Only A Good Man Will Do
Only A Good Man Will Do
https://amzn.to/2q7ovi4
Dee S. Knight
Chapter One
“Look! It’s Mr. Goodman.” The young boy stage-whispered but didn’t bother to hide his incredulity. “I wonder why he’s sitting out here? He looks like he’s sleeping.”
The man on the bench knew his long legs stretched almost to the middle of the sidewalk, and he judged the kid stood practically on the toes of his boots, exposed below worn and faded jeans. His bristled chin rested on his flannel-encased arms, folded high on his chest. “NASCAR: Then, Now, Forever” emblazoned the cap pulled low on his face, and his hair brushed the back of his neck and tickled his ears. He figured he didn’t look too bad for someone who’d been up all night traveling to New Hampshire from South Carolina, but he wasn’t what these rich kids were used to.
“No, it’s not, dufus. Mr. Goodman wouldn’t be caught dead looking like that in public, and this guy looks too old. Besides, the first form boys haven’t been let out yet, so Mr. Goodman’s still in class.”
Firm, commanding. This kid sounded older—at least nine or ten.
Damn. Mr. Goodman wouldn’t be caught dead looking like him? Had no one ever arrived on the campus of Westover Academy dressed in jeans and flannel? Maybe he was blazing a trail.
And old? Hell, as one of triplets, he and Daniel were the same thirty-six years of age. The kid obviously needed glasses.
Meanwhile, the man fought the urge to smile as he listened to his two examiners.
One of the boys advanced to bend over and peek under the brim of the cap. His breath smelled like butterscotch.
“It is too Mr. Goodman. He’s my dormitory master, so I guess I know what he looks like,” the less fervent voice intoned with more confidence.
“Is not! Why would Mr. Goodman be sleeping outdoors on a bench like a bum? Headmaster wouldn’t allow it and Mr. Goodman has too much pride to look so … so … shabby.”
Why, the little shit! He’d like to bend the twerp over his knee and—
“Quite right, Mr. Wainwright. I certainly would not be sleeping on a bench dressed thusly.”
The man heard at least one gasp and the rapid shuffling of feet.
“Ha! I told you, Torrington, that this wasn’t Mr.—”
“And you were quite right, Mr. Torrington, when you insisted this poor example of a gentleman is Mr. Goodman. It’s not your fault you have the wrong Mr. Goodman.”
There, Wainwright! Take that, you big bully. Jonah Goodman thumbed the brim of his cap up high on his head to gaze at the boys and the tall man—his mirror image as far as facial features were concerned—standing behind them.
The boys shifted their stares between Jonah and his brother, Daniel, who was dressed in a way that surely pleased even young Mr. Wainwright. Trim, short hair gleamed in the sun. Although the afternoon wore on, there was no five o’clock shadow marring the sharp angles of his jaw. A black, wool, three-piece suit covered a pristine shirt, with a blood red and gray striped tie knotted under the chin. A flowing dark blue silk gown, opened in the front, topped all of that. Three orange velvet chevrons piped in dark blue satin striped the gown’s sleeves. Last but not least, if the sun shone just right, they could all be blinded by the reflection from Daniel’s shoes. And the hell of it was, Jonah suspected Daniel dressed like this every day.
What a way to live!
***
“Gentlemen,” Daniel said, addressing the boys. “May I present my brother?”
“Hello, sir.” The taller boy bowed slightly. Wainwright tended to push the propriety envelope, but Daniel had always felt the boy’s heart was in the right place. Lucky for him he wasn’t as much of a bully as his father, though he had all the tendencies.
The smaller boy practically bounced with unconcealed excitement.
“Is your hat about the racing cars, sir?”
Daniel hid his smile. He loved Torrington. The boy’s enthusiasm for life and adventure always reminded him of Jonah, in fact. But, in all things, Westover Academy demanded proper behavior. He lightly touched the boy’s shoulder and pursed his lips when Torrington looked up. Having been reminded he’d once again stepped out of bounds, Torrington heaved a sigh before turning back to face Jonah , this time more sedately.
The object of Torrington’s curiosity stretched his arms over his head, then scraped his hand over his roughened chin and leaned forward, elbows on his knees. Even sitting, Jonah and the boy didn’t meet gazes. Torrington was a long way from his growth spurt and his small size often earned him scorn even from those the same age. Another reason why Daniel had a soft spot for the boy.
“Hello, sir. Pleased to meet you.” Like Wainwright, Torrington dropped a quick bow before staring longingly at Jonah’s cap.
“Hello, men,” Jonah said in his deep, clear voice. The voice that sounded exactly like Daniel’s, but without the cultured tone and sophisticated verbiage. He addressed Torrington. “What’s your name, son?”
For a moment, the boy looked puzzled. “Torrington, sir.”
Jonah smiled. “No, I mean your real name. Whaduz your mama call you?”
Torrington’s face brightened and he opened his mouth to speak.
“Sweetie pie,” Wainwright interrupted in a taunting tone.
“Mr. Wainwright, please go to the dining hall and inform Miss Nilson that I will be absent for the evening meal.” There was no sharpness to Daniel’s tone, but the dismissal was unambiguous.
Wainwright looked unhappy that he would miss the remainder of the conversation, but he said, “Yes, sir,” turned on his heel and marched off.
“Now, Mr. Torrington, I believe you were asked your name.” Daniel touched his shoulder again, this time as a sign of support and permission.
“Yes, sir.” Torrington looked first to Daniel with respect in his eyes, then to Jonah with open interest. “It’s Jeffrey, sir.”
“Well, Jeff,” Jonah replied, removing his hat and handing it to Torrington to study up close. “You were right about this hat. It is about the racing cars and stuff. Do you like racing?”
“Oh, yes, sir.” His eyes glowed and he touched the satin-stitched, embroidered words with reverence. “I’ve only been to a race once. My Uncle Neil took me when we visited family down in South Carolina.”
“Why, Jeff, I believe you were at the racetrack near where I live, in Darlington. Did you like the race?”
“It was … wonderful! So loud, and fast. And my uncle bought me hot dogs and candy and even let me sip his beer—”
He jerked around and stared at Daniel in wide-eyed shock.
“I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone that.”
Daniel nodded sagely. “I can see why; it wasn’t a very good idea. But I don’t believe we need to say anything, do we Jonah?”
“Absolutely not.” Jonah winked at Torrington. “It’s a secret between us men.”
Torrington’s shoulders relaxed, and a grin crossed his face.
“Mr. Torrington, my brother is an ace mechanic. He works on those race cars. In fact, teams fight for him, he’s so good. So, when you visited Darlington, Mr. Goodman was most likely in the pits for one of the famous drivers.”
“Wow!” Torrington regarded Jonah with something close to hero worship. “Gosh, wow!”
Jonah chuckled. “I don’t do that work anymore, but I’d sure be happy to introduce you to a few of the drivers.”
He didn’t do that work any longer? Had Jonah left yet another position? The man had no staying power. Sighing inwardly, Daniel clucked his tongue.
“Yes, well. I suppose you’d better go along now. It’s almost time for lacrosse practice and you still must change.”
At the boy’s obvious reluctance to leave, Jonah added, “Hey, Jeff, you know how important sports are to us guys. Lacrosse is fun—you don’t want to be late.”
“No, sir—I mean yes, sir.”
He slowly handed back the cap and began to turn when he cast a quick glance at Daniel. Standing straight with hands folded in front, he looked at Jonah and politely said, “I enjoyed meeting you, Mr. Goodman.”
Jonah held out his hand, and, with another grin, Torrington took it for a manly shake.
“It was a pleasure, Jeff. You know, if I had another cap with me, I’d leave you this one. But I promise to send one up to you. And if your uncle ever brings you back to Darlington, let Daniel—uh, Mr. Goodman—know, and I’ll find some time to show you around.”
