Tall, with dark blonde hair styled short and deep brown eyes, Rod’s mother was what many considered “handsome.” She possessed a slim figure which she worked on constantly, attending aerobic and swimming classes religiously.
Emily was nearly as proud of Andy Webster as she was of her own son, having long ago come to consider Andy a very real and significant part of her family. When Tony died, the importance of Andy had become immeasurable to Emily, who used the boy as a transference mechanism. It took her almost a year to stop calling Andy “Tony,” so deep was her shock and grief. The boy had never once corrected her, accepting his role willingly, a mission of love.
She had attended weekly sessions with a psychiatrist for several months, trying desperately to save her sanity. When she finally determined that the doctor was using nothing more than voodoo therapy on her, she abandoned the sessions, vowing never to go back to that type of witch-doctor medicine. In the end, it was the constant company and support by Rod and Andy that pulled her out of the near fatal depression.
Sometimes, especially late at night, she would walk around the house by herself, thinking about her dead boy, planning his future, visiting his bedroom, oftentimes lying in Tony’s bed and talking to her lost boy. She knew these moments were probably unhealthy, that she should continue moving forward. But she refused to let go entirely of her baby. Invariably, following these periods of depression, she would seek out her remaining son and his friend, spending as much time as possible with them until her sanity returned. She realized that she was often teetering on the edge, but slowly, very slowly she was making progress.
Now, with the two boys going away to college, she was scared for herself, afraid that she wasn’t ready to be left alone, left with her memories. But there was no way she would ever attempt to prevent her son from achieving the greatness she felt he was destined for. She would put on a happy smile, go to the party, and bid her oldest child and his best friend a happy and fond farewell.
After that, she would try to hang on, praying for a miracle to relieve her of the pain.
The Golden Boy’s farewell party was hosted by Mary Jane Webster, with as little help from Emily Littleton as possible. It was scheduled at the Evergreen Country Club where the Webster’s had been members for more than fifteen years. The party was originally planned for the two families, an end-of-summer dinner before the boys left for school. Andy had spent six weeks at the beginning of the summer at the Naval Academy, learning among other things how to sail aboard a clipper ship. He was scheduled to return to Annapolis in eight days to begin his plebe year, the beginning of his career in the military. He would be playing football, but had already decided that if his grades suffered, he would drop sports and concentrate on his studies.
Rod was to report to Bloomington five days before Andy’s scheduled departure. He was anxious to begin football practice. The Indiana coach had already projected Rod as a possible starter at free safety, a position that had not garnered him the attention during high school that wide receiver had, but a spot he felt he was dominant at. If he could play defense in college, he felt there would be no limits on how far he could go. He felt extremely confident that he could contribute to the IU program during his freshman year.
The guest list had grown almost immediately, thanks to Mary Jane. She couldn’t resist inviting several club members to drop by. Then, since it was turning into a party rather than a dinner, Mary Jane called Emily to ask if there was anyone she would like invited, and the floodgates opened. The boy’s coaches were invited; the sports writer Nardiello would be there, most of the boy’s teammates and families, and several teachers from Tower. And if luck held, Radford’s mayor was going to stop by for a drink.
The future of the Golden Boys appeared to be running on all cylinders, success all but guaranteed for these exceptional boys. Mary Jane was determined that they have the type of sendoff that they deserved, no matter how much it embarrassed them.
6
“Did your mom invite any girls from Margaret’s?” Rod asked as he opened the door to his black Camaro, a graduation gift from his parents. They had finally traded in his beat-to-hell red Firebird, a car he had driven throughout high school. He slid behind the wheel as Andy got into the passenger seat, snapping the seat belt tight around himself.
“God, I hope so. If I know our mothers, they invited every big shot in Radford. I hope that dweeb Nardiello isn’t there, one more Golden Boy story in the paper and I may never show my face in this town again. It was fun at first, but too many people started taking it serious, especially mom and dad. Now it makes me want to vomit every time I hear it. I told her to invite Jodie and Susie, and probably Tammy; those three are joined at the hips. Be good to see them before the summers over.”
