“His name is Nick LeCrone.”
“LeCrone. What kind of name is that?”
Mom leaned close to Daddy and whispered, but not so softly that Cisney couldn’t make out the words. “Don, I think you’re exasperating Cisney.”
He shifted in his bed. “Forget I asked. Why don’t you tell me about Nick.”
“You’ll meet him soon.”
“All the better you tell me about him now.”
Daddy did his homework before he connected with new clients. But Nick wasn’t his client. Yet, wouldn’t any normal father want to hear about his daughter’s date?
Cisney put her finger to her chin. “Let’s see. Nick is kind, smart, fun, caring—”
“OK, he’s a nice guy. What does he do for a living?”
The time had come for Daddy’s biggest test, if he didn’t want to frustrate his daughter. Could he hold his judgment of Nick in check?
“Nick’s an actuary. An FSA—a Fellow in the Society of Actuaries.”
His face looked as if he’d eaten his least favorite vegetable. He turned a pained look toward Mom. She cocked her eyebrow as if warning him to tread lightly. Daddy sighed and worried a loose thread on his blanket.
“I know a few actuaries. One did well financially. Smart fellow.” Daddy nodded as he focused on toying with the thread. “The guy bought his work clothes at the flea market. I’d see him on different days wearing different plaid shirts with the same checkered pants.” He kept nodding. “He once told me he had a thousand plaid shirts.”
A smile crept across Cisney’s face. She knew actuaries whose behaviors were almost as strange, but they were the exceptions in the growing actuarial profession. “I assure you, Daddy, I’ve never seen Nick wearing checkered pants.”
“That’s encouraging.”
“He’s also a faithful Christian.”
Daddy’s eyes widened slightly. “An actuary, huh?”
Experience told her Daddy meant, “An overt Christian, huh?” OK. So she shouldn’t have smiled about the actuary wearing other men’s shirts, but to imply Nick was substandard was wrong.
She took a breath. “Daddy, that Nick is a Christian is what I like best about him. To me, that’s what makes him wise, honorable, and strong. Nick’s not perfect, but he’s more of a man than any guy I’ve ever dated.”
Daddy looked up at her, and then his gaze darted away. Not the reaction she’d expected.
Mom’s gaze followed Daddy’s line of sight.
Cisney whipped her head around.
Nick stood in the doorway, his hands in his pockets.
16
Cisney sat riveted to the chair next to Daddy’s bed as heat crept up her neck. Nick was early. At what point in her confession to Daddy about Nick’s character had Nick arrived?
Daddy motored the bed to a ninety-degree angle and up to full sitting height. Preparing to do battle with the actuary?
Mom swept shriveled leaves from the bedside table into the trashcan and settled on the end of the bed.
Their perfect-family tableau in place, Cisney made the introductions, and the men shook hands.
Daddy motioned Nick to Mom’s chair. “So, Nick, I hear you’re an actuary.”
Not already. Cisney glowered at Daddy. He ignored her, and crossed his arms over his hospital gown.
In the chair next to her, Nick looked relaxed. How long would that last?
As soon as Nick uttered his yes, Mom jumped in. “Cisney told me you’ve taken a new job in Charlotte.”
Daddy talked over Nick’s response. “What? No one told me that. You’re moving?”
“In two weeks. I took a job with a consulting firm.”
Daddy stared at Cisney as if accusing her of perjury. Then he laughed. “Oh, I see. I wish you the best in your new job, Nick. Charlotte is a great city.”
Daddy didn’t fool her. He thought he had everything figured out. If Nick was moving out of state, either she and Nick weren’t serious, or their interest would eventually dwindle with Nick so far away. Daddy thought he’d still have time to work on her for a better son-in-law.
“Nick’s from the Charlotte area, Daddy. His parents live right on Lake Norman, and the views from their house are fantastic.”
While he kept his big marketer’s smile working, Daddy sent her a puzzled gaze. “How would you know, honey?”