“Oh! Oh, sir.” In a rush, Torrington threw his arms around Jonah’s neck then dashed off before the surprised man could hug him back.
Jonah stood to face his brother squarely at last. He held out his hand again, and Daniel took it then pulled him up for a quick pat on the shoulders.
“What a kid,” Jonah said, watching Torrington flee across the grass fronting the administration building.
“His parents are deceased. His uncle has custody but he lives out in Oklahoma and the boy doesn't see him often.” Daniel sighed and shook his head. “He shouldn’t be running, and he especially shouldn’t be running on the grass. And if he was going to run on the grass, he shouldn’t be doing so in front of the administration building. He’s a good boy, but I see extra duties in Mr. Torrington’s future.”
“You won’t turn him in!”
“Lord, no! But there are eyes everywhere, and there are standards. At Westover Academy, as in life, there is a proper way to behave. Parents send their sons here for consistency, to have those standards of behavior applied and instilled, as well as to receive a first-class education.”
“Sounds boring as hell,” Jonah muttered.
“Yes, well…” Daniel turned away from the retreating figure of Torrington and led Jonah toward the dormitory where he had a kitchenette, a small sitting room, a bedroom, and bath in a building with thirty lower form boys.
Jonah jammed his hands in his pockets as he strolled beside Daniel. “What’s lacrosse, by the way?”
“A game with a net at the end of a stick. The ball moves down the field by being tossed from net to net. It can be pretty fast and sometimes kind of violent.”
Jonah’s face creased into a frown. “Jeff looked too young to be involved in something like that.”
“He’s not very good at it,” Daniel admitted, “but then none of the boys in his age group are, so they’re all equally safe. Mostly they miss the ball and spend their time simply running from one end of the field to the other.”
Jonah’s frown disappeared. Nothing bothered him for long. “That’s okay, then. You know, it’s pretty up here in the fall.”
“Yes, isn’t it? You came at the perfect time, too. Good thing you can stay with me. During foliage, when the leaves are turning, you can’t get a hotel room from here to Connecticut.”
“Oh, I can’t stay, Daniel. In fact, right after dinner I have to make the train to Boston so I can catch the six a.m. flight back to Charleston.”
Daniel stopped and spun toward his brother in amazement.
“What? Jonah, your note didn’t say you’d only be here a couple of hours. I would have made arrangements for someone to take my classes. We could have had more time. Jesus, it’s been two or three years since we’ve seen each other.”
With a concerted effort, he refrained from raking his hand through his hair, a nervous habit from childhood it had taken him years to break. His near relapse must be due to the emotion he felt seeing Jonah again. If it was true that a special bond existed between twins, then an even stronger tie bound the set of rare, identical triplets. And while he, Mark, and Jonah had gone their separate ways since high school—almost twenty years ago—he always felt incomplete when they weren’t in contact, as though a small piece of him was missing. Being with Jonah now made him realize how alone he was. Not for companionship, but for someone who understood the soul of him, without words or judgments or questions. No one did that but his brothers.
Jonah laid his hand on Daniel’s arm. “I know. I feel the same.” Their telepathic communication always surprised, and in some cases frightened, friends and relatives. But Jonah and Daniel took it as a matter of course.
They began walking again.
“What do you hear from Mark?” Daniel asked.
“Nothing much.” Jonah frowned. “Why don’t we stay in better touch?”
“Because we’re guys? I don’t know.”
“Well, as far as I know, Mark is still in Richmond, being a nerd.” Jonah flicked a leaf that had drifted into his hair to the ground.
“Still with that same finance company?”
“Hell, you probably know as much as I do. But gossiping about Mark is not why I came up. I came up to deliver a message. It’s something I didn’t think you should hear over the phone. It’s about Mom and Dad .”
Daniel stopped again and grabbed Jonah’s arm to halt his progress. “Oh, my God! They’re not—”
“No, sorry, no. Nothing like that.”
Daniel blew a breath of relief. “Then what could be so important you’d fly all the way to New Hampshire to tell me?”
Jonah grinned. “Well, Daniel, it’s like this.”
He pulled himself to his impressive full six feet two inches, clasped his hands in prayer and recited, “Friends, we are gathered here in the presence of God and this company, to witness—”
“What!?”
“Yeah! Isn’t it great? This November we can give thanks that our parents are finally getting married.”
Jonah, the idiot, grinned even wider, like a puppy who’d just been tossed a big old steak bone. Obviously, he didn’t understand the gravity of the situation.
“And they’re not keeping it quiet, either. Nope, they’re doing it up right. Turns out, one of the men who knew Mom from her days in show business—”
Daniel closed his eyes. “She was a stripper, Jonah, not a movie star.”
Jonah flapped his hand. “Whatever. Anyway, he’s arranged for them to use the country club. And you know Dad’s old friends at the bank never held his troubles against him—”
“His troubles? He stole money, Jonah. It was only because the bank president liked Dad and the money was returned that he didn’t spend hard time in federal prison.”
Jonah put a hand on his shoulder, thinking to calm him, no doubt. Too late for that.
“I know. But the fact remains, Dad’s well-liked, so they’ve got a big bachelor party planned.”
The groan he heard had to have come from him. His brother was having too much fun to make a sound filled with such angst.
“They’ve scheduled the whole shebang for over the Thanksgiving holidays. I don’t have to work and you won’t have school, so we can both be there. The local paper’s already featured them in the society section. Couple Finally Ties Knot After Thirty-Seven Years Together. Sons Serve As Witnesses. You should see them, Daniel. They’re like kids.”
Yes, he could just imagine. The stripper and the embezzler. Sounded like a farce from a burlesque show. Daniel frowned. How was it Jonah didn’t see the ridiculousness of the situation? Daniel loved his parents dearly, but really, what was the point in getting married now? Why hadn’t they committed to each other when it could have served some purpose? Like before their sons were born.
Life had always been like this for him. Calling his parents free spirits would meet no contradiction. His mother had “danced” in the top clubs all over the country, and even in Paris. His dad had met her in New York where he was attending a finance conference. They always told him and his brothers that they’d fallen in love immediately. Their mom had followed their dad back to Lucky Strike, North Carolina where he handled business accounts in a regional bank, and a few months later, Daniel, Mark, and Jonah had entered the world.
Unfortunately, a few years after that, a bank audit had revealed their dad had been regularly skimming from two or three accounts. Not much, only enough to tide them over now and then. “Takes a lot a money to raise three strong ‘good men’,” their dad had declared at the trial, and their mom had smiled at his pun, telling the boys later that their father was a “good man” and so were they, and they should never forget it.
Their dad waved and made funny faces through the window of the bus taking him to Cabarrus Correctional Center in Mt. Pleasant. (“Doesn’t that sound like Daddy is going to have a wonderful time?” their mother cooed in their four-year-old ears. “Who wouldn’t want to go to a place called Mt. Pleasant?”)
In the meantime, their mom put Captain Crunch on the table by going back to New York, where she was hailed and declared to be “the greatest exotic dancer in three decades.”
As children, they thought their mama danced in Broadway plays with loud music and lots of men in the audience, and their dad was teaching arithmetic to bad men in prison and having fun in a happy place called Mt. Pleasant. Not until years later, when teased by kids at school, did they ever see a different view of their life. By then, they’d moved back to Lucky Strike, where their dad joined them in a pretty little double-wide next to an apple orchard. The boys were spoiled on hugs and kisses and lots of apple cobbler.
When kids taunted them about having a criminal father and stripper mother, and that their parents weren’t even married, the boys sat down and discussed what they knew to be true. Their dad, a smiling, hardworking man, managed the orchard next to them and three others besides, but still found time to toss a football and tell corny old jokes during dinner. Their beautiful, graceful mother made them laugh instead of cry when they had scrapes and bruises, and always sang when she cooked, using fancy little dance steps when she moved from the sink to the stove. They didn’t know for sure if their parents were married, but there was no question but that they loved each other, and Daniel, Mark, and Jonah.
