Eric drove his car to the exact spot he had memorized on the map, amazed how clearly he remembered it. The winding road through the cemetery had remained solidly etched in his memory. Without hesitation, Eric walked directly from his car to Tommy’s grave. He stood in front of the small, white stone, reading it aloud. “Captain Thomas H. Johnson, United States Air Force.”
A tremendous sense of grief overwhelmed Eric. As he dropped to his knees, he knew why he had avoided Tommy’s grave. He had never let go of the dream they came so close to sharing. Eric knew it was time to let go. He allowed himself to cry freely for almost fifteen minutes, releasing all the sorrow, anger, and bitterness he had held onto so long. A sense of tranquility settled over him as he arranged flowers on Tommy’s grave.
“Tommy, I’ve missed you so much. Sorry it took so long to get here, but you know how badly I say good-bye. I wish I knew you could hear me. Guess it’ll do me good just to get this off my chest.” Reaching into his jacket, Eric removed a handkerchief, then wiped his nose dry. “I’m doing all right, Tommy. It’s been a struggle without you, but I’ve come a long way. I’m in love with a man named Cody. He sorta looks like you, Tommy. Very Scandinavian. Blond, fair skin, and all that. Little taller than you and me, but I’ve never held that against him. Music is to him what flying was to you. He says he loves me. I love him, too. I have lots of gay friends now, Tommy. It scares me how many people hate gays, so I’ve decided to do something. If I succeed, maybe some other couple like us won’t have to live in fear and shame. I’m doing this for us. And for Cody and our friends and the millions we’ll never know by name. If you’ve got any influence where you are now, pull some strings for me, huh? This time, I’m not going to try to do everything by myself. The last time I interfered in the lives of people I love, things got pretty screwed up. I just wanted to stop by and say good-bye before I fix any damage I caused so many years ago.”
Eric paused, allowing his tears to dry. “Tommy, I wish I knew if your jet crashed from mechanical failure, or because you were hungover, or maybe because you wanted to die. I've wondered so long whether I was responsible for your death because I got you that assignment. I could have said no, and you might still be alive. Then again, if I hadn't helped, you would've found another way to get that slot. I could have told you about the money I had tucked away in a Swiss bank. If you hadn’t worried about money, you might have resigned earlier and still be alive. But maybe your pride wouldn't have let you accept money from me. I could have done so many things differently, but you might have died anyway. I know I shouldn't blame myself every time people I love are hurt, but it's a compulsion. My mind knows I’m not responsible for your death, but it's taken a long time for the message to reach my heart and soul.”
As he recalled their brief relationship, Eric remembered Tommy’s laugh and smile and many of their conversations. One conversation in particular came to mind. “Tommy, you were right about many things, but you got one very important thing wrong. You told me people like us don’t deserve anything; that we need to take what we get. You were so wrong, Tommy! We deserve to be treated exactly the same as every other human being, and I’m willing to spend the rest of my life making sure we are.”
Eric made a ritualistic sign of the cross. “Rest in peace, Tommy,” he murmured, then rose to his feet and walked slowly to his car. When he reached his car, he turned back. He smiled slightly, glad he had come at last. It occurred to Eric he didn’t have a single thing to remember Tommy. No pictures. No letters. No gifts. Not the tiniest memento. Of course, he had his memories. Eric decided that was enough. There would be no need to return to Fort Snelling.
That evening, Eric insisted the servants take the night off so he and Cody could have the house to themselves. After a leisurely dinner by the fireplace, Eric drew Cody close to himself. They snuggled quietly for several minutes.
“This is nice, Eric. I really enjoy living here. With the condo in New York, the beach house in California, and this big, old house in Minnesota, we have the best of all worlds. All we’re missing are two Irish setters and a sailboat in the background.”
“Will you settle for a fairy instead of a sailboat?” Eric punned.
“You’re certainly in a playful mood tonight,” Cody observed. “Did you find a nice little company to buy at Macy’s half-price sale today?”
