looking forward to seeing you again, Rob. Sara’s mom is coming to work for me. I’m expanding so rapidly that I can barely believe it.”

We finished our dinner and I drove them back to the house where we watched a Friday night football game. We had been there about thirty minutes when my phone rang. I knew without looking that it was Sara. She was calling to make sure that Rob and Allison had arrived and to tell me how much she missed me. She asked to speak with Rob and then Allison and I could tell from their smiles that they were getting along well with my bride. Finally, Allison returned the phone to me. I wasn’t at all ashamed to tell Sara in a loud voice how much I loved her. We turned in around ten, knowing that we would have to get up early tomorrow morning.

I was up at six and was joined by Rob and Allison half an hour later. I drove them into the village for bacon and egg sandwiches at the deli. We sat in the park at the same bench that Sara and I had frequented in the past. It was a relatively mild day for early December. I had just taken a bite of my sandwich when I realized that I had first met Daisy exactly two years earlier. Rob laughed when I mentioned it. “I knew then that it was a big day for you, John. I just never guessed how big. I wonder what she’s doing now.”

“I haven’t a clue although her father tells me that she’s living in Bay Shore. That’s a medium-sized town about fifteen miles from here on the south shore. Sara works there at Good Samaritan Hospital. Fortunately, there are almost one point five million people in Suffolk County so the chances of running into her are slim and then there’s the restraining order I had my lawyer get after her last phone call. She screamed and claimed that I had something to do with the theft of her mother’s money.”

“That reminds me—didn’t I see on CNN that she had been arrested for some income tax scheme? I wonder how she acquired the computer skills to move all that money around.”

“Knowing her, she probably cuckolded her poor husband to convince some sap to do it for her. She’s still a good looking woman. Unfortunately, she’s also rotten to the core.” Allison laughed, but Rob knew I had spoken the truth. We finished our breakfast and were back at the house well before nine—plenty of time to shower, shave, and dress before the ceremony.

I had just finished with my tie and given my cordovan loafers a final shine with a silicone-treated cloth when I walked to my home office to open my safe. Inside were our rings, custom-made by my jeweler friend Sam. I had tried mine on for size, but Sara had refused, claiming some kind of jinx if she did. I closed the safe and walked downstairs to find Rob pacing in the hallway.

“Don’t tell me you’re nervous, Rob.”

“I have to admit I am a little, John. Allison has been making comments about how nice it would be for us to live together, you know, as a trial for marriage.”

“So…would that be so bad? She’s an extremely attractive woman and it’s pretty obvious that she’s in love with you. God; she hangs on every word out of your mouth. Let’s face it, buddy—you’re a mathematician. How interesting is that?”

“Very funny; when should people start to arrive?”

“Soon, I hope. The village magistrate and his wife should be here around ten—any minute now–my parents and godparents, too. I have a limo bringing Sara, Cara, and their mom. I’m hoping that we’ll get everything started by 10:30. I have refreshments for everyone until the caterers arrive at eleven.”

We chatted for a few minutes before we were joined by Allison. I had to admit that she was a very attractive woman—not quite as tall as Sara and Cara, but a bit heavier and curvier—especially in the chest. While Sara and Cara were B-cups I guessed that Allison was at least a C. Despite society’s fascination with breasts I knew that it was what’s inside that really counted. I had a feeling that Allison had plenty there, too.

Rob answered the doorbell when it rang, escorting Magistrate Osborne and his wife, Sally. We made small talk and I surreptitiously passed an envelope with exactly ten crisp portraits of Benjamin Franklin inside.