“Nick is the friend I spent Thanksgiving with.” Certainly Daddy wouldn’t carry this protective father routine any further.
Mom laid her hand on Dad’s leg. A warning. “We’ve traveled by Lake Norman on the interstate. It’s huge. Do you fish?”
Nick nodded. “Yes. A favorite pastime of mine.”
Daddy was not about to be ignored. “In your job you give a lot of advice on health insurance risks, is that right, Nick?”
“That’s my job.” Nick smiled at Cisney. Probably recalling how he enjoyed exercising or withholding his actuarial stamp of approval.
“You pull data together, look in the rearview mirror, so to speak, and make recommendations to the VPs, right.”
“Yes, more or less. We look at trends in the economy, the industry, the market, and the company. And you’re right, we pull data from various sources, and with educated assumptions, model the risks.”
“Then from your numbers you make recommendations.” Daddy pronounced the word numbers like it was a dirty word.
“Yes.”
Where was Daddy headed? Why didn’t a nurse come to give him meds or take his vitals? Nurses and aides were always interrupting them. Why not now, when she’d welcome their intrusion?
“That’s very interesting, Nick. Do you ever sit down with the experienced marketing guy or doctor or salesman and find out what his gut tells him recommendations should be? I ask because it seems to me the guy who lives it, breathes it, and has his ear to the ground should be given a lot more credence then some bunch of numbers.” Daddy softened the punch with his friendliest grin. “Just saying, you know.”
“You’re right, Don. Probably twenty-five percent of my day is spent in meetings with company experts or on the phone with outside specialists, picking their brains. Actuaries don’t just push data through models. We want to know what’s happening in the trends we see. That’s when we go to those on the frontline. But we can’t dismiss observed trends on someone’s gut feel. Yet these people can help explain an unexpected trend and help us decide whether it should be universally applied. Actuaries look to you experts to validate the front view and tell us the changes you see coming down the line that would modify trends in our models.”
Daddy opened his mouth, and then closed it.
Mom’s slight nods toward her cheered, He’s perfect.
Cisney bit down on a smile. Daddy had picked a fight, but Nick hadn’t stepped into the ring.
Daddy shifted positions and cleared his throat. “Glad to hear that, Nick. Maybe you can tell me something else. Why is it that so many actuaries, present company excluded, aren’t just a little different, but downright weird? I mean, some actuaries I know, I’m surprised the company lets them out of their cubicles. They make a bad name for the profession. Let me tell you about this one actuary I met. Pretty funny.”
Cisney slid down in her chair and would have kept on going if the gap between the bed and the floor was greater.
****
Nick drew Cisney aside to allow a hospital employee to steer an empty gurney by them in the corridor.
She looked up at him. “I’m sorry some of Daddy’s comments were pushy.”
“It’s OK. Your dad doesn’t intimidate me.”
“I wonder if you’d say that if he hadn’t been restraining himself. His comment about actuaries was out of line, no matter how charming he said it.”
“Which comment was that?”
They headed toward the elevators.
“When he tried to infer actuaries’ formula-based predictions are less dependable than those of professionals who have cultivated a special intuition through their hard-earned e
xperience—like himself, of course. But I guess, considering actuaries’ reputations for oddness, it was better for him to make that dig than asking you to share the weirdest thing you’ve ever done.”
At the elevators, Nick pushed the down button. “His comment is partially valid. Often actuaries are guilty of discounting other professionals’ theories, sometimes for good reason, sometimes from arrogance.”
She smiled and elbowed his ribcage. “I won’t argue with that.”
They entered the elevator. She studied him.
“Why are you staring at me like that?”
“What part of my conversation with Daddy did you hear when you arrived?”
“Ah. You’re curious to know how embarrassed you should be.”
“Something like that.”
“You said, ‘Nick’s not perfect, but he’s more of a man than any guy I’ve ever dated.’ See nothing to be embarrassed about. It’s just the truth.”
