Mr. and Mrs. Chase were Ed and Allison. It had never occurred to Jack to call them anything else. “Ed, Allison,” Jack said, pumping Ed’s hand, presenting his jaw for Allison’s kiss. They were meeting in the Omni’s bar before they went out to dinner. Mr. and Mrs. Chase were established at a table by the window. From there you could look down to Michigan Avenue, which had been outfitted with a great deal of wrought-iron fencing and sidewalk flower planters. It was possible to imagine you were in Paris, that is, if you had never actually been to Paris. A waiter hovered. Mrs. Chase was drinking white wine, Mr. Chase gin and tonic. Mr. Chase announced that he was buying them a drink. Jack and Chloe ordered good old iced tea.
“Iced tea?” Mr. Chase looked as if this was a joke that needed to be explained to him.
“I’m not drinking,” said Chloe. “It’s a health thing. So how was your drive, any stinky construction?”
“Sweetheart, don’t tell me,” said Chloe’s mother.
“Don’t tell you what?”
“You’re pregnant.”
“I think I asked, how was your drive.”
“Let me look at you.” Her mother swiped at the tablecloth, peered underneath it. “Honey Bear, you’re simply skin and bones!”
“I’m not pregnant, Mom. I just want some iced tea.”
“Actually, I’m the one who’s pregnant,” said Jack. They all looked at him. “Skip it.”
“Classy place,” said Mr. Chase, looking up at the lounge’s ceiling, which was high and painted like a sky, tender blue, with a lacework of golden clouds. “You’re not pregnant. No grandpa. Boo hoo.”
“Oh stop your stupid noise, there’s plenty of time for that,” said Chloe’s mother. “Thank God for modern birth control. Did you know the pill was first made widely available the year I was seventeen? I was fortunate in that respect. The drive up was fine, Honey Bear.”
“I don’t suppose you’re ever going to stop calling me that.”
“So, Jack.” Mr. Chase, Ed, leaned toward him over the table, and Jack leaned gamely in turn. “Don’t tell me you’re still holding out hope for those Cubbies.”
“They’ll get it together by September,” Jack said. “Wait and see. Sammy’s just getting started.”
“You’re dreaming. You know the old joke? Cubs’ schedule. Fold here.”
Jack shook his head in rueful pretend agreement. He’d been to only one Cubs game in his life. He supposed it was too late to admit any such thing. It would have been akin to admitting he’d married Chloe under false pretenses. Ed went on to talk about the Cardinals, their superior lead-off hitter, their power pitching, their advantageous lineup. As with most hard-of-hearing people, it was easiest to just let him talk. All of Ed’s enthusiasms were competitive. He was a middle-aged boy.
It was still alarming to Jack to realize that he had in-laws, and that he was now connected to these semi-strangers in certain inevitable ways. The future loomed. Jack would be the one who would convey Chloe to the emergency room when Ed had his heart attack or stroke. He’d fetch coffee and Kleenex, he’d be the one they’d count on to stay strong, that is, emotionally uninvolved. He’d help Allison sort through the insurance. He’d handle all the messier business of their declining lives. He’d confer with doctors, help select nursing homes, and when the time came, he would get them both properly underground. He’d take care of all the arrangements that Chloe and her younger sister would be too grief stricken to handle. No wonder parents looked askance at the men their daughters married. No wonder Ed made a point of bonding with him. There was a lot at stake.
Chloe and her mother were talking about Chloe’s hair, and whether she should cut it. Hair was what they talked about instead of baseball. Allison Chase said, “I don’t mean short short. More like, layers. Then you could do more with it.” She reached out and pushed a piece of Chloe’s hair behind her ear. “You’re getting just a wee bit scraggly.”
“Jack likes it long,” said Chloe, and Jack tried to assume a manly, proprietary look. He did like Chloe’s hair long, but he knew very well that she liked it long herself.
“Oh what does he know about professional women and making an impression in the workplace. Too much hair is tarty. You don’t want to look like some stripper act, do you? You know, the ones where the girl comes out in a business suit and starts peeling down?”