Rod started the engine, backed out of the driveway and pointed the car down the tree-shaded street. “Think we need a six pack to help us cope?”
“Let’s get a couple cans of Fosters. That’ll give us a buzz without making us walk crooked. Mom made me promise we wouldn’t drink anything before we got there.”
Rod pulled into a convenience store and got out, sticking his head back in the window. “You need anything else from in here?” he asked.
“Better get a pack of gum. Spearmint.” he added.
“Okay.” The boy disappeared into the store, reappearing several minutes late with a small bag. Once in the car, he handed Andy a large can of the Australian ale while popping the top on his own. “The clerk asked me for an ID, and I stood there, staring at her. I think I embarrassed her. She said, ‘Oh, I guess you forgot it, huh,’ and rang up the beer. I didn’t know what to do, so I tried the intimidating look. God, it scares me when it works,” he chuckled. He put the car in reverse, took a drink of his beer, and headed the vehicle toward the Evergreen Country Club.
Andy and Rod rarely drank, had decided after their first and only night of drunkenness, followed by a miserable hang-over and violent sickness that drinking to extreme couldn’t be a good thing. They did enjoy having the bartenders at the club serve them on the sly, or the rare occasions when their fathers offered them beers. It was a tiny taste of adulthood, and they, like most 18-year olds, enjoyed the bonding of alcohol.
By the time Rodney pulled his Camaro into the parking lot of the club, the boys had consumed half of their beers. The large cans held a full quart and this were the point when the beer became warm and undrinkable. As soon as Rod parked, the boys poured the remainder of the can out the window, pitching the empties into the back seat. Rod extended a stick of gum to Andy, and stuck a piece into his own mouth.
The boys strolled toward the entrance of the club, for all the world looking exactly the part they were living. And each was highly embarrassed by the sign that hung across the front entrance, professionally painted in two-foot high letters, announcing to all that tonight, the party was for:
Andy Webster and Rod Littleton
Radford and Tower High School’s
Golden Boys
Good Luck at Annapolis and Indiana U
“There goes the element of surprise,” Rod quipped, staring at the sign, wondering how to tear it down without getting caught.
“Just keep telling yourself ‘it’s the last time, it’s the last time.’ After tonight, they can invent the platinum boys, or the silver girls, or the diamond twins. This, my friend, is the final performance of the Golden Boys. Let’s enjoy,” Andy said, laughing.
“And if we can’t enjoy, let’s at least tolerate until which time we can make a clean escape,” Rod added, chuckling, shaking his head at the sign as they walked beneath it, into the club and their getting-the-hell-out-of-town bash.
7
The receptionist looked up as the door opened, watching the tall, pretty black girl approach her desk. The girl appeared surprisingly self-assured, smiling as she asked for the man who, in a very real sense, held her future in his hands. The receptionist, a longtime Greenway, Short employee, had not expected to be quite so struck with
the young woman, but she found herself highly impressed.
“Mr. Greenway, please. My name is Shauna Toonis. I have an appointment.”
The receptionist smiled, something she didn‘t normally do to first-time visitors. “Why don’t you have a seat, Miss Toonis, and I’ll let Mr. Greenway know you’re here, he’s expecting you.” She pushed a button on her phone, spoke quietly into the machine, then rose and disappeared into the inner doorway, closing it behind her. She reappeared almost instantly and spoke to Shauna.
“Mr. Greenway will see you now, Shauna,” She said kindly, holding the door open, watching the young woman walk past her, and momentarily remembering how it had been to be 18 and beautiful, with the whole world out there waiting to be conquered.
Shauna went through the doorway, into the lavish office of Simon Greenway. The handsome, silver hair man was sitting behind a large oak desk, the surface covered with papers, pictures and file folders. He stood as the girl approached his desk, extending his hand.
