Iron Dogs and Caesar's Ruby

by Dave R. Mortensen

  His battering ended at the thirty minute mark when Yamaguchi called a halt to the training exercise and the small audience applauded, none of them ever having witnessed Kendo before.

  “What now?” Yamaguchi asked as they bowed formally then began stowing their equipment in large bags.

  “I’m meeting Catherine for lunch,” he began then paused in thought. “Want to join us?”

  Yamaguchi shook his head. “I’m already in a foursome at twelve-fifteen.”

  Kirkland laughed quickly then asked sarcastically, “And which handicap are you going to show them?”

  As if he were somehow offended Yamaguchi replied, “The real one.”

  “The real nine or the real seven?” Kirkland chided.

  “Eleven.”

  In mock amazement Kirkland asked, “Eleven? Since when?”

  Yamaguchi looked up to the ceiling and shook his head. “I know ... can you believe it? It’s my boss ... work has really taken a toll on my iron game.”

  “You can go to hell for lying,” Kirkland advised.

  “Jews don’t believe in hell.”

  Kirkland froze momentarily with his equipment bag in hand. “That’s two ... cheating at golf and saying you’re Jewish.”

  “I’m not cheating at golf—”

  “Eleven?” Kirkland chided more than asked. “How much are you playing for?”

  “Don’t know yet.”

  “A Japanese gonif ... who’d a known of such a thing?”

  “Hey, mom remarried. And would you have looked for a dojo run by some dude named Ben Epstein?”

  Kirkland shook his head and grinned at the familiar explanation as he said, “Wouldn’t have been my first choice.”

  “Well, there you go ... and it is eleven.”

  They began walking to the dressing room and Kirkland’s mood shifted as he thought about the whirlwind of events that had culminated in them being at a resort in the hill country of Texas. “Hey, I’m sorry you’re not home with Terri ... especially for the holiday.”

  “Not a problem ... I really wanted to hang around and see what dropped you like an eight-pound hammer. After seeing her I understand.”

  Knowing there were few secrets between them Kirkland smiled broadly then his tone became serious. “This is ... this is really different. It scares the shit out of me.”

  The way he said it gave his sensei, employee and friend pause. “Kinda quick, isn’t it?” he asked with a serious note of concern as they entered the locker room. He accurately read Kirkland’s less-humorous demeanor and decided to not kid around about the seemingly powerful new relationship. “Hey, only if you want my opinion—”

  “I do,” Kirkland said quickly. “And Terri’s,” he added, noting his dependence on the other Yamaguchi’s often unflinching opinions. “And your girls’, too.”

  Yamaguchi was surprised and he smiled when he thought of having an un-planned guest at the Kirkland estate, sensing Terri would immediately bond with the woman and his two little girls would treat her like some kind of a new pet. He looked at Kirkland closely. “You’re dead on serious about her, aren’t you?”

  Kirkland put the gym bag in the locker and then froze in thought as it sunk in. After a few moments he nodded. “I am.” He looked around and finally admitted, “And this ... I don’t want to screw this up. You think Terri and the girls can get here tomorrow?”

  “Tomorrow?”

  “Apparently they have a few hundred people over for Memorial Day.”

  “A few hundred people?” Yamaguchi asked incredulously.

  Kirkland nodded. “See what she can do ... I’ve screwed up your holiday enough,” he said as he closed the locker and headed to the showers.

  - # -

  After sneaking up behind her and gently kissing her on the cheek, Kirkland took a chair across the table from her in one of the resort’s less formal cafés. “Sorry to have you sitting here waiting,” he offered.

  She sounded reassuring as she said, “Oh, no, I’ve been here all of a minute.” After looking at him a few seconds she noted, “Well, you don’t look like you were ‘soundly thrashed’.”

  Kirkland tried to give her a serious look. “Oh, but I assure you, I was,” he announced then couldn’t resist adding defensively, “It was not entirely my fault – my strength was sapped.”

