Finding Himself Ch 04

~~~ 18 ~~~

Susan and I had talked fairly frequently, but other than meeting for lunch and one or two dinners, we hadn't planned anything out for the weekend. So her call was out of the blue.

"Ted, I'm sorry but could I ask you for a favor? I don't mean to bother you, so tell me if it isn't convenient, or if you don't want to..."

"Susan, stop with the pre-emptive apologies and just ask!" I replied, hoping that my voice carried the humor that I found in her approach.

"Could I come over and spend the weekend with you? I don't want to be here because I'm virtually certain that Joe is going to just show up and I'm not ready to have a serious talk with him yet."

I paused dramatically before answering, "Hmmmmm...Well, I suppose I can cancel the party, the live band, the dancing girls and tell them all to go home.

Yeah, sure, come on over. But this weekend may be pretty boring. I was just going to hang around here, take care of some bills and paperwork and catch up on things. But we can grill up some steaks and throw a couple of caprese salads together here."

"Oh thanks, honey. You are a lifesaver."

"Not a problem. When will your shadow lighten my doorstep?" I asked.

"Doesn't that go 'darken your doorstep'" Susan replied.

"Not in your case. You'll always be like the sunshine arriving on a cloudy day. But what time? I want to know if I have time to go shopping before you are going to arrive."

"Oh sure. I was going to go home first, pack a little bag and take a shower before I come over."

"You don't think that I'm capable of providing you with a first class shower?"

By this time Susan was laughing.

"You give the BEST showers and do I know it! I'll see you 6:30ish."

"Great; you have your key — just let yourself in."

It was just a couple minutes after 6:30 when I heard a key in the door.

"Ted? I'm here. Are you home?"

"In the kitchen, Susan. Come on in."

Susan must have put her overnight bag down in the entryway because she came right into the kitchen, put her arms around me and kissed the back of my neck.

"Do you have any sort of clue as to how good it is to have a friend you can count on?" she asked.

I smiled to myself with a little half-smile. Susan had hit the nail right on the head.

"I absolutely do and I remember you letting me cry on your shoulder on more than one occasion after Pam died." I managed to turn around while Susan maintained her hold on my waist. I leaned down a kissed her on the forehead. "It is the sort of things that good friends do for good friends, and you were there for me."

There were tears in Susan's eyes and I really hadn't intended to get her all sentimental on me, so I changed the subject.

"Where did you put your things. Let's get you settled into the bedroom and then we can start fixing dinner."

I returned to the entryway with her and picked up her little bag and as we walked towards the bedroom, I turned and just to tease her a bit I asked,

"I forgot to ask: do you want stay in the guest room?"

She punched me lightly in the arm again.

"Nooooo. Don't be funny. That would be too cruel. I want to wake up tomorrow in bed next to you."

"OK, OK. Just asking," I replied, without even breaking my stride towards the master bedroom.

Susan was dressed just perfectly for an evening at home. She had on a pair of capris, some open toed sandals, and a short sleeved blouse. Cool, casual and comfortable.

I had thawed out a couple of filet mignons for dinner and I'm perfectly willing to admit that I liberally steal techniques and methods from people who actually know what they are doing.

So the tenderloins were going to be cooked ala Alton Brown, grilled in a really hot pan for two minutes on a side then put into an oven preheated to 400 degrees (f) for six-to-seven minutes; but I'd also stolen the notion of putting a blue cheese/basil pesto combination on top of the steaks from Rachael Ray.

But, being the lazy sort of git that I am, I also borrowed from the semi-homemade lady, whose name escapes me at the moment, and I didn't make the basil pesto from scratch, instead I buy it at my favorite big-box store and just add in pre-crumbled blue cheese. And its done!

My great cooking discovery was, though, if you start out with a great prime grade cut of meat and don't screw it up by overcooking it, you can have a meal at home that rivals any but a couple of multi-star restaurants!

Susan was suitably impressed with dinner. She actually did most of the prep work making special 'on steroids' caprese salad, cutting the red onion slices, the heirloom tomatoes (ugly to look at, but oh so good tasting), and she both picked the fresh basil leaves from my basil plant sitting in the kitchen bay window (absolutely the total extent of my gardening ability) and tore them into pieces.

I assembled the salads, first putting down a layer of butter lettuce (yes, I know, a heresy) then the rest of the ingredients. I also cut up the mozzarella bufalo into pieces and THEN.... Hahaha! The pièce de résistance to prove that we lived in California — avocado slices. Finally a trick that I picked up from Pam, I used a combination of balsamic vinegar infused with fig and a drizzle of balsamic glaze — a reduction that adds a piquant sweetness.

Add to the steak and salad a couple of glasses of red wine and it made for a perfect dinner.

We cooked, we ate; we sat around the outside fireplace drinking wine and talking and had a great evening. It was not a huge romantic moment but we were very companionable. I chose to think it was both a reason to believe that Susan and I would always be the closest of friends but at the same time, that we would never be a romantically linked couple. We really liked each other, but I suspect even Susan knew, we didn't love each other. At least not the kind of love that commits two people to staying together for the rest of their lives.