“Don’t let it go to your head. I’m simply learning to stand up to Daddy.”
“You were lying?”
She gave him a withering look. “No.”
They stepped off the elevator and walked toward their exit.
Her lips formed a small smile.
“What’re you thinking now?” he said.
Her smile transformed into a full grin. “You stood up to Daddy really well. I admire your style. It’s like you have nothing to prove. I probably shouldn’t tell you what else I was thinking.”
“But you will.”
“I can show restraint.”
“Go ahead. I’m intrigued.”
“Better not.”
“Suit yourself.” He’d give her a count of ten to spill her thought. One, two…
She stopped at the exit. “Well, if you must know, I couldn’t help thinking how Jason always took the opposite viewpoint from Daddy and vice versa. They’d debate like they were vying for the state trophy. Like gladiators, they flexed their muscles and jabbed their spears at each other. I’m sure they both got high on the rush, but I didn’t enjoy the display.”
“But you were OK watching me in the arena?”
“That’s just it. Arguing with you was like Daddy was shadow boxing.”
“He probably missed the rush.”
“Well, I relished the show. And did you see Mom? She almost clapped after your response to Daddy’s story about the weird actuary he’d told us about minutes earlier.” Cisney imitated Nick’s deep voice. “‘You’re right. Some actuaries exhibit odd behaviors that put people off and blind them to the solid track records of most actuaries’ sound advice.’” She chuckled. “Daddy’s face went blank for a split second as if he were determining whether he’d won or lost the point.”
Nick opened the door to the outside for her. “He tells a good story.”
“And you kept up with every sports comment and question he threw at you. You were awesome.”
Tempted as he was to earn hero status in her eyes, he’d forego encouraging the present tack. “I hope you’re not expecting me to become your weapon against your father as you stand up to him. That would smack of whittling another notch in your challenge belt.”
She halted and looked up him, shocked. Had his comment ended their evening before it started? He shouldn’t have said anything, even if he was right.
“I think that’s exactly what I was doing. Not the challenge-belt thing, but in trying to get over seeing him as merely human, I was starting to enjoy watching him squirm. I don’t want to go there. I want to honor my father, who has raised me in love, even if he does exasperate me now and then.”
They wove their way through parked cars to his car. He couldn’t have asked for a better answer. Commuting between Richmond and Charlotte sounded better the more he got to know this woman.
He opened the sedan’s passenger door. “Are you ready for something different?”
Would she enjoy what he’d planned for the evening, or would she hightail it back to her father, lauding his assessment of actuaries?
****
Cisney had two questions left in playing Twenty Questions to get Nick to reveal where they were going. She’d ruled out a movie, a play, bowling, indoor putt-putt golf, and going for ice cream.
She could do this. “Is it something you think I’ve never done before?”
“Yes.” He looked over at her. “You better make your last question a good one.”
If she couldn’t win the game, at least she could elicit his dimple. “We’re going to a bar to get drunk?”
He laughed.
A win. Whether he’d agree or not.
Nick looked over at her. “By the way, Mom got your thank-you note. She said that receiving a real snail-mail thank-you card was rare. She told me to tell you she loved it.”
“I did learn a few things from my mom.”
Nick turned the car into the Chesterfield Towne Center parking lot.
They were going shopping? If he wanted her to help him Christmas shop, she’d gladly assist him, but he should have told her up front, instead of letting her think he could be imaginative.
He parked and sat back. “You’re quiet all of a sudden.”
“I’m trying to think what we could do here besides shop.”
He opened his door. “We’re not shopping, but we could if you’d rather.”
Anticipation crept back in. “No. Unless you were planning to shop for bungee cords, I’m fine on everything else.”
“Good. I have to warn you, though. You may think shopping more exciting.” He retrieved a tan leather bag from the backseat.