“Shauna, I’m glad you could make it. I’m Simon Greenway. Please, sit. Would you like a cup of coffee?”
“No, thank you. I appreciate you taking the time to see me, Mr. Greenway.” She sat in the wing-back chair directly in front of the desk, crossing her long legs. Greenway retook his seat behind the desk, closing and pushing aside a folder that he had apparently been reading, opening another that was in his basket.
”Now, Shauna, I’ve been studying your transcripts and letters of recommendations. I have to tell you up front, I’m very impressed with the things you’ve accomplished. It’s not often that a young person has been able to overcome so many personal hurdles and still come out on top. You’ve done that, and I am more than a little moved. Why don’t you tell me what your plans and goals are for your future?” His voice was kind, encouraging her to open up.
“I’m going to go to college, Mr. Greenway. One way or another. God gave me a certain degree of intelligence, and, courtesy of my grandmother, a stubborn steak a mile wide. The only question is which college I’m going to be able to attend. As you know from my letter and application, I have a desire to study managerial anthropology. I want to be an efficiency expert, and I firmly believe an undergraduate degree in managerial anthropology, along with an MBA, will prepare me for the vocation I’ve chosen.” Forceful, yet not overbearing, she controlled her pace; not allowing the excitement to take away from what she had to say.
“I’ve received many letters and requests over the years from students, Shauna, but yours was somehow different. Why don’t you tell me, in your own words, exactly what you would like from me, from Greenway, Short.”
Taking a deep breath, the girl continued. “I’ve completed extensive research into the efficiency consultant industry and how it relates to all forms of management, Mr. Greenway. Frankly, my opinion is that Greenway, Short is the best in the business. And when you get to know me better, you’ll find that I don’t use adjectives like that lightly. I feel that if I can become associated with Greenway, Short at this point in my career, I am way ahead of the game.” She was watching him closely, trying to gauge his reaction. He was good, she thought. Probably a heck of a poker player.
“Basically, I am asking you to supplement my partial scholastic grant so that I would be able to attend Crider State University here in the city. In return, I would work for your firm part time, at whatever wages you saw fit. And upon graduation I will commit to your firm for ten years, against a buyout clause, of course. I’ll get my education, and you will get a dedicated, loyal employee. Essentially, that’s it, Mr. Greenway, a good deal for both of us.”
She paused, wondering if she had forgotten anything from her prepared speech. She had rehearsed it so many times it was almost second nature, but all at once she was sure she had forgotten something.
Greenway was looking back at the girl, a thoughtful look on his face. “Tell me, Shauna, how did you manage to graduate from Mailer with your original class, carrying such a high GPA, what, a 3.87, after taking time off to have a child? “
This answer didn’t need a rehearsal. This was her life now.
“I got pregnant at 14, Mr. Greenway, and I offer no excuse for that. As a matter of fact, I wouldn’t trade my son for anything in this world. I attended school for as long as possible, then I carried a full load during the summer to catch back up. My grandmother took on a second job to pay for a tutor during the summer, and I caught up with my class and went on. That’s life, Mr. Greenway, and I’ve done the best I could.”
Again, the thoughtful look. Shauna met the man’s gaze steadily, unflinching, not showing the tension she was feeling. “And what are your plans if Greenway, Short is not able to accommodate you, Shauna?”
He asked the question in a conversational manner, although the words sent daggers of pain through the girl. She composed her answer carefully, took a deep breath and started.
“I’ll take my partial grant to the community junior college, work a full-time job, and after two years, transfer to whatever school will take me. I’m going to get my degree, Mr. Greenway. I’m going to be an efficiency expert, the best efficiency expert in the industry, one way or another.” She sat back, smiling, but her eyes gave her away, the tears welling up, Shauna forcing herself to blink them back.