  She tried unsuccessfully to stifle a smile and raised the menu to keep him from seeing her face. “Maybe it was the breakfast,” she teased, deliberately reminding him of the absurd room-service meal they had ordered just before six a.m. after waking up utterly famished in his bed.

  “I assure you it was not,” he responded seriously, remembering vividly the eclectic order of oysters, lobster, shrimp and crab claws they had lingered over. “I should have gone for the bacon double-cheeseburger and fries.”

  She lowered the menu just enough to see the upper half of his face and he continued without looking up, “It’s the calories one burns in s—”

  Catherine interrupted him gently with her foot under the table and glanced around in embarrassment even though no one was close enough to actually hear them.

  Kirkland looked up at her in mock surprise as he continued, “In seasonal flying.” When she didn’t react he added, “Lots of turbulence. Adrenaline. It causes the body to burn more calories.” Seeing the shrewd look on her face he couldn’t resist going further. “The arousal—”

  The instant nudge on his calf from her foot made him smile as he set the menu down. Before he could say anything more then the waiter brought ice water and took their lunch order as Catherine was trying to not seem embarrassed.

  Kirkland had a boyish grin fixed on his face and couldn’t help enjoy watching her struggle to not smile. As she pouted in disapproval he said, “I know this is all seemingly happening at once.” He moved his water glass and adjusted the silverware absently then looked back at her and hesitated as if he were thinking about what to say. “I’m trying not to make this far too complicated ... bear with me ... I’m, I’m ... I’m not good at this.”

  She tipped her head slightly then leaned forward and spoke mockingly in a whisper, “Really? You sure had me fooled last night.”

  The tension he had been feeling drained away with the not-so-subtle compliment and he looked in her eyes again. “Ahem ... allow me to rephrase. I mean to say ... the thing is, this kind of thing can be tricky ... I want you to come to Long Island.”

  Thoughts raced through her head about all that sudden invitation might entail.

  “Not today,” he said quickly, realizing he may have jumped too soon. “When you can get away for a few days.”

  She took a deep breath as her eyes softened. She realized how little she really knew about him but at that moment none of the missing pieces seemed to matter. His sudden vulnerability took her by surprise and it took almost no time to decide. “When the next exhibit is locked in – two or three weeks? I have some vacation time.” The pleased look on his face was hard to miss and while she didn’t want to raise any issues she had to ask, “What about your schedule?”

  “I want you to be a larger part of my schedule.”

  Her mouth opened slightly as she inhaled and held her breath, trying to imagine the full meaning of what he just said.

  Kirkland saw the surprised expression. “I said that rather badly,” he said quietly. “I’m assuming too much—”

  She interrupted by taking his hand in both of hers and whispered emphatically, “I don’t think so ... I don’t think you are.”

  He looked visibly relieved. “I didn’t want it to sound as if I could just ... just ring you up and ‘fit you in’ at my convenience ... it did sound that way, didn’t it?”

  She leaned back slightly and a very sexy smile formed. Oh but you can ring me up any time, silly boy, she thought recklessly. She knew from not only personal experience but from that of her friends that relationships between people with established careers and divergent schedules were difficult enough; long-distance a
ffairs either failed or ended up with one or the other of the participants uprooting themselves to live with the other – sometimes with unfortunate consequences.

  But the emotional high she was on was overcoming her normally well-entrenched doubts about relationships. As if she was giving the idea serious consideration she squinted and looked upward and said with a nod, “You know ... I’m beginning to think the idea of becoming a ‘kept woman’ has a certain appeal.” She leaned forward and gestured for him to move closer to hear what she was about to say. “And that way you wouldn’t have to introduce me to your family ... all that formal, you know ... being proper and all ... we can just languish in bed.”

  He had to suppress a laugh. “They’ll know about you soon enough.”

  Her shoulders sagged and she pouted, feigning exasperation for a few seconds. “Now you want to go and get all ‘traditional’,” she said making quote marks in the air with her fingers. She glanced through the window at the glistening lake then surprised him by saying, “You know, you’ve more-or-less met half my family.” She could tell he hadn’t quite caught on and she added “El’s more like a sister ... Al’s more like a big brother.”