Jonah settled the taunts with his fists or by brushing off the insults. Daniel blotted out the jeers by reciting a poem or the multiplication tables to himself and then withdrawing into books. Mark, genius as he was, might not even have understood the snide comments. The effect was that he looked down his nose at the bullies and blithely showed them up in every classroom subject.
As he withdrew from the taunts and jeers at school, Daniel withdrew from his family, too. Years later, he realized how different from his parents and brothers he’d become. Serious and more sensitive than he cared to admit, he found himself the lonely outsider in a family of carefree extroverts. Even Mark was more easygoing. By the time Daniel wanted to be more like them he didn’t know how, so he moved into a world where he felt more comfortable.
The strange thing was that, despite their past, his parents were well-liked—his dad respected and his mom embraced by the town. They were happy and still in love. Nothing had changed. So why did they feel the need to marry, something sure to draw gossip again? He knew no one would understand how he felt—what else was new?—but he couldn’t help wondering why now, when their actions would cause irreparable damage to his career, just as he was reaching the pinnacle of his dreams?
Daniel was so engrossed in his internal analysis that he almost missed the bombshell.
“The reporter said the story had enough appeal to attract international attention. Mom and Dad are both kind of famous, after all,” Jonah chuckled. “Won’t they get a kick out of that? Having their story on cable news?”
“No!”
Daniel hoped no one saw him, looking as though he’d had the worst shock of his life. Which, of course, he had.
The blood drained from his face, his eyes popped open wide, and so did his mouth. He’d probably laugh if he could see himself. Or maybe not. This was horrible.
His parents were getting married on international TV.
Chapter Two
Daniel drove Jonah to a restaurant in the village, not far from Westover Academy, and parked his Volvo in the cobblestone lot’s only vacant space. Judging from the building’s exterior, Freddie’s Tavern had once been a roomy clapboard home. The entrance led downstairs to a dark, paneled room. The after-work crowd gathered for drinks; some unwinding, others networking. A muted, wall-mounted TV aired a news program with stock market results ticker-taping the bottom of the screen.
Daniel led him past the bar to the hostess.
“Two for dinner, please.”
Jonah removed his NASCAR cap.
“Guess I’m underdressed, bro.”
“No, this is a casual place.”
Jonah knew better. In the south, flannel shirts and blue jeans worked in most restaurants. He’d even gone to church dressed this way, although only to the contemporary service. But this was New Hampshire, the heart of New England, home to bluebloods, not rednecks. He smiled, thinking of the picture he and Daniel presented. Daniel was the polished, finished version of Jonah, right down to the perfect eyebrows and flawless hair. Jonah had a scar over one eye from a childhood daredevil stunt, a mechanic’s rough hands, and nails severely trimmed to prevent them from collecting grease.
“Your waitress will be right with you.” The hostess stopped beside a small table draped in white linen and handed them tall menus. “The special this evening is veal scaloppini.”
“Thank you,” Daniel answered.
Jonah claimed the chair opposite him. “Veal scaloppini, eh? Sounds great.”
Daniel reached for the wine list with his perfectly manicured hand. “How about a nice—”
“Samuel Adams. I’m dying for a longneck.”
Clearing his throat, Daniel abandoned the wine menu. “They have it on draught.”
Jonah took the hint. God forbid Daniel be seen with his brother guzzling beer from a bottle.
“Great.”
The perky waitress, a college student he’d guess, arrived with a pitcher of iced water, and filled their goblets.
“You guys care for a drink before dinner?”
Daniel answered. “Two Sam Adams. I think we’re ready to order, too.”
They each ordered the special. The red-haired waitress collected their menus and disappeared.
“You ready to tell me why you were apoplectic earlier about our parents getting hitched?” Jonah asked.
Daniel’s eyes widened and he glanced around the room.
“Lower your voice, please.”
Jonah choked back laughter at the stricken look on his brother’s face.
“Why?”
“Discretion is important at a place like Westover. What would the parents say, or the board of directors, if they—”
“If they what? See your parents married on television? It has nothing to do with you or your proper conduct. You’re just attending the wedding—”
“I can’t. You don’t understand the situation, Jonah.”
Daniel exhaled a long, weary sigh.
Jonah almost sympathized with his brother’s distress. Almost.
“You’re right, I don’t understand. The three of us are their only children. They love us unconditionally. How can you even consider skipping out on something so important to them?”
“And I love them unconditionally. My not attending the wedding of the century isn’t going to change that, and they know it. Besides, it’s assumed that my parents are married. That is the proper order of things in a civilized society.”
He stared off into space for a moment, then looked back.
“Furthermore, I found out last month that I’m being considered for the position of headmaster of the school. Headmaster! Do you have any idea how hard I’ve worked—”
“To become a class A prig? Christ, Daniel, listen to yourself.”
“No, you listen. I love Mom and Dad, and I know they’re good people. But the perception of them is the issue. Dad may be the most lovable man in the world, but is that going to be the focus of the TV reports? No, it’ll be that, no matter what spin you put on it, he’s still an ex-con embezzler.”
“He paid his debt to society—”
“And while I’d vote for Mom to be Mother of the Year, she was a stripper, and a famous one. You can’t expect that’s going to be overlooked.”
“Exotic dancer. She also gave birth to us—”
“Without benefit of a marriage license, which makes the three of us illegitimate. And there we’ll be, smiling in the background like Tweedledum, Tweedledee, and Tweedlenerd. Their backgrounds and our legitimacy are now going to be blasted internationally.”
Was this guy for real? Is this what happened when they stayed apart too long? Jonah needed to spend quality time with his anal-retentive brother, loosen him up a bit.
“Bastards, huh? Well, it makes us lucky bastards, if you ask me. Who could ask for more loving, devoted parents?”
“I don’t argue that. But why the spectacle? Why, after almost thirty-seven years, do they have to publicly flaunt their indiscretion and embarrass—” Daniel stopped, as if sensing he’d said too much.
“Are you saying you’re ashamed of our parents?”
“I’m not! Not exactly.” Daniel sighed and rubbed his temple. “It’s complicated. There are things you don’t—”
The waitress saved Daniel from answering further by delivering their drinks. She placed two pilsner glasses at each place setting—Happy Hour.
Jonah needed both beers. One to quench his thirst and one to wash down the load of crap Daniel had just fed him. What had happened to the fun-loving brother who’d shared so many adventures with him? They’d never been well-off financially as kids, but they had a wealth of good memories. Was it too late to recapture that camaraderie? He had to try. No way he’d disappoint Mom and Dad with a no-show brother.
Changing his approach, Jonah said, “She sort of looks like Kelly Shepherd, doesn’t she?”
“Who, the waitress?”
“Yeah. Picture her with lighter, longer hair, and eyeglasses.”
“Kelly Shepherd. You mean our senior class president, back in high school? Jesus, I hardly remember anyone from high school.”
No surprise there. Daniel seemed to have abandoned everything from his past. He hadn’t been home to Lucky Strike, North Carolina, since two years ago last Christmas.
Jonah, on the other hand, remembered Kelly too well. She’d never forgiven him, not that he blamed her. Or had she? Jonah had been home for graduation, but she’d disappeared soon thereafter. He hadn’t had contact with her since. For all he knew, she was probably dumpy and dowdy now.
Daniel snapped his fingers.
“I’ve got it! Kelly Shepherd! Strawberry blond hair, big green eyes, and a nice set of—”
“Yeah. Don’t forget the freckles and skinny legs.”
Daniel grinned.