"My god, Ted. I'm getting so spoilt spending time with you. That was delicious. And best of all, I didn't have to cook it!"

I sipped at my cup, then, "What makes you think that we are finished? I have desert too!"

"NO! You're kidding, right? What have you done? Made a baked Alaska or something?"

"No, dear heart, I'm not THAT ambitious. I just picked up some ice cream from the store."

"Yummy! What kind?"

"Its that 'Moose poops' stuff you like."

"Moose poops? What are you talking about?"

"You know, the ice cream that is basically vanilla, but with little brown pieces of moose shit thrown in, along with chocolate swirls."

"You idiot! Moose Poops my ass. 'Moose TRACKS'! I love Moose Tracks ice cream. Did you know it's my favorite?"

"I must have," I said with a smile, "Otherwise I wouldn't have bought it."

Needless to say, we finished our evening on a sweet note.

And that was before we made love for a couple of hours. After our weekend the month before, Susan knew just what she wanted and she wasn't afraid to ask for it. But after that we slept through until morning.

Susan spent Saturday there with me in the house, but we weren't doing anything very exciting.

I had a business plan that I had reviewed and I needed to speak with my client.

"So Wolfgang, I love the concept of the business and if your numbers are in the ball park, there's money to be made. I only have one question: how does your company fit in? If you are going to operate the business you are going to need to acquire a large piece of land with industrial zoning, with buildings, lots of cheap power and it has to be in the middle of nowhere. Noise issues, if nothing else.

"Second, this piece of equipment you want to have XYZ Fabrication build for you? So you pay for the initial prototype, you pay to make sure that it is operating as specified, but then how do you protect the concept? There is nothing unique to patent here as it's just a scaled up version, slightly modified, but basically still using existing technologies. So you sink $5 Million into the initial unit, and then XYZ starts producing them as a 'proven technology' for your competitors (and there will be competitors) for a fraction of what you paid for yours. I don't think you can tie them down legally to keep them or someone else from ripping off the idea.

"In short, I think that the money you are going to sink into this is not $5 million — more like $12 million. Check your ROI using my numbers. Will you have sufficient revenues with more than twice the upfront costs? Will your partners and investors accept a lower EBITDA hurdle rate? "I think that the best way for you to put a few dollars in your pocket is if you can get some other company to pay you a big consulting fee to put this together for THEM..."

So I spent a couple of hours that day doing business on the phone. And wonder of wonders: this was one of the somewhat rare cases where the customer ended up seeing my concerns about his plan and at the end of the day didn't sink his own money into it.

Susan sat in the living room reading a book and relaxing until I had finished my conference call.

.

"Is that what you do Ted? You know, in your consulting business?"

"Sometimes. If you remember, I have an undergrad degree in engineering and an MBA with an econ and finance emphasis. So it isn't uncommon for companies that are looking at expanding or acquiring new businesses to ask me to evaluate the costs and potential revenues for them — it's usually as a 'second opinion' sort of thing to make sure that their own finance people haven't overlooked some major expense, or if they have been sandbagged by the sellers with excessive revenue projections.

"But these days, most of my work is done on a volunteer basis for certain non-profits and is more strategic planning and determining how finance can support implementing those plans."

Susan laughed, "That is pretty damn cerebral. Joe usually spends his weekends doing chores around the house, maybe we see some friends, or watching sports on T.V."

"That's because Joe is a hard worker. I'm just too damn lazy to do a lot of those things, so I hire it out. Plus Joe is better and faster than I am doing things with his hands because he knows what he's doing. I would have to go slowly while I figure out what I'm supposed to do. What we do is different, but Joe is generally a good guy, you know."

"Except for walking out on me, you mean. Yes, I know he is very capable but he's put quite a dent in my trust with this 'finding himself' shit. Pardon my French!"

I smiled as I had some information to impart.

"Susan, just FYI, I have a couple of sources who frequent the bars where Joe and his buds fishing for action and they have been that have been keeping an eye on Joe for me. He may have been there looking for a little action, he hasn't been successful. I think that he is discovering that the singles scene isn't so attractive and that at the end of the day almost everyone out there would actually prefer to have that one special person to be with. I suspect that he will come to his senses pretty quickly. And in the meantime, well, you have had a little chance to explore yourself."

"Yes, I have. But I do hope that Joe gets over his mid-life crisis or whatever it is, quickly. I don't like being alone in an empty house or sleeping by myself, most nights anyway, in my bed."

That night, Susan did indeed sleep in my bed again, but it was a thoughtful Susan and all we did was cuddle and sleep.

After sleeping in Sunday morning we went out and had brunch.

"I'm going to go out and spend the day with my sister in Simi, and then I'm going home. I've got to do some grocery shopping on the way home or else I'm going to be going hungry this week. And if I don't do some laundry, I'm going to be wearing dirty clothes to work next week!"

We kissed and hugged as she left.