  Kirkland nodded and took her hand again and seemed to be studying it.

  She wondered what he was thinking and decided to prod him into saying more about the people in his life by suggesting again, “So, you already know half my family. You haven’t said much about yours.”

  As she paused he let go of her hand, took a sip of water then realized she expected him to say more. “Well, I’ve been somewhat distracted with ‘business’ in the past few days,” he said, mimicking her quote gesture. “Which has been interrupted, ‘wonderfully’, I must add,” he needled with the same gesture again.

  Her jaw set and she gave him a warning look but couldn’t keep from grinning for very long.

  “Sorry, I couldn’t resist,” he said.

  She ignored the phony apology and said, “You were about to say about your family—”

  “Oh, yes. I was distracted ... something about arousal, wasn’t it?” he taunted again.

  She glanced around again quickly to see if anyone in the now-busy café was within earshot and then whispered accusingly, “You have a one-track mind—”

  “I have no such thing,” he said defensively then closed his eyes. “It’s just that my memories are very vivid.”

  Catherine felt her body reacting to her own erotic memories of the prior night. She swallowed and said with renewed determination, “You were saying about your family.”

  Her almost comedic attempts at maintaining a stern look brought him back to the matter at hand. “Well, my father, Douglas, he was born and raised in South Africa, he was in the military, he flew in the Korean War then went back into his father’s mining equipment business.”

  She gave him a disappointed look as she thought about how perfunctory a son’s description of a father’s entire life could be. “What about your mother?”

  “My mother is from Long Island, she was an editor for a magazine and I believe she found a way to be permanently preserved in her sixties.”

  “You’re really good at the short-story version of life,” she said flatly then pursued the question. “You didn’t mention her name ...”

  Kirkland looked slightly embarrassed. “Oh ... Sarah, Sarah Boyd.”

  Something triggered a thought in Catherine’s mind about middle names. “Boyd? ... your middle initial is ‘C’ ... what’s the ‘C’?”

  Looking around as if ensuring no one would hear some dark secret Kirkland cleared his throat and whispered almost conspiratorially, “You must promise to never reveal, let alone use it.”

  Her eyebrows rose and she looked at him with an unsympathetic smirk. “That bad, eh?”

  “Well, no, not really ... it’s Cedric.”

  She scowled in confusion. “What’s wrong with—”

  Kirkland raised a hand. “Imagine being an American going through school in the U.K. with a middle name that actually came from a misspelling in Ivanhoe.”

  She didn’t entirely understand what that meant but grinned at his apparent distress and decided to change the subject back to family. “Do your folks live on Long Island?”

  Kirkland swallowed some of his drink and seemed to be addressing the glass after he set it down. “They did ... now they keep a condo and storage space ... it’s mostly a mailing address in one of those tornado magnets in Florida,” he said and almost chuckled. “They mostly live on a boat ... ‘snow birds’ ... north in the summer and south the rest of the time.”

  Oh good Lord, the family has a yacht, she imagined. The possibility of meeting them made her ask enthusiastically, “They’re near New York now? I could meet them when I come up?”

  He thought for a moment about the calendar. “Right about now they’re probably closer to Newfoundland. They go up for the salmon fishing.”

  Her surprise was apparent as she asked, “They’re fishing?”

  “Shoal Harbor is about forty-eight hours from the cove. They keep it to about twelve hours of cruising a day.”

  The idea of an older couple out on the ocean alone was alarming. “They’re out there alone? That sounds dangerous,” she admitted.

  “Not really,” Kirkland said. “My father went a little overboard on redundancy – pardon the pun. They have backup systems for everything ... and they take their time. They’ve done it before,” he said then listed off several of their favorite harbors and described a little more about what it was like on board.