“You didn’t complain about her skinny legs when you two were going together. You took her to the homecoming game, right? And the dance after?”
So, he did remember.
“We double-dated.”
Daniel sipped his beer.
“We had just the one car, if you could classify that heap as a car.”
“Heap? It was a one-of-a-kind classic. Nobody else had an AMC Pacer with a 327 Corvette engine. Manual fuel injection, too. That baby would run!”
“When it ran at all.”
Jonah chuckled.
“Okay, maybe it was temperamental, but we had a lot of good times in that Pacer.”
“We had a lot of fun building it, too,” Daniel said. “We were the star pupils in shop class.”
“The three of us are a good team.”
Or were. He hoped the trip down memory lane would rekindle Daniel’s nostalgia for family and home.
“Now that I think about it, you had all the fun that particular night. Left me stranded with Marilyn Taylor at the homecoming dance. Wasn’t that the night you ... you know.”
“Lost my cherry?”
Jonah hid a grin behind his pilsner glass at Daniel’s grimace.
“That’s one way of putting it. With Kelly Shepherd. Right, it’s coming back to me now. Later, I begged you for details and you claimed there wasn’t much to it.”
That was the problem. There hadn’t been much to it. Thanks to his inexperience and hormones, Jonah managed to score but only after fumbling. He’d been too embarrassed to face Kelly afterward. She’d called him a dickhead, which shocked the hell out of him since she never spoke crudely, further proof of how much he’d upset her. Or disappointed her. He’d never been clear on her exact feelings since he’d dropped out of school shortly after the fiasco and moved down to South Carolina to live with his uncle.
He’d all but forgotten her until he’d seen the resemblance in the tavern waitress. Who was he kidding? He could never forget Kelly Shepherd. Even after all these years and a number of women. Although his sexual prowess had improved, his women had not. None held a candle to the intelligent, pretty Kelly. Adding insult to injury, he’d not only lost a high school sweetheart but a good friend, too.
“Whatever happened to you two, anyway? At one point you were inseparable—until after homecoming.”
Jonah took his time, drinking a long swallow of his Sam Adams.
“I think we were just too immature for sex. Of course, I didn’t believe so at the time. So what about Marilyn Taylor? You took her to the prom, too, right?”
“We were friends. I was comfortable around her because we weren’t trying to impress each other. Less pressure. And who did Mark take?”
“No one. Mark wasn’t into things like school dances. By then he was concerned with theoretical mathematics and unconcerned with girls.”
“That’s right.” Daniel rotated his pilsner, drawing a line in the condensation. “You know I was jealous as hell of you.”
“No, I didn’t know. Why?”
“You got laid first.” His grin broadened. “You and I may be identical, but I never had your smooth charm with the ladies.”
Jonah ignored the charm reference. “You have anyone special up here?”
“No. It’s not easy. I don’t exactly see a lot of women at a boys’ academy.”
“You get lonely?”
Daniel held his gaze. “Do you?”
“Yeah, I do. That’s why I’m asking. Over the years it seems we go through various stages in life at about the same time.” Jonah paused to give his brother a minute to tune in. “You are lonely without a woman. Admit it.”
“I’ll admit it. The living quarters at the school are great, don’t get me wrong. But how do you entertain a lady friend in a dormitory full of boys?”
“Major Payne did it.”
“Who?”
Jonah sighed. He doubted Daniel knew Damon Wayans or any of his films.
“It’s a movie. Never mind. I have my own place but can’t seem to find the right woman.”
“Really, Jonah. I’ve watched NASCAR. You have nearly as much celebrity as the drivers. Women throw their motel keys at you.”
An exaggeration, but Jonah wasn’t going to debate the issue. He didn’t want his brother’s envy. He wanted him to come home for Thanksgiving and the wedding, to be part of the family again. Besides, he’d outgrown the NASCAR groupies scene.
“Threw their keys. I must be getting pickier in my old age.”
“Speak for yourself,” Daniel said. “I’m not admitting to middle age yet, and certainly not to old age.”
But Daniel already seemed far too old.
“Not middle age? You drive a Volvo station wagon, for Chrissakes.”
What pushed Daniel to be staid and proper? True, he’d been the more serious brother growing up, but never Volvo-driving-serious. At least he could’ve bought a Jaguar or something a tad younger and sportier.
Daniel shook his head. “I see you’re still doing it.”
“Doing what?”
“Judging people by their vehicles. Not everyone follows your automotive mentality.”
“They don’t?” Jonah deadpanned.
Daniel shook his head. “And why have you given up NASCAR? I thought you loved it.”
“Been there, done that. Ready to try something new.”
“One of these days you’ll have to commit to something, brother.”
“Maybe, but not today.”
Their dinner arrived, derailing further conversation about women, family, cars, or old girlfriends. Surreptitiously checking his watch, Jonah renewed his determination to lure Daniel to their parents’ wedding. He’d have to be careful, though. Daniel could be a stubborn ass sometimes. Just like his brothers.
***
With a disquiet feeling, Daniel dropped Jonah off at the station just minutes before the train for Boston arrived.
“Take care,” he said. “Let’s not go so long without talking.”
Jonah took him in a hug and slapped his back.
“Let’s not go so long without seeing each other. Like next month at home at Thanksgiving.”
Daniel frowned. “Don’t count on it, Jonah. But don’t worry. I’ll call Mom and Dad and let them know I won’t be there. You came up to do the asking. I won’t make you the bearer of bad news.”
“Daniel, I’m not above bribery to get you there. Or guilting you.”
Daniel snorted a laugh. “You can try but I daresay it won’t work.”
Jonah stared at his brother for long seconds and then shrugged. “Well, can’t blame a man for trying.”
“Nope, can’t blame you. I hope eventually you can understand my side of things.”
The look on his brother’s face was all the evidence he needed to know that, true to form, Jonah would never understand. Fuck it. He could only be who he could be.
The train pulled into the station, initiating a spurt of people rushing toward the doors.
“Better get on and get a good seat. Hope you make all your connections for your flight home.”
Now that he knew where he stood in Jonah’s estimation, Daniel was ready for his brother to hurry back to his part of the country and leave Daniel in his. Obviously they were worlds apart, and never the twain shall meet.
***
“Mr. Goodman?”
Daniel looked up from his desk where he sat grading papers.
“Mr. Torrington, you should be asleep. Do you feel unwell?”
He rose and went to the open doorway where Jeffrey Torrington stood, looking a mess. His slippers were on the wrong feet and his bathrobe hung half open, showing that his pajama top was buttoned incorrectly. Daniel sighed. Some housemasters would give him demerits for sloppiness, even around the dorm, and maybe for the older boys—those the age of his students—it would be warranted. But not for Jeffrey. He was just a second grader, for God’s sake. To his way of thinking, the kids his age shouldn’t even be in a residential school. They should still be home with their mothers.
Torrington shook his head. “I’m just worried, sir.”
“What are you worried about, Mr. Torrington?”
Daniel opened the boy’s robe and rebuttoned his pajama top. Then he retied the robe and led Torrington in to sit on the sofa where he reversed his slippers.
“Do you think Mr. Goodman will forget to send the NASCAR cap, sir?”
That was what worried the kid?
“I don’t think so, Mr. Torrington. He won’t be home for a day or two but he’s good about fulfilling his promises. Don’t you worry. He’ll send the cap.”
The boy heaved a sigh and twisted his hands in his lap.
“Thank you, sir!”
Daniel fought a smile.
“Think you can sleep now?”
Jeffrey nodded so hard he nearly knocked himself off the edge of the sofa.
“Yes, sir. I’ll go and do it right now!”
“Good man! I’ll see you at breakfast then.”
The boy tore off up the hallway.
“No running,” Daniel murmured, knowing it did no good. The boy was just a … boy, after all.