~~~ 19 ~~~

Inevitably things got back into a routine, however unsatisfying, for both Joe and Susan. They worked and they went home; but they both went home alone. Joe would periodically go out for drinks with a couple of his friends, while Susan might stop for a couple of drinks with the girls from work.

For the most part, the L.A. metropolitan area is big enough that they didn't run into each other, although one late afternoon, Joe did spot Susan and her friends going into a bar after work as he was leaving the parking lot in his car.

He almost thought about turning around and going back in to talk to Susan, but he didn't. He could see she was with her fellow paralegals from work. They were all about the same age and they were all married and they DIDN'T fool around, so he didn't feel worried or jealous.

He was looking forward to the coming weekend, but not because he was going out bar hopping again. He had gotten an invite from an old friend to go fly-fishing on the rivers around Bishop up the Owens Valley — one of Joe's favorite hobbies. Unfortunately, living in L.A. you have to travel some distance to find good rivers to fish in.

Joe didn't mind going out on a boat in the ocean, which he did two or three times a year, but fly-fishing was still his recreation of choice.

Joe had been out of the house for over a month and except for a few short phone calls hadn't even spoken to Susan. He'd gone back to the house several times, but she was always gone. He had the feeling that she was avoiding him. And he was correct: she was.

Susan had been spending a fair amount of her free time with me. Often we did make love. Susan was really enjoying exploring her new found sexual knowledge, but just as often we were just keeping each other company, talking and keeping her from being lonely.

Understand that I could never repay Susan for the time and patience and no other way to describe it: the love that she gave me after Pam died.

Susan called me that Saturday morning and asked me to meet her at my favorite coffee place. Her youngest daughter Pam, who was named after my late wife, was visiting for the weekend because she had a four-day holiday at school and would be staying with her.

They were already sitting at a table when I walked in. Once I had my coffee in hand I walked over and gave Susan a light kiss on her cheek before turning to her daughter.

"Pam, how are you? Oh my, you've grown up into a young woman and you're as pretty as your mother!"

Pam blushed. A family trait, I decided. "Oh stop that, Uncle Ted! You just like teasing me and mom."

"My dear young Pamela, I never tell an untruth — although I've been known to shade things some times. But that was the unvarnished truth. So tell me — how is school going?"

We sat there and talked for about an hour. School was going great and Pam would be finishing up her degree as one of the '

cum laudes

' by the end of the school year. No, she didn't know if she was going to go on to grad school. Asking, "Uncle Ted will it improve my chances of getting a job?" And so forth.

But I detected a certain reserve with Pam that I'd never felt before.

Susan finally got up. "Excuse us Ted, but we have some errands that we have to get done this morning. I'll call you and we can talk next week some time?"