Greenway smiled, the look exuding warmth. “Shauna, my board met this week, and your application was on the agenda. The human resource department of Greenway, Short has been instructed to design an intern program, complete with college tuition benefits, part time employment throughout college, and full medical and health benefits for the intern and their family. Shauna, you’re the pioneer of this program. A lot of people will be watching you to see if it is going to work, if it’s worth the outlay. I think, after this conversation, we’ve assured the future of Greenway, Short. You, my dear, are going to college.”
Shauna sat there, stunned, not sure that she was hearing correctly. My God, she thought, it’s going to happen, it’s really going to happen. Her wild, shot-in-the-dark had worked. Don’t cry, girl, she told herself right before the tears started flowing.
Greenway rose and walked around his desk, extending his hand. Shauna started to shake it, the hugged that man’s neck, surprising him, warming him, convincing the president of the giant company that he had made a wise and compassionate decision.
8
Dr. Buzz Webster was sitting at the solid oak bar in the main clubhouse of the Evergreen Country Club listening to the tuxedoed bartender extol the virtues of Buzz’s son Andy.
“I’m telling’ you, Dr. Webster, Tower will never have a quarterback like Andy. Remember the Dulles game last year, remember, down two scores with less than five minutes on the clock. Oh man, Andy never lost his cool, drove those boys down the field twice in four minutes. And that pass for two points; that was a thing of beauty, won the game with no time left. You remember, Doc?”
“Yeah, Benny, they were something all right, the best team this town has ever seen. I’m going to miss it, gonna miss my kid. He doesn’t know it, but he’s my best friend.”
Buzz took a gulp of the cranberry and vodka, put the empty glass down and watched Benny mix him another. He was surprised when he looked in the mirror behind the bar that his eyes were red, tears starting to well up in them.
Benny put the drink in front of him, replacing the napkin. “Here you go, Doc. Hey, there’s Mr. Littleton.”
Buzz turned and watched Roy Littleton stroll toward him, tall and unassuming, smiling at the people in the room. Each time Buzz saw Roy enter a room like this, confident and happy with his life, Buzz experienced a slight pang of jealousy. Being a doctor and having a wife who was considered one of Radford’s social butterflies wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. Each time he saw Emily Littleton, Buzz wished his wife could keep herself that fit and trim.
“Hey Buzz, how are you?” Roy called to his golfing partner. “What a sendoff. Those kids sure earned a night like this, haven’t they?”
Hi Roy. How about a drink?” Buzz answered, waving at Benny for a drink for the other man. “Yep, those boys deserve everything we can give them. I hope Mary Jane has a big time, I don’t know what she is going to do with the boys gone. She’s going to find out some other mother is going to be the big dog now. That’s going to kill her,” the sarcasm obvious.
Roy started to answer and then decided this wasn’t the time or place. And anyway, Buzz was right. Mary Jane had lived off of her son’s honors for years, and even Emily had got caught up in it on occasion.
“How about a B-52 and a Bud Light, Benny,” Roy asked, playing the familiar game of trying to order a drink that the bartender didn’t know how to make.
“No problem, Mr. L. I happen to have a brand new bottle of Bailey’s here, just waiting for someone to order a B-52,” Benny replied, chuckling, winning the contest.
Roy had never foiled the bartender, and the game was fun for both of them. Roy passed over a dollar which Benny pocketed with a smile. Although not an Evergreen member, Roy had spent many hours in this bar following rounds of golf with Buzz.
“The Doc and I were talking about how much we’re going to miss the boys. I don’t even know if I can go to games this year without those two playing,” Benny said, setting down the drink served in a shot glass along with a bottle of beer with a chilled glass.
“Oh, I think some other kid will come along and catch out fancy. The boys did very well, that’s a fact. But I don’t think Tower’s athletic program will close down because they graduated.” Roy took a sip of the drink, then poured his beer into the glass, taking a long drink of the cold brew. “So Buzz, what’s on the agenda tonight. I haven’t had a chance to talk with Em. I was told to be here at 6:30, and here I am.”
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