Settling at the desk again, he continued on with his paperwork.
https://amzn.to/2q7ovi4
Dee S. Knight
Chapter One
“Look! It’s Mr. Goodman.” The young boy stage-whispered but didn’t bother to hide his incredulity. “I wonder why he’s sitting out here? He looks like he’s sleeping.”
The man on the bench knew his long legs stretched almost to the middle of the sidewalk, and he judged the kid stood practically on the toes of his boots, exposed below worn and faded jeans. His bristled chin rested on his flannel-encased arms, folded high on his chest. “NASCAR: Then, Now, Forever” emblazoned the cap pulled low on his face, and his hair brushed the back of his neck and tickled his ears. He figured he didn’t look too bad for someone who’d been up all night traveling to New Hampshire from South Carolina, but he wasn’t what these rich kids were used to.
“No, it’s not, dufus. Mr. Goodman wouldn’t be caught dead looking like that in public, and this guy looks too old. Besides, the first form boys haven’t been let out yet, so Mr. Goodman’s still in class.”
Firm, commanding. This kid sounded older—at least nine or ten.
Damn. Mr. Goodman wouldn’t be caught dead looking like him? Had no one ever arrived on the campus of Westover Academy dressed in jeans and flannel? Maybe he was blazing a trail.
And old? Hell, as one of triplets, he and Daniel were the same thirty-six years of age. The kid obviously needed glasses.
Meanwhile, the man fought the urge to smile as he listened to his two examiners.
One of the boys advanced to bend over and peek under the brim of the cap. His breath smelled like butterscotch.
“It is too Mr. Goodman. He’s my dormitory master, so I guess I know what he looks like,” the less fervent voice intoned with more confidence.
“Is not! Why would Mr. Goodman be sleeping outdoors on a bench like a bum? Headmaster wouldn’t allow it and Mr. Goodman has too much pride to look so … so … shabby.”
Why, the little shit! He’d like to bend the twerp over his knee and—
“Quite right, Mr. Wainwright. I certainly would not be sleeping on a bench dressed thusly.”
The man heard at least one gasp and the rapid shuffling of feet.
“Ha! I told you, Torrington, that this wasn’t Mr.—”
“And you were quite right, Mr. Torrington, when you insisted this poor example of a gentleman is Mr. Goodman. It’s not your fault you have the wrong Mr. Goodman.”
There, Wainwright! Take that, you big bully. Jonah Goodman thumbed the brim of his cap up high on his head to gaze at the boys and the tall man—his mirror image as far as facial features were concerned—standing behind them.
The boys shifted their stares between Jonah and his brother, Daniel, who was dressed in a way that surely pleased even young Mr. Wainwright. Trim, short hair gleamed in the sun. Although the afternoon wore on, there was no five o’clock shadow marring the sharp angles of his jaw. A black, wool, three-piece suit covered a pristine shirt, with a blood red and gray striped tie knotted under the chin. A flowing dark blue silk gown, opened in the front, topped all of that. Three orange velvet chevrons piped in dark blue satin striped the gown’s sleeves. Last but not least, if the sun shone just right, they could all be blinded by the reflection from Daniel’s shoes. And the hell of it was, Jonah suspected Daniel dressed like this every day.
What a way to live!
***
“Gentlemen,” Daniel said, addressing the boys. “May I present my brother?”
“Hello, sir.” The taller boy bowed slightly. Wainwright tended to push the propriety envelope, but Daniel had always felt the boy’s heart was in the right place. Lucky for him he wasn’t as much of a bully as his father, though he had all the tendencies.
The smaller boy practically bounced with unconcealed excitement.
“Is your hat about the racing cars, sir?”
Daniel hid his smile. He loved Torrington. The boy’s enthusiasm for life and adventure always reminded him of Jonah, in fact. But, in all things, Westover Academy demanded proper behavior. He lightly touched the boy’s shoulder and pursed his lips when Torrington looked up. Having been reminded he’d once again stepped out of bounds, Torrington heaved a sigh before turning back to face Jonah , this time more sedately.
The object of Torrington’s curiosity stretched his arms over his head, then scraped his hand over his roughened chin and leaned forward, elbows on his knees. Even sitting, Jonah and the boy didn’t meet gazes. Torrington was a long way from his growth spurt and his small size often earned him scorn even from those the same age. Another reason why Daniel had a soft spot for the boy.
“Hello, sir. Pleased to meet you.” Like Wainwright, Torrington dropped a quick bow before staring longingly at Jonah’s cap.
“Hello, men,” Jonah said in his deep, clear voice. The voice that sounded exactly like Daniel’s, but without the cultured tone and sophisticated verbiage. He addressed Torrington. “What’s your name, son?”
For a moment, the boy looked puzzled. “Torrington, sir.”
Jonah smiled. “No, I mean your real name. Whaduz your mama call you?”
Torrington’s face brightened and he opened his mouth to speak.
“Sweetie pie,” Wainwright interrupted in a taunting tone.
“Mr. Wainwright, please go to the dining hall and inform Miss Nilson that I will be absent for the evening meal.” There was no sharpness to Daniel’s tone, but the dismissal was unambiguous.
Wainwright looked unhappy that he would miss the remainder of the conversation, but he said, “Yes, sir,” turned on his heel and marched off.
“Now, Mr. Torrington, I believe you were asked your name.” Daniel touched his shoulder again, this time as a sign of support and permission.
“Yes, sir.” Torrington looked first to Daniel with respect in his eyes, then to Jonah with open interest. “It’s Jeffrey, sir.”
“Well, Jeff,” Jonah replied, removing his hat and handing it to Torrington to study up close. “You were right about this hat. It is about the racing cars and stuff. Do you like racing?”
“Oh, yes, sir.” His eyes glowed and he touched the satin-stitched, embroidered words with reverence. “I’ve only been to a race once. My Uncle Neil took me when we visited family down in South Carolina.”
“Why, Jeff, I believe you were at the racetrack near where I live, in Darlington. Did you like the race?”
“It was … wonderful! So loud, and fast. And my uncle bought me hot dogs and candy and even let me sip his beer—”
He jerked around and stared at Daniel in wide-eyed shock.
“I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone that.”
Daniel nodded sagely. “I can see why; it wasn’t a very good idea. But I don’t believe we need to say anything, do we Jonah?”
“Absolutely not.” Jonah winked at Torrington. “It’s a secret between us men.”
Torrington’s shoulders relaxed, and a grin crossed his face.
“Mr. Torrington, my brother is an ace mechanic. He works on those race cars. In fact, teams fight for him, he’s so good. So, when you visited Darlington, Mr. Goodman was most likely in the pits for one of the famous drivers.”
“Wow!” Torrington regarded Jonah with something close to hero worship. “Gosh, wow!”
Jonah chuckled. “I don’t do that work anymore, but I’d sure be happy to introduce you to a few of the drivers.”
He didn’t do that work any longer? Had Jonah left yet another position? The man had no staying power. Sighing inwardly, Daniel clucked his tongue.
“Yes, well. I suppose you’d better go along now. It’s almost time for lacrosse practice and you still must change.”
At the boy’s obvious reluctance to leave, Jonah added, “Hey, Jeff, you know how important sports are to us guys. Lacrosse is fun—you don’t want to be late.”
“No, sir—I mean yes, sir.”
He slowly handed back the cap and began to turn when he cast a quick glance at Daniel. Standing straight with hands folded in front, he looked at Jonah and politely said, “I enjoyed meeting you, Mr. Goodman.”
Jonah held out his hand, and, with another grin, Torrington took it for a manly shake.
“It was a pleasure, Jeff. You know, if I had another cap with me, I’d leave you this one. But I promise to send one up to you. And if your uncle ever brings you back to Darlington, let Daniel—uh, Mr. Goodman—know, and I’ll find some time to show you around.”