“Very funny!” Eric laughed, then tickled Cody until he begged for mercy. “It’ll be good to see you back on stage again with that vast army of admirers at your feet. You can still sing and play guitar, can’t you?”
Cody bolted upright. “What’s going on?”
“It’s time you get back to your career. You’re not getting any younger and you know how fickle fans are.”
Cody was confused and worried. Their sex life was still enormously satisfying. “Why do you want me to go back to work? I haven’t even taken a year off yet. Are you bored with me already?”
Eric had not anticipated Cody’s reaction. He assumed Cody would be pleased, never guessing his lover would take it as a sign something was wrong. “No, no, it isn’t that at all. It’s my turn now. I’m going to take some time off while you resume your show biz career. I’ll play housemate and travel companion, but first I need to take a short trip. God, I still want us to be together night and day! I know how much you miss your work, so I want you to start again.”
“Can you afford to do this, Eric? I thought you had a ten-year contract you couldn’t break? I won’t let you ruin your career so I can return to mine.”
“I’ve found a way around that. Don’t worry. We’ll have you back on stage in no time. I’m so confident, I want you to call your agent tomorrow and line up a few concerts.”
They sat and looked at each other for a few moments and then broke into hysterical laughter.
CHAPTER 15
Downtown Minneapolis
JP ambled down the long corridor to the bank president’s office. After his sensational climb to the top of the highly competitive bank, JP felt he had been reduced to the role of a messenger once again. Furthermore, JP was disappointed the head of the bank’s new parent company had not spoken to him once since the merger two years earlier. JP felt he had a special relationship with the CEO of Foresight International. After all, Eric Price had been his first boss when he entered the business world.
Jean-Paul had seen Eric only once since the merger. Everyone knew Eric did not intend to personally run the bank after it became part of Foresight. A helipad was installed atop the forty-story bank so Eric could chopper into town, land on the bank, take an elevator down three floors and walk into the boardroom on the few occasions he needed to be there. Otherwise, bank executives had to make the twenty-two mile drive out to Eric’s palatial, glass, suburban headquarters, or fly to New York. Bad weather forced Eric to use ground transportation on his last visit, so he arrived at the bank’s front entrance in a limo motorcade. Eric’s silver Mercedes limo had heavily tinted windows and flew flags bearing the Foresight logo from each of its corners. JP recognized Eric after spotting the familiar head of wavy golden hair, expensive sunglasses, silk scarf, and leather racing gloves. The driver called out to Eric, who returned momentarily to the car. That’s when Eric spotted JP and sent a faint smile of recognition, waving casually. The next instant, Eric turned on his heel and marched resolutely into the bank.
When JP arrived at his boss’s office, he opened the door casually, no longer in awe of Philip Schick, the aristocratic grandson of the bank’s founder. He froze in his tracks when he spotted Eric Price standing by Philip’s desk.
“JP, good to see you!” Eric cried as he hustled over and shook JP’s hand. “Come in, come in,” Eric continued as he closed the door. “Please, sit down.”
As the three men settled around a circular conference table, JP found his voice. “This is an unexpected pleasure, Eric. What brings you here?”
“I have a favor to ask the two of you, but it will mean a sacrifice,” Eric warned.
�
��You know we always stand ready to help the parent company, Eric,” Philip declared patronizingly.
JP spotted the flash of contempt on Eric’s face, remembering how he despised Philip when they all worked together. He once told JP that Philip was only useful for public relations since he was well known, charming, and photogenic. JP remained silent, waiting for Eric to yield more details.
Eyeing JP carefully, Eric leaned back in his chair. “How do you like your role as CFO at the bank, JP? Be candid. We’ve known each other too long for you to pull any punches.”
“Well,” JP began, with the familiar throat clearing following, “it’s okay, but I don’t feel particularly challenged since the merger.”
“I can believe that,” Eric nodded. “How would you like a promotion…..to be president of the parent company?”
“Seriously?” JP gasped.