“Mom, that is so weird.”
Ed said, “Now, Allison, no need to tell the kids about our little games.”
“Don’t you just wish,” said Allison, signaling the waiter for another drink. Her own hair was cut chin length. Over time, Jack guessed to cope with the graying, it had achieved a burnished, mid-blond tone with metallic highlights. It now resembled something other than hair, a space-age miracle fabric, perhaps.
“Ha ha,” said Ed. “Let’s have another here too. Mr. and Mrs. Lipton, you good? What your mother isn’t telling you, Chloe, is her enthusiasm for certain erotic—”
“Chloe,” Allison announced. “Your real father was a war hero whose life was tragically cut short at a young age. I’ve been waiting for the right time to tell you.”
Jack said, “We should probably think about dinner. It’ll take us about twenty minutes to get there, traffic and all.”
“He’s such a grown-up,” her mother said to Chloe. “Really, he’s so responsible. That must be why you married him.”
“Partly,” said Chloe, giving him a weary, comradely look. He knew she appreciated his willingness to be the straight man and allow her parents to carry on this way. He had to wonder how they behaved when there was no one around to serve as an audience. They drank too much, he believed that Chloe had either learned or inherited her drinking problems from them. They had been loving but incomplete parents, too childish and self-involved to be entirely attentive. Jack supposed that Chloe’s own scenes and dramatics were another habit, a way of competing with them for attention. They were careless about their words and behavior in ways that made Jack wince. But damned if they didn’t seem happy together. They were a cartoon, a situation comedy, but they were happy.
The Cubs game was the next day, Friday. Jack was to meet Ed and Allison at their hotel and stop by Chloe’s office before they made their way to Wrigley. Chloe had begged out of the ball game. She didn’t pretend to be interested in such things, and besides, ditching work on a Friday afternoon was bad form for management trainees trying to exude the Right Stuff. After the game, they’d all meet back at the apartment for dinner, which would be casual. Burgers on the grill, potato salad, nothing that would lend itself to conversations about cooking skills, something Chloe was sensitive about. “Mom already thinks I’m some kind of kitchen slut because I buy bottled salad dressing. Fine. Let them eat burgers.”
Jack took the bus downtown to the hotel. The day promised to be hot but not wilting. There was a fresh breeze off the lake and an actual blue sky instead of the usual cement-colored pall. Somewhere beyond his view, tourists were presented with the marvel of the lakefront, its layers of water, beach, green park, highway, and skyline, the best of the city served up like some grand dessert. Buckingham Fountain threw out its arcs and fans of bright water. Even the tame river had a sparkle to it. It was the finest summer day Chicago could offer, and Jack had to allow that there were worse things than heading out to the ballpark with the rest of the city’s pleasure seekers.
Ed and Allison emerged from the hotel elevators wearing hats. Ed wore his Cardinals baseball cap as a joke (the Cubs were playing the Brewers, so Jack hoped it might escape notice), while Allison had selected a modish brimmed straw. They both wore khakis and polo shirts. Jack liked them for that, for dressing up together. In the cab over to Chloe’s office, he sat in the back with Allison while Ed rode shotgun, his arm draped across the seat. High-rises turned the streets into shadowy canyons. Ed gave each block an appraising look and asked Jack questions that he couldn’t answer about property tax structures. Ed nodded in disappointment and swiveled around to face them. “Chloe works to
o damned hard,” he pronounced. “I don’t see why she can’t come with us.”
“Because she doesn’t want to,” said Allison. “Don’t be pestering her, besides, she has obligations.”
“She has what?”
“A career.”
“My daughter, the banker.”
“Would it kill you to be supportive of her?”
“Who said I wasn’t? It just takes some getting used to. When I was in school, girls mostly got education degrees. Because they always need teachers, right Jack? That way they had a little flexibility, and they didn’t have to knock themselves out working.”
“She wants to distinguish herself,” said Allison. “She has ambitions. Come on, Ed, why don’t you just walk around wearing a sign that says, ‘I don’t get it.’”