“Oh! Oh, sir.” In a rush, Torrington threw his arms around Jonah’s neck then dashed off before the surprised man could hug him back.
Jonah stood to face his brother squarely at last. He held out his hand again, and Daniel took it then pulled him up for a quick pat on the shoulders.
“What a kid,” Jonah said, watching Torrington flee across the grass fronting the administration building.
“His parents are deceased. His uncle has custody but he lives out in Oklahoma and the boy doesn't see him often.” Daniel sighed and shook his head. “He shouldn’t be running, and he especially shouldn’t be running on the grass. And if he was going to run on the grass, he shouldn’t be doing so in front of the administration building. He’s a good boy, but I see extra duties in Mr. Torrington’s future.”
“You won’t turn him in!”
“Lord, no! But there are eyes everywhere, and there are standards. At Westover Academy, as in life, there is a proper way to behave. Parents send their sons here for consistency, to have those standards of behavior applied and instilled, as well as to receive a first-class education.”
“Sounds boring as hell,” Jonah muttered.
“Yes, well…” Daniel turned away from the retreating figure of Torrington and led Jonah toward the dormitory where he had a kitchenette, a small sitting room, a bedroom, and bath in a building with thirty lower form boys.
Jonah jammed his hands in his pockets as he strolled beside Daniel. “What’s lacrosse, by the way?”
“A game with a net at the end of a stick. The ball moves down the field by being tossed from net to net. It can be pretty fast and sometimes kind of violent.”
Jonah’s face creased into a frown. “Jeff looked too young to be involved in something like that.”
“He’s not very good at it,” Daniel admitted, “but then none of the boys in his age group are, so they’re all equally safe. Mostly they miss the ball and spend their time simply running from one end of the field to the other.”
Jonah’s frown disappeared. Nothing bothered him for long. “That’s okay, then. You know, it’s pretty up here in the fall.”
“Yes, isn’t it? You came at the perfect time, too. Good thing you can stay with me. During foliage, when the leaves are turning, you can’t get a hotel room from here to Connecticut.”
“Oh, I can’t stay, Daniel. In fact, right after dinner I have to make the train to Boston so I can catch the six a.m. flight back to Charleston.”
Daniel stopped and spun toward his brother in amazement.
“What? Jonah, your note didn’t say you’d only be here a couple of hours. I would have made arrangements for someone to take my classes. We could have had more time. Jesus, it’s been two or three years since we’ve seen each other.”
With a concerted effort, he refrained from raking his hand through his hair, a nervous habit from childhood it had taken him years to break. His near relapse must be due to the emotion he felt seeing Jonah again. If it was true that a special bond existed between twins, then an even stronger tie bound the set of rare, identical triplets. And while he, Mark, and Jonah had gone their separate ways since high school—almost twenty years ago—he always felt incomplete when they weren’t in contact, as though a small piece of him was missing. Being with Jonah now made him realize how alone he was. Not for companionship, but for someone who understood the soul of him, without words or judgments or questions. No one did that but his brothers.
Jonah laid his hand on Daniel’s arm. “I know. I feel the same.” Their telepathic communication always surprised, and in some cases frightened, friends and relatives. But Jonah and Daniel took it as a matter of course.
They began walking again.
“What do you hear from Mark?” Daniel asked.
“Nothing much.” Jonah frowned. “Why don’t we stay in better touch?”
“Because we’re guys? I don’t know.”
“Well, as far as I know, Mark is still in Richmond, being a nerd.” Jonah flicked a leaf that had drifted into his hair to the ground.
“Still with that same finance company?”
“Hell, you probably know as much as I do. But gossiping about Mark is not why I came up. I came up to deliver a message. It’s something I didn’t think you should hear over the phone. It’s about Mom and Dad .”
Daniel stopped again and grabbed Jonah’s arm to halt his progress. “Oh, my God! They’re not—”
“No, sorry, no. Nothing like that.”
Daniel blew a breath of relief. “Then what could be so important you’d fly all the way to New Hampshire to tell me?”
Jonah grinned. “Well, Daniel, it’s like this.”
He pulled himself to his impressive full six feet two inches, clasped his hands in prayer and recited, “Friends, we are gathered here in the presence of God and this company, to witness—”
“What!?”
“Yeah! Isn’t it great? This November we can give thanks that our parents are finally getting married.”
Jonah, the idiot, grinned even wider, like a puppy who’d just been tossed a big old steak bone. Obviously, he didn’t understand the gravity of the situation.
“And they’re not keeping it quiet, either. Nope, they’re doing it up right. Turns out, one of the men who knew Mom from her days in show business—”
Daniel closed his eyes. “She was a stripper, Jonah, not a movie star.”
Jonah flapped his hand. “Whatever. Anyway, he’s arranged for them to use the country club. And you know Dad’s old friends at the bank never held his troubles against him—”
“His troubles? He stole money, Jonah. It was only because the bank president liked Dad and the money was returned that he didn’t spend hard time in federal prison.”
Jonah put a hand on his shoulder, thinking to calm him, no doubt. Too late for that.
“I know. But the fact remains, Dad’s well-liked, so they’ve got a big bachelor party planned.”
The groan he heard had to have come from him. His brother was having too much fun to make a sound filled with such angst.
“They’ve scheduled the whole shebang for over the Thanksgiving holidays. I don’t have to work and you won’t have school, so we can both be there. The local paper’s already featured them in the society section. Couple Finally Ties Knot After Thirty-Seven Years Together. Sons Serve As Witnesses. You should see them, Daniel. They’re like kids.”
Yes, he could just imagine. The stripper and the embezzler. Sounded like a farce from a burlesque show. Daniel frowned. How was it Jonah didn’t see the ridiculousness of the situation? Daniel loved his parents dearly, but really, what was the point in getting married now? Why hadn’t they committed to each other when it could have served some purpose? Like before their sons were born.
Life had always been like this for him. Calling his parents free spirits would meet no contradiction. His mother had “danced” in the top clubs all over the country, and even in Paris. His dad had met her in New York where he was attending a finance conference. They always told him and his brothers that they’d fallen in love immediately. Their mom had followed their dad back to Lucky Strike, North Carolina where he handled business accounts in a regional bank, and a few months later, Daniel, Mark, and Jonah had entered the world.
Unfortunately, a few years after that, a bank audit had revealed their dad had been regularly skimming from two or three accounts. Not much, only enough to tide them over now and then. “Takes a lot a money to raise three strong ‘good men’,” their dad had declared at the trial, and their mom had smiled at his pun, telling the boys later that their father was a “good man” and so were they, and they should never forget it.
Their dad waved and made funny faces through the window of the bus taking him to Cabarrus Correctional Center in Mt. Pleasant. (“Doesn’t that sound like Daddy is going to have a wonderful time?” their mother cooed in their four-year-old ears. “Who wouldn’t want to go to a place called Mt. Pleasant?”)
In the meantime, their mom put Captain Crunch on the table by going back to New York, where she was hailed and declared to be “the greatest exotic dancer in three decades.”
As children, they thought their mama danced in Broadway plays with loud music and lots of men in the audience, and their dad was teaching arithmetic to bad men in prison and having fun in a happy place called Mt. Pleasant. Not until years later, when teased by kids at school, did they ever see a different view of their life. By then, they’d moved back to Lucky Strike, where their dad joined them in a pretty little double-wide next to an apple orchard. The boys were spoiled on hugs and kisses and lots of apple cobbler.
When kids taunted them about having a criminal father and stripper mother, and that their parents weren’t even married, the boys sat down and discussed what they knew to be true. Their dad, a smiling, hardworking man, managed the orchard next to them and three others besides, but still found time to toss a football and tell corny old jokes during dinner. Their beautiful, graceful mother made them laugh instead of cry when they had scrapes and bruises, and always sang when she cooked, using fancy little dance steps when she moved from the sink to the stove. They didn’t know for sure if their parents were married, but there was no question but that they loved each other, and Daniel, Mark, and Jonah.