“Now, Eric, a good CFO is hard to come by,” Philip whined in a vain attempt to prevent the raid. He was appalled a man so much his junior was being elevated to a post he coveted for himself. “What am I going to do?”
“Philip, you’ve got plenty of talent on that bloated financial staff,” Eric insisted. “I’ll send you one of my people in exchange. Or you can choose JP’s replacement yourself. Either way, I want JP to begin his new responsibilities tomorrow. Look at it this way, Phil. You’ll have a friend in high court with JP at corporate. And you get anybody you want in return. I’ll even approve the plans for your new bank building without a fuss, okay?”
Philip realized he had no hope of changing Eric’s mind, so he accepted the goodies tossed his way. Eric rose and shook Philip’s hand. “Thanks. I owe you one, Philip.” Then he turned affectionately to JP. “Come on, JP, our limo’s waiting. You and I have lots to discuss while we agree what your new duties will be.” JP’s broad grin reflected the warmth he felt inside. His mentor had not forgotten him.
Once inside the limo, Eric poured coffee for both of them. “Surprised?” Eric asked his protégé.
“Shocked!” JP admitted, a bit giddy.
“Here, read this press release and see if it suits you.” Eric pulled a single page from his briefcase and handed it to JP. It read:
Today, Foresight International announced the appointment of Jean-Paul Drummond as President and Chief Operating Officer. He will report to Eric Price, Chairman and Chief Executive Officer of Foresight. Mr. Drummond, 32, graduated from Harvard with a BS in Economics. For the past two years, he has served as Chief Financial Officer of InterNorth Bank, NA. Mr. Drummond will be responsible for all day-to-day operations of Foresight, with all business unit executives reporting to him. Mr. Price will devote his time to strategic planning and community affairs. Commenting on the appointment, Mr. Price said, “I’m looking forward to working with Jean-Paul. He has the combination of technical and managerial skills necessary to run a complex corporation in today’s fast-changing world.” Foresight International is a diversified holding company with interests in finance, transportation, energy, manufacturing, communications, and consumer products. Foresight does business through one-hundred-ten subsidiaries in ninety-one countries around the world.
“How does it read, JP?”
“Like a dream come true!”
“Questions?”
“I thought you had forgotten me, Eric. Why me and why now?” JP asked.
While Eric explained what he had in mind, JP felt his excitement leak slowly onto the limo’s floor. Even the prospect of running one of the world’s largest, most prestigious corporations could not restore JP’s spirits. The move would not bring him any closer to his mentor, at least not right away.
CHAPTER 16
Skyline, Wisconsin
The silver Mercedes rolled along the narrow streets of residential Skyline, cruising past scores of subcompacts, pickups, and SUVs. It was the type of neighborhood folks lived in after they had been married a few years and wanted to raise children. Half moved on to bigger, better homes, while the rest stayed until a hearse came for them.
Since it was mid-afternoon on a scorcher of a Wednesday in July, few people saw Eric pass. They were at work, on vacation, or enjoying one of the area lakes. Those unlucky enough to be around were sealed tightly inside air-conditioned homes. They were not the type to shed their clothes, oil their skins, and beg the sun to darken their pale bodies. They were retired or widowed folks whose children had all grown and left. They were people like Eric’s parents. He was counting on them being home as much as he was hoping the rest of the neighbors would be gone.
When he reached the nine-hundred block of Wilson Street, Eric slowed to take in every detail. He did not want to miss a single change or familiar sight. Eric turned the Mercedes into a narrow asphalt driveway in the middle of the block, recalling his fear of smashing into the concrete steps bordering the driveway. Eric was shocked such a trivial fear had survived the years, lurking in the recesses of his mind. No wonder the other old fears had become such powerful forces in shaping his life.
Eric shut the motor off and sat in the car a few moments, wondering if he should go through with his visit. Moments later he eased out of the Mercedes’ cool passenger compartment and into the hot midday sun. Standing in the driveway he studied the yard and the house. Eric gathered an enormous amount of detail about his surroundings with a single scan. His superb memory quickly processed, sorted, compared, analyzed, and filed the information for later use. He was pleased to see new trees, rose bushes, and vinyl siding. Eric was amazed by the condition of both the yard and the house. He had never known his parents to invest much energy in decoration or yardwork. It gave him hope that all would be well inside the house, too.