“Christ, she’s already distinguished. She’s beautiful, she’s smart, she’s got Jack to keep her feet warm at night. Now, Jack, that didn’t come out right. What I meant was, she’s not alone in the world.”
It was a short cab ride, but by the end of it Jack was pretty sure where he stood in the rankings.
Chloe met them downstairs in the lobby, smiling her best. “Hey, guys, I have to have you sign in. How was the hotel? You sleep okay?”
“Fine and fine,” said Ed. “Do you know you can order a fitness kit from room service? They send up a jump rope, exercise mat, towel, and a bottle of water. You think I’m making that up but I’m not.”
“I like your suit,” said Allison. “We should have dressed better to come here, I don’t know what I was thinking.”
Chloe’s office was on the ninth floor. The building’s public side, its facade and entrance, was grand enough, all the architecture money could buy, but they stepped out of the elevator into a long, corporate barracks of a room. Secretaries labored in a center row of cubicles; hutchlike offices lined the outer walls. One of these was Chloe’s. There was nothing fancy about any of it, but that worked in its favor, as if everyone here was too engrossed in serious business to pay attention to their surroundings.
“Come on, I’ll give you the cheap tour.” Chloe led the way. Her parents followed and Jack brought up the rear. He hadn’t been up here often, a time or two meeting her after work, but he already knew there wasn’t much to see. Chloe was covering ground, smiling back over her shoulder to make sure the others kept up. People glanced at the little procession but no one greeted Chloe, nor she them. Jack watched the faces as she passed. Something in them seemed to close down, was even unfriendly. He gave thanks once again that he didn’t work in the corporate world.
He hadn’t been in the building since Chloe had all the problems with the junior-grade asshole who must be around here someplace. Jack made a point of glowering into every office they passed. Chloe had refused to tell him a name or any details, so he was free to imagine which one of these dressed-up punks liked talking sex with his wife. But it was almost lunch hour, there was a general emptying out as people began thinking about sandwiches and getting a good spot in the sun of the courtyard. And none of the men he saw looked either flashy enough or creepy enough to match his mental picture. He told himself to forget it, stop clawing at the itch. He didn’t enjoy jealousy. He was too good at it.
Chloe reached her office and halted in the doorway like a museum guide. “There’s really not that much to it.” She shrugged. But Jack knew it meant something, a first office. A toehold on the ladder. Chloe took pride in it, even as she pretended hard not to. Ed should realize this. Ed could calculate to the inch just how much downtown office space was worth, what it meant to have walls that went all the way up to the ceiling. It was a standard-issue office with built-in desk and shelving. Chloe had explained to Jack that you did not decorate an office. Decorating was a girl thing. God forbid you should have a floral-printed Kleenex box holder or a cute poster. Chloe had made room for a coffee mug, and pictures in sterling-silver frames. (Chloe and Jack on their honeymoon in New Orleans, Chloe’s family assembled for Christ-mas.) Her raincoat hung on a peg. The rest of it could have been anyone’s.
Chloe’s mother said, “Your own little space. That’s so wonderful.”
“Mom.”
Ed said, “It’s an office, Allison, it’s not anything to get mushy about.”
“You’re a big drip. He’s really very proud of you, darling. We both are.”
“Easily impressed, aren’t they?” Chloe remarked to Jack.
“She never could accept compliments,” said Allison. “At least, not from me. What do I know, I’m just the mother. A figure of fun.”
Ed said, “So what exactly is it you do in here? If you don’t mind me asking.”
“Different things. They move us around to work in all the bank’s areas, like a medical student doing an internship. We train in finance, retail banking, sales and marketing, that’s things like credit cards and small and midsize businesses. Oh, and investments, and international operations.”
“I see,” said Ed, just as if she’d answered his question.
A man looked in from the open doorway. “Knock knock.” It was Spence, Chloe’s boss. Or rather, her boss’s boss. Spence was the Vice President in charge of something-or-other.