Jonah settled the taunts with his fists or by brushing off the insults. Daniel blotted out the jeers by reciting a poem or the multiplication tables to himself and then withdrawing into books. Mark, genius as he was, might not even have understood the snide comments. The effect was that he looked down his nose at the bullies and blithely showed them up in every classroom subject.
As he withdrew from the taunts and jeers at school, Daniel withdrew from his family, too. Years later, he realized how different from his parents and brothers he’d become. Serious and more sensitive than he cared to admit, he found himself the lonely outsider in a family of carefree extroverts. Even Mark was more easygoing. By the time Daniel wanted to be more like them he didn’t know how, so he moved into a world where he felt more comfortable.
The strange thing was that, despite their past, his parents were well-liked—his dad respected and his mom embraced by the town. They were happy and still in love. Nothing had changed. So why did they feel the need to marry, something sure to draw gossip again? He knew no one would understand how he felt—what else was new?—but he couldn’t help wondering why now, when their actions would cause irreparable damage to his career, just as he was reaching the pinnacle of his dreams?
Daniel was so engrossed in his internal analysis that he almost missed the bombshell.
“The reporter said the story had enough appeal to attract international attention. Mom and Dad are both kind of famous, after all,” Jonah chuckled. “Won’t they get a kick out of that? Having their story on cable news?”
“No!”
Daniel hoped no one saw him, looking as though he’d had the worst shock of his life. Which, of course, he had.
The blood drained from his face, his eyes popped open wide, and so did his mouth. He’d probably laugh if he could see himself. Or maybe not. This was horrible.
His parents were getting married on international TV.
Chapter Two
Daniel drove Jonah to a restaurant in the village, not far from Westover Academy, and parked his Volvo in the cobblestone lot’s only vacant space. Judging from the building’s exterior, Freddie’s Tavern had once been a roomy clapboard home. The entrance led downstairs to a dark, paneled room. The after-work crowd gathered for drinks; some unwinding, others networking. A muted, wall-mounted TV aired a news program with stock market results ticker-taping the bottom of the screen.
Daniel led him past the bar to the hostess.
“Two for dinner, please.”
Jonah removed his NASCAR cap.
“Guess I’m underdressed, bro.”
“No, this is a casual place.”
Jonah knew better. In the south, flannel shirts and blue jeans worked in most restaurants. He’d even gone to church dressed this way, although only to the contemporary service. But this was New Hampshire, the heart of New England, home to bluebloods, not rednecks. He smiled, thinking of the picture he and Daniel presented. Daniel was the polished, finished version of Jonah, right down to the perfect eyebrows and flawless hair. Jonah had a scar over one eye from a childhood daredevil stunt, a mechanic’s rough hands, and nails severely trimmed to prevent them from collecting grease.
“Your waitress will be right with you.” The hostess stopped beside a small table draped in white linen and handed them tall menus. “The special this evening is veal scaloppini.”
“Thank you,” Daniel answered.
Jonah claimed the chair opposite him. “Veal scaloppini, eh? Sounds great.”
Daniel reached for the wine list with his perfectly manicured hand. “How about a nice—”
“Samuel Adams. I’m dying for a longneck.”
Clearing his throat, Daniel abandoned the wine menu. “They have it on draught.”
Jonah took the hint. God forbid Daniel be seen with his brother guzzling beer from a bottle.
“Great.”
The perky waitress, a college student he’d guess, arrived with a pitcher of iced water, and filled their goblets.
“You guys care for a drink before dinner?”
Daniel answered. “Two Sam Adams. I think we’re ready to order, too.”
They each ordered the special. The red-haired waitress collected their menus and disappeared.
“You ready to tell me why you were apoplectic earlier about our parents getting hitched?” Jonah asked.
Daniel’s eyes widened and he glanced around the room.
“Lower your voice, please.”
Jonah choked back laughter at the stricken look on his brother’s face.
“Why?”
“Discretion is important at a place like Westover. What would the parents say, or the board of directors, if they—”
“If they what? See your parents married on television? It has nothing to do with you or your proper conduct. You’re just attending the wedding—”
“I can’t. You don’t understand the situation, Jonah.”
Daniel exhaled a long, weary sigh.
Jonah almost sympathized with his brother’s distress. Almost.
“You’re right, I don’t understand. The three of us are their only children. They love us unconditionally. How can you even consider skipping out on something so important to them?”
“And I love them unconditionally. My not attending the wedding of the century isn’t going to change that, and they know it. Besides, it’s assumed that my parents are married. That is the proper order of things in a civilized society.”
He stared off into space for a moment, then looked back.
“Furthermore, I found out last month that I’m being considered for the position of headmaster of the school. Headmaster! Do you have any idea how hard I’ve worked—”
“To become a class A prig? Christ, Daniel, listen to yourself.”
“No, you listen. I love Mom and Dad, and I know they’re good people. But the perception of them is the issue. Dad may be the most lovable man in the world, but is that going to be the focus of the TV reports? No, it’ll be that, no matter what spin you put on it, he’s still an ex-con embezzler.”
“He paid his debt to society—”
“And while I’d vote for Mom to be Mother of the Year, she was a stripper, and a famous one. You can’t expect that’s going to be overlooked.”
“Exotic dancer. She also gave birth to us—”
“Without benefit of a marriage license, which makes the three of us illegitimate. And there we’ll be, smiling in the background like Tweedledum, Tweedledee, and Tweedlenerd. Their backgrounds and our legitimacy are now going to be blasted internationally.”
Was this guy for real? Is this what happened when they stayed apart too long? Jonah needed to spend quality time with his anal-retentive brother, loosen him up a bit.
“Bastards, huh? Well, it makes us lucky bastards, if you ask me. Who could ask for more loving, devoted parents?”
“I don’t argue that. But why the spectacle? Why, after almost thirty-seven years, do they have to publicly flaunt their indiscretion and embarrass—” Daniel stopped, as if sensing he’d said too much.
“Are you saying you’re ashamed of our parents?”
“I’m not! Not exactly.” Daniel sighed and rubbed his temple. “It’s complicated. There are things you don’t—”
The waitress saved Daniel from answering further by delivering their drinks. She placed two pilsner glasses at each place setting—Happy Hour.
Jonah needed both beers. One to quench his thirst and one to wash down the load of crap Daniel had just fed him. What had happened to the fun-loving brother who’d shared so many adventures with him? They’d never been well-off financially as kids, but they had a wealth of good memories. Was it too late to recapture that camaraderie? He had to try. No way he’d disappoint Mom and Dad with a no-show brother.
Changing his approach, Jonah said, “She sort of looks like Kelly Shepherd, doesn’t she?”
“Who, the waitress?”
“Yeah. Picture her with lighter, longer hair, and eyeglasses.”
“Kelly Shepherd. You mean our senior class president, back in high school? Jesus, I hardly remember anyone from high school.”
No surprise there. Daniel seemed to have abandoned everything from his past. He hadn’t been home to Lucky Strike, North Carolina, since two years ago last Christmas.
Jonah, on the other hand, remembered Kelly too well. She’d never forgiven him, not that he blamed her. Or had she? Jonah had been home for graduation, but she’d disappeared soon thereafter. He hadn’t had contact with her since. For all he knew, she was probably dumpy and dowdy now.
Daniel snapped his fingers.
“I’ve got it! Kelly Shepherd! Strawberry blond hair, big green eyes, and a nice set of—”
“Yeah. Don’t forget the freckles and skinny legs.”
Daniel grinned.
“You didn’t complain about her skinny legs when you two were going together. You took her to the homecoming game, right? And the dance after?”