  He deliberately left out anything to do with the roles the incredibly fast catamaran had played in two of his client scenarios since it had been launched. With its four diesels and two turbines at optimum power settings on smooth water in very cold weather, the exotic 140-foot craft had exceeded seventy-five knots; how far it could go above that speed was known only to his father and a team of two design engineers and a turbine specialist who had accompanied Douglas Kirkland on the speed trials.

  Catherine tried to imagine what the obviously adventurous couple’s life might be like and after the waiter delivered their lunches she began asking questions again in between bites of her chicken Caesar salad. “Your dad was from South Africa ... how did they meet?”

  Kirkland sprinkled some salt on the pile of French fries as he answered. “In London ... as I know the story, it was a train station. She was on an assignment and he was on a training exercise.” His smile grew as he added, “He became smitten with her almost instantly.” Seconds later he froze with one of the fries halfway to his mouth and announced seriously in a whisper as if it were a major scientific discovery, “It must be genetic.”

  With mocking sympathy Catherine said, “You poor thing.”

  He ignored the tease and began eating his club sandwich. Nodding and pointing at it he swallowed and mentioned, “This is really very good ... I was hungry.”

  Ignoring the attempt to change the subject she pressed on. “So they got married in the U.K.?”

  Kirkland took a sip of Perrier then said instructively, “No ... no, he was the smitten one ... not her. But they corresponded. A few years later he became thoroughly disenchanted with South Africa.” He shrugged and took another drink and thought before continuing. “The long and the short of it is he sold the family homestead and the business, came to the U.S., became a citizen and married her. I came along about a year later in 1958.”

  Catherine did some quick math. Thirty-nine. She put some additional pepper on her salad and waited for him to finish another section of his sandwich. When he didn’t offer any more details she prodded again, “Sisters and brothers?”

  He made an ‘um’ sound before taking a drink then answered, “I have a younger sister, a brother in law ... a terrific fellow, by the way, ah ... there are two obnoxious nephews and a darling niece in that family.” Pausing with a tip of his head he added, “And I consider Ben and his wife, Terri and their two little girls family.”

 
; With that tidbit of information she decided to switch the tack of the conversation. “What’s Terri like?”

  After a deep breath he said, “Well, her business card says ‘General Manager’ but an auditor for one of our clients referred to her as ‘The Dragon Lady’ and that just sort-of stuck.”

  Catherine sounded as dubious as she looked. “Dragon Lady?”

  “Yes. She’s all of about five two, maybe a hundred and ten pounds and about as deadly as a Labrador puppy ... oddly enough she actually could pass for part Japanese. And believe me, when it comes to numbers nothing gets by her ... economics and statistics are one thing but business accounting has vastly more serious consequences if it’s neglected.”

  “Or crooked,” Catherine said knowingly and decided not to further elaborate on what had happened with her husband’s schemes. Instead, she decided to steer back toward the subject of families without being too obvious. “What’s your sister’s name?”

  Around another bite of a French fry Kirkland nodded and answered, “Ah ... it’s Beth.”

  “And is she anything like El, always trying to find you the right significant other?”

  Kirkland couldn’t help smiling fondly about the connection between Catherine and Elanore and how lucky he had been to be introduced. “No, I guess not ... they live near D.C., but I don’t have to worry about her setting up blind dates when I stay with them.”

  “You’re in D.C. a lot?”

  “Umm,” he said nodding. “It’s actually convenient to have family there.” He focused on his sandwich for a moment but he sensed Catherine was struggling to find a way to ask a more important question and he decided to clear the air for her. “Yes, I was married.” Seeing no change in her expression he went on. “Until about five ... no, it’s been six years. And, no, I don’t have any children ... and believe it or not, she’s still quite close to Beth ... but don’t you think that sounds, her being close to my ex ... isn’t that kind of oddly familiar?”

  Catherine smiled at the coincidence that they shared an unusual sort of post-divorce in-law relationship. “At least you’re not in prison,” she offered rather pointedly then looked more serious. “How much have the Calders told you about my ex?”