"I look forward to it," I replied with a smile. Susan gave me a warm look that I noticed that Pam observed as well. We said our goodbyes and I gave both Susan and Pam hugs before we all left.

After I'd finished shopping I returned to my house. I'd put away the groceries that I'd picked up for the following week and had settled down at my computer to check out my normal news sites, when my ring tone sounded. (Chopin's Waltz in C# minor, if anyone is interested.)

It was Pam.

"Uncle Ted, it's me. I need to talk to you. I'm at the gate, can you give me the code?"

"Ask and ye shall receive," I replied, giving her the code sequence.

Minutes later I greeted Pam at the door.

"Come on in, but I warn you — if you want my advice, I'll just tell you now: don't take calculus if you can avoid it!" This was said with a grin since I knew that as a History major it was unlikely that Pam was considering taking Calculus in her last Quarter.

"Something to drink?" I asked.

"Sure, if you have a diet something..."

We settled in the kitchen, sitting at the table in the breakfast nook. Pam, like her mother was obviously anxious to ask me something, but finding it difficult to will her mouth to actually say the words.

"OK, young lady! Out with it! I know you've wanted to say SOMETHING since we were out for coffee this morning. Don't worry, I rarely bite."

"Well, you asked for it Uncle Ted," then she paused, "Are you trying to split my parents up?"

I just had to laugh at that.

"Just what do you think is so funny? That was a serious question, Uncle Ted."

"First, Pam: you are an adult almost through your undergrad degree, so I'm just 'Ted'. OK? But, honestly, what makes you even ask such a question?"

"Since I've been home with mom, it's always, 'Ted and I did this the other day, oh, Ted and I went there last week, Oh Ted and I this, that and everything!' It's like you're replacing my dad and I don't like it!"

"I can understand that, but how much of the story do you know?"

"None of it. Mom tells me to ask dad when I call him, he won't say anything at all to me. He tells me it's between him and mom."

I had to think that over a minute.

"Pam, in a way he is completely correct. But since I've found myself in the middle no matter what, let me tell you a little about what is going on.

"Your dad moving out on you mom had nothing to do with me and nothing to do with your mom. I think that he is going through a mid-life crisis and was feeling like he had to be out on his own for a while.

"If anything, I've been trying to keep your mom and dad together. When he first told me that he wanted to spend some time on his own, I argued against it. I tried to get him to maybe see a counselor or buy a 'Vette instead of moving out on your mom. He moved out anyway.

"I don't know if you remember back when my Pam passed away, but your mom was there for me when I was in grief and depression; when I didn't want to continue living. My kids were with me for about a week after the funeral, but then they had to go back home to their jobs and their lives. But for at least six-weeks, your mom was here for me every day. I think that she cooked every meal that I ate during that time. Well, except for when she ordered pizza in or picked up some fast food. But it was your mom who made sure that I ate.

"She would call to make sure that I got out of bed every morning. She would nag me to shower and shave. She was my most steadfast friend until I could stand up again on my own two feet.

"So when she found herself estranged from Joe, with none of it her fault, how could I do anything less for her? In fact, I haven't done nearly as much for her as she did for me because she is a stronger person. I've tried to provide her with companionship when she's needed it and tried to reassure her that she is still a beautiful and desirable woman who a man would be proud to be seen with."

"Wow! What did my dad do?" she asked, aghast at the implications.

"THAT, you have to ask your mom or him about.

"But," I continued, "I would like you to consider something: if I were not with your mother, then who else might be?"

"Oh my god! Instead of being with an old family friend, she could be out with some other man!"

"Or men," I added, "and that might end up with a rift between your mom and dad that couldn't be repaired. I don't think that your father considers me to be any sort of threat to their marriage. Which is true, by the way."

Pam was silent for a minute.

"I'm glad then. I'm glad that you've been there for mom and when I see dad I'm going to give him hell."

"Honestly," I told her, "I don't think that this will go on much longer. I suspect that he's going to be ready to come home any time now. Maybe you can encourage him and let him know that even if your mom is mad-as-hell at him, that she will take him back if he doesn't wait too long. Yeah, and let him know that there WILL BE a price to pay!" I laughed again, just imagining what penalty Susan might levy.