So, he did remember.
“We double-dated.”
Daniel sipped his beer.
“We had just the one car, if you could classify that heap as a car.”
“Heap? It was a one-of-a-kind classic. Nobody else had an AMC Pacer with a 327 Corvette engine. Manual fuel injection, too. That baby would run!”
“When it ran at all.”
Jonah chuckled.
“Okay, maybe it was temperamental, but we had a lot of good times in that Pacer.”
“We had a lot of fun building it, too,” Daniel said. “We were the star pupils in shop class.”
“The three of us are a good team.”
Or were. He hoped the trip down memory lane would rekindle Daniel’s nostalgia for family and home.
“Now that I think about it, you had all the fun that particular night. Left me stranded with Marilyn Taylor at the homecoming dance. Wasn’t that the night you ... you know.”
“Lost my cherry?”
Jonah hid a grin behind his pilsner glass at Daniel’s grimace.
“That’s one way of putting it. With Kelly Shepherd. Right, it’s coming back to me now. Later, I begged you for details and you claimed there wasn’t much to it.”
That was the problem. There hadn’t been much to it. Thanks to his inexperience and hormones, Jonah managed to score but only after fumbling. He’d been too embarrassed to face Kelly afterward. She’d called him a dickhead, which shocked the hell out of him since she never spoke crudely, further proof of how much he’d upset her. Or disappointed her. He’d never been clear on her exact feelings since he’d dropped out of school shortly after the fiasco and moved down to South Carolina to live with his uncle.
He’d all but forgotten her until he’d seen the resemblance in the tavern waitress. Who was he kidding? He could never forget Kelly Shepherd. Even after all these years and a number of women. Although his sexual prowess had improved, his women had not. None held a candle to the intelligent, pretty Kelly. Adding insult to injury, he’d not only lost a high school sweetheart but a good friend, too.
“Whatever happened to you two, anyway? At one point you were inseparable—until after homecoming.”
Jonah took his time, drinking a long swallow of his Sam Adams.
“I think we were just too immature for sex. Of course, I didn’t believe so at the time. So what about Marilyn Taylor? You took her to the prom, too, right?”
“We were friends. I was comfortable around her because we weren’t trying to impress each other. Less pressure. And who did Mark take?”
“No one. Mark wasn’t into things like school dances. By then he was concerned with theoretical mathematics and unconcerned with girls.”
“That’s right.” Daniel rotated his pilsner, drawing a line in the condensation. “You know I was jealous as hell of you.”
“No, I didn’t know. Why?”
“You got laid first.” His grin broadened. “You and I may be identical, but I never had your smooth charm with the ladies.”
Jonah ignored the charm reference. “You have anyone special up here?”
“No. It’s not easy. I don’t exactly see a lot of women at a boys’ academy.”
“You get lonely?”
Daniel held his gaze. “Do you?”
“Yeah, I do. That’s why I’m asking. Over the years it seems we go through various stages in life at about the same time.” Jonah paused to give his brother a minute to tune in. “You are lonely without a woman. Admit it.”
“I’ll admit it. The living quarters at the school are great, don’t get me wrong. But how do you entertain a lady friend in a dormitory full of boys?”
“Major Payne did it.”
“Who?”
Jonah sighed. He doubted Daniel knew Damon Wayans or any of his films.
“It’s a movie. Never mind. I have my own place but can’t seem to find the right woman.”
“Really, Jonah. I’ve watched NASCAR. You have nearly as much celebrity as the drivers. Women throw their motel keys at you.”
An exaggeration, but Jonah wasn’t going to debate the issue. He didn’t want his brother’s envy. He wanted him to come home for Thanksgiving and the wedding, to be part of the family again. Besides, he’d outgrown the NASCAR groupies scene.
“Threw their keys. I must be getting pickier in my old age.”
“Speak for yourself,” Daniel said. “I’m not admitting to middle age yet, and certainly not to old age.”
But Daniel already seemed far too old.
“Not middle age? You drive a Volvo station wagon, for Chrissakes.”
What pushed Daniel to be staid and proper? True, he’d been the more serious brother growing up, but never Volvo-driving-serious. At least he could’ve bought a Jaguar or something a tad younger and sportier.
Daniel shook his head. “I see you’re still doing it.”
“Doing what?”
“Judging people by their vehicles. Not everyone follows your automotive mentality.”
“They don’t?” Jonah deadpanned.
Daniel shook his head. “And why have you given up NASCAR? I thought you loved it.”
“Been there, done that. Ready to try something new.”
“One of these days you’ll have to commit to something, brother.”
“Maybe, but not today.”
Their dinner arrived, derailing further conversation about women, family, cars, or old girlfriends. Surreptitiously checking his watch, Jonah renewed his determination to lure Daniel to their parents’ wedding. He’d have to be careful, though. Daniel could be a stubborn ass sometimes. Just like his brothers.
***
With a disquiet feeling, Daniel dropped Jonah off at the station just minutes before the train for Boston arrived.
“Take care,” he said. “Let’s not go so long without talking.”
Jonah took him in a hug and slapped his back.
“Let’s not go so long without seeing each other. Like next month at home at Thanksgiving.”
Daniel frowned. “Don’t count on it, Jonah. But don’t worry. I’ll call Mom and Dad and let them know I won’t be there. You came up to do the asking. I won’t make you the bearer of bad news.”
“Daniel, I’m not above bribery to get you there. Or guilting you.”
Daniel snorted a laugh. “You can try but I daresay it won’t work.”
Jonah stared at his brother for long seconds and then shrugged. “Well, can’t blame a man for trying.”
“Nope, can’t blame you. I hope eventually you can understand my side of things.”
The look on his brother’s face was all the evidence he needed to know that, true to form, Jonah would never understand. Fuck it. He could only be who he could be.
The train pulled into the station, initiating a spurt of people rushing toward the doors.
“Better get on and get a good seat. Hope you make all your connections for your flight home.”
Now that he knew where he stood in Jonah’s estimation, Daniel was ready for his brother to hurry back to his part of the country and leave Daniel in his. Obviously they were worlds apart, and never the twain shall meet.
***
“Mr. Goodman?”
Daniel looked up from his desk where he sat grading papers.
“Mr. Torrington, you should be asleep. Do you feel unwell?”
He rose and went to the open doorway where Jeffrey Torrington stood, looking a mess. His slippers were on the wrong feet and his bathrobe hung half open, showing that his pajama top was buttoned incorrectly. Daniel sighed. Some housemasters would give him demerits for sloppiness, even around the dorm, and maybe for the older boys—those the age of his students—it would be warranted. But not for Jeffrey. He was just a second grader, for God’s sake. To his way of thinking, the kids his age shouldn’t even be in a residential school. They should still be home with their mothers.
Torrington shook his head. “I’m just worried, sir.”
“What are you worried about, Mr. Torrington?”
Daniel opened the boy’s robe and rebuttoned his pajama top. Then he retied the robe and led Torrington in to sit on the sofa where he reversed his slippers.
“Do you think Mr. Goodman will forget to send the NASCAR cap, sir?”
That was what worried the kid?
“I don’t think so, Mr. Torrington. He won’t be home for a day or two but he’s good about fulfilling his promises. Don’t you worry. He’ll send the cap.”
The boy heaved a sigh and twisted his hands in his lap.
“Thank you, sir!”
Daniel fought a smile.
“Think you can sleep now?”
Jeffrey nodded so hard he nearly knocked himself off the edge of the sofa.
“Yes, sir. I’ll go and do it right now!”
“Good man! I’ll see you at breakfast then.”
The boy tore off up the hallway.
“No running,” Daniel murmured, knowing it did no good. The boy was just a … boy, after all.
Settling at the desk again, he continued on with his paperwork.
No comments have been added yet.