“Spence, come on in, I’d like you to meet my parents. Mom, Dad, Jim Spencer.”
Allison said, “We’re on our way to the ball game.” She indicated the polo shirts, apologizing.
Spence shook hands with Ed. “A Cards fan, huh.” Meaning the hat. “Don’t rub it in, buddy.” Spence kissed Allison’s hand, cornballing around so it was funny. To Jack he said, “You have to quit coming up here, you look too damned good.” Jack liked Spence. Everybody liked him. He was the good boss. “I can’t have anybody prettier than me around here.” And this was funny because Spence was a big, well-upholstered man who had no doubt once been slimmer, but not pretty. He had a big high balding forehead, a graying mustache and beard that were a triumph of precision barbering, and a big man’s hearty laugh. “Chloe, you gotta mess him up a little.”
“I do,” said Chloe. “But he heals fast.”
And just like that they were smiling, an easy, animated group, something they hadn’t been able to achieve on their own. Jack wished he’d said something funny about Ed’s hat himself.
“Did you tell your parents you’re the star around here? She is. She sets the pace.”
“Shucks,” said Chloe.
“We were very lucky to get her. We try to treat her like a jewel and keep her polished.”
“Cut it out, Spence, they’ll think I’m paying you off.” But Chloe looked happy. Contrary to what her mother had said, she did know how to accept compliments.
Spence was the one who made it a point to know all the trainees’ names. He was very good at his job, he’d made a name for himself, moving from one institution to another, acquiring ever more hiring bonuses and stock options. Being successful was probably what allowed him the luxury of being nice. Spence said, “Chloe tell you about her award?”
“Chloe!”
“Mom, it’s more like what you get for finishing probation.”
“Well, it’s a little more than that. She gets to go with us to New York next month for a junket. Not that we call it that. It’s officially a week of off-site training. But we only take the top people in the class.”
“I just found out, I was going to tell everyone tonight at dinner. Oh well.”
Jack put an arm around her shoulders. “Congratulations.”
“No huge fuss, okay?”
“Sort of huge.”
Ed said, “Congratulations, baby,” and Allison said that she never told them anything. It was a setup. Chloe had asked Spence to deliver her news for her. Jack was certain of it, though he couldn’t think why, unless it was intended to impress the parents.
Spence asked Ed and Allison how long they were going to be in town, could he take them to lunch? It was too late for that, they were going to eat hot dogs at the ballpark. Spence probably figured on that. Still, it was ni
ce of him to go through the motions. It was nice for Chloe’s sake. Jack raised his eyebrows at her, winked, and she gave him a remote smile. She seemed anxious to move things along and sent them all on their way, probably before Ed and Allison could launch into another one of their picturesque arguments. It was his cue.
“Guys, we should probably get a move on.”
Spence shook hands with everyone again. “You folks have yourself a time, now.”
“Take care of our girl,” said Ed, and Spence promised that he would.
Jack said, “Just don’t keep her out too late tonight.”
“Now that’s the kind of thing I like to hear from a husband.”
That was good for another laugh, then they made their way to the elevators. Jack looked back and saw Chloe and Spence already engrossed in serious conversation. Chloe frowned over a piece of computer printout. Back to work. It was an office, after all, not a place where wives, husbands, and sweethearts were meant to be hanging around.
In the cab on the way to Wrigley, Ed said, “Well. Well, well, well.”
“I hope she’ll be careful in New York,” said Allison.
Jack said that Chloe worked really hard, it was good to see it starting to pay off for her. He told himself that he was not, goddamn it, going to begrudge her any of it. He was going to be supportive. The enlightened husband. The cab let them off a couple of blocks from Wrigley, and they joined the crowd sauntering in from the parking lots. It seemed to have gotten hotter out on the sidewalks. Four or five young men passed them, their heads shaved at the sides like marines. They wore shirts advertising different alcoholic beverages. They were loud and casually profane. Fucking this, fucking that. Jack stopped at a vendor and bought two Cubs hats.
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