If he didn’t tell her soon, she’d explode. She got out and met him at the back of his car and eyed his bag. What could they be doing that was BYOS—bring-your-own-something? He probably wouldn’t tell her if she asked.
They entered the mall through the food court doors. Several tables formed the perimeter of a large square, replacing the normal arrangement of tables. Inside the square, a man with a black beard, dressed in a gray turtleneck, black sports coat, and grey corduroy trousers, leaned against a table. He conversed with a bald man sitting in one of the chairs that lined only the outside edges of the square. Did this have something to do with their evening?
Other men, a few youth, and one woman roamed the area, toting boxes or bags similar to Nick’s. People coming into the food court from outdoors and from inside the mall stopped and watched the milling box-and-bag people.
Phil from Actuarial came through the doors and headed toward them, carrying his own black pouch. His eyes widened when he saw her with Nick.
“Hi.” Phil stepped aside and grasped the arm of the tiny woman who’d followed him. “Nick, Cisney, this is my wife, Natalie.”
Doe-eyed Natalie stuck out her hand to Cisney. “It will be nice to have someone to stand with.”
Stand with her to do what? Cisney smiled and shook Natalie’s hand. “Nice to meet you, Natalie.”
The top of Natalie’s head barely reached Phil’s armpit. How did they have engaging conversations while they walked together? Maybe that’s why Natalie followed Phil in. What was the point of her keeping up with his long-legged strides when they’d have to yell at each other to be heard?
The box-and-bag people moved closer to the tables, pulled out chairs, and unloaded their bags.
Chessmen?
Cisney gasped. This cliché was not happening. Wasn’t Nick different from the Phil-type actuaries of the world? She raised her gaze to Nick.
He gave her a sheepish grin. “Welcome to the annual simultaneous chess exhibition, in which our chess club members are pitted against a National Master.” He indicated the bearded man caged inside the square.
Wouldn’t it take hours and hours for that one man to play all those participants? Where were bungee cords on sale? “How fun.”
Nick laughed. “Every muscle in your face says you’re—let’s say, fibbing.”
Natalie’s doe eyes brightened. “It is fun. Paul was fourth to the las
t eliminated last year. I thought I’d pass out holding my breath.”
Yeah, sounded as much fun as holding her breath watching trees grow. If she’d known the plan, she’d have worn her orthopedics to stand with Natalie, instead of her high-heeled boots. “Won’t the mall close before the master plays all those people?”
The three chuckled.
Nick took Cisney’s hand and drew her closer to the square, where plastic checkerboards stuck to the tables like cellophane. He laid his leather bag next to a chessboard. “The master plays all of us at the same time. After we make our first moves, he walks around the square and makes his initial move at each chessboard. We have until he returns to make our next move, unless we take a pass.”
“Oh.” That sounded better, but they’d still be there a long time while the master thought out each of his…she counted the males and added the one woman…each of his twenty-four moves.
Phil folded his long body into the chair next to Nick and arranged his pieces on his board. Natalie squeezed Phil’s shoulder, and then backed to stand a few feet behind his chair.
Still standing, Nick set up his chessboard. He turned from his task and looked at Cisney. “Have you ever played chess?”
“Daddy taught me the basic moves, but he gave up teaching me strategy when I fell asleep a couple of times during games.”
Nick straightened. “I guess I blew it. You can wander the mall if you like.”
“No. I’ll stay.”
He pulled out his chair and sat.
Feeling like a traitor for not squeezing his shoulder like a chess groupie, she stepped back to join Natalie.
A heavyset man near the tables signaled the participants to make their first moves. Barely pausing at each board, the master strode around the inside perimeter, playing black chess pieces in a snatch-and-plant manner. The players jotted notes on papers next to their boards. Logging their moves?
“Wow, that was fast,” Cisney whispered to Natalie.
“Opening moves are usually a no-brainer, especially for a national master.”
Cisney craned her neck to see Nick’s next move. He lifted his knight and placed it on a white square.
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