Eric rang the front doorbell, prepared for either or both of his parents to answer. He was prepared for them to be happy, stunned, or angry. He was even prepared for them not to recognize him. He was not prepared to be greeted by a platinum blonde in her forties.
The woman opened the inner door about a foot. When she saw a man wearing a three-piece suit, she was grateful the screen door was locked. Rita eyed her caller suspiciously, waiting for him to state his business.
When Rita answered the door, Eric was shocked. He was such a careful planner he wondered how he could have missed the possibility a stranger might answer. Eric recovered in a matter of seconds. “I’m here to see Paul and Joanna York,” he announced.
The names did not register with Rita. “Who?”
“Paul and Joanna York,” Eric repeated, something he rarely did. It was his way of punishing people who didn’t pay as careful attention as he did.
“You’ve got the wrong address,” Rita replied dully.
Eric stared at the overweight housewife. For a moment, he felt like ripping her throat out in a single swipe, but hid his anger with a smile. “That’s impossible. I know they live here, or did at one time. Are you the owner now?”
“Yup. Pete and me bought this place a year ago. Boy, it was really a dump! Hey, wait a minute. Now I remember. Our realtor said the old couple who lived here before had a name like Pork or York. Something like that.”
“Would you happen to know where I can find them now? If not, perhaps your realtor would know?”
Rita opened the door a bit more to get a closer look at her handsome visitor. She spotted the Mercedes. If asked, she would not have been able to name the car’s manufacturer, but she could spot money as easily as anyone. Maybe he was a lawyer. Pete said all lawyers were rich crooks, so Rita knew she had better be on her guard.
“I think the realtor said they were moving to a nursing home since they were both sick. Why?”
The truth embarrassed Eric. He was ashamed to say they were his parents and that he had not seen nor spoken with them for twenty years. “I’m a…..uh, relative. I was in town and thought I’d look the old folks up.”
“Oh, I see. Hang on a sec and I’ll get the realtor’s number. You can talk to him yourself.”
As Rita turned to get the number, Eric acted on a sudden impulse. “
Ma’am, I wonder if you’d mind if I take a look inside? I spent a lot of time here as a kid. I’d like just one more look.”
Eric’s pleading eyes melted Rita’s heart. She studied him a few seconds, then smiled. “Sure, why not? If you’ll just wait here in the living room, I’ll make sure my husband’s decent before I show you around.” She unlatched the screen door and held it open for Eric.
Eric wandered around the living room, careful not to touch anything. His mind drifted back to the night his father’s pals brought him home after being beaten savagely in a drunken brawl. Eric had slipped out of his bedroom and watched from behind a chair in the corner. His father’s face was swollen beyond recognition. Six years later, Eric’s family fell apart in the same room.
Rita reappeared, dragging her husband behind her. “This is my husband, Pete. By the way, I didn’t catch your name.”
Eric stuck out his hand to shake Pete’s. “Nice to meet you, sir. I’m Eric.”
Rita and Pete gave Eric the grand tour around the modest, five-room house. Eric complimented them on the way they had remodeled and furnished the home. No matter what it had looked like, Eric would have complimented them. Rita complained at length about the prior condition, then smirked about the tremendous bargain they had negotiated.
“I declare, it was the filthiest thing I’ve ever seen!” she exclaimed. “Wax caked on the linoleum floor, all yellow and black. We had to paint the walls twice to cover the cigarette smoke stains. The drapes and carpeting had to be thrown away. We spent all summer landscaping. The yard was overgrown with weeds and littered with junk. It looked like they hadn’t lifted a finger for years to keep up this place. You wonder how people can live like that! I know they’re your relatives, Eric, but I can’t understand how people can just let things go that way. The neighbors rarely saw them. Pity, isn’t it, Eric?”
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