|
The Secret of Ed’s Success
Cambridge, Massachusetts Nineteen-year-old Edward Lynch sipped on
a glass of iced tea as he looked over his notes for his upcoming Basic
Computer Programming 101 test. “I’m going into advertising, not computers,”
he mumbled under his breath. “I don’t know why I have to take this stupid
class anyway.” “Because
computers are the way of the future, my friend, and you don’t want to be left
behind.” Ed looked up and grinned at his friend Bill,
who had just entered the little diner. “I certainly hope my future doesn’t hinge on computers; I’ll end up living in a
cardboard box.” Bill
thumped the hulking Irishman on the back as he claimed the stool beside him
at the counter. “You’ll get it, Ed. You’re a smart guy, so something’s bound
to sink into that thick skull of yours eventually.” “Easy for
you to say,” Ed commented with a smirk. “You’re practically teaching this
class for Professor Higgins, even though you’re only his student aide.” The
waitress set down a plate laden with a thick bacon cheeseburger and a heaping
mound of golden French fries in front of Ed. She then turned to Bill.
“What’re you having, sweetie?” she asked, snapping her gum in a manner Ed
found extremely annoying. “Just
coffee,” Bill replied, trying to ignore the enticing aroma emanating from his
friend’s food. However, Ed
was an astute young man and noticed the hungry look in his friend’s eyes.
“Hey, Dixie,” he called. The waitress turned around to look at him. “Why
don’t you bring my pal here a burger with everything and an order of fries?” “No, that’s
okay, Ed,” Bill began, shaking his head. “I’m fine. I’ll just have a bologna
sandwich back at the dorm. I just stopped by for a caffeine fix.” “Didn’t you
just have a bologna sandwich for dinner last night?” Ed questioned. “Well,
yeah, but—” “But
nothing,” Ed quickly interjected. “Have lunch with me. My treat.” Dixie,
still gnawing on her Trident, stared at the pair, not taking the order to the
cook until she had confirmation from both parties. “So, what’s it going to
be, boys?” “Take the
order to the kitchen, Dixie,” Ed declared firmly. “Just bring the bill to me.
And ask Skip to make it snappy; I hate eating by myself.” “All
right.” The bleached blonde grinned as she took the order to the kitchen. It
wasn’t the first time she’d seen the generous giant foot the bill for a
friend, and she knew it wouldn’t be the last. “You didn’t
have to do that, Ed,” Bill told him. “I told you I was planning on grabbing a
sandwich after I got back to the dorms.” “Now you
can plan on eating with me.” Ed moved his plate aside and tried to ignore his
growling stomach so he could wait to eat with his friend. “So, how’s your
part-time job going?” Bill
grinned sheepishly. “Well, I kind of quit. Paul and I needed more time to
develop that computer program we’ve been working on. We’re hoping to sell it
soon, and if we make enough money, we could start our own company.” “I hope it
works out for you,” Ed commented, taking another sip of his tea. He briefly
wondered if he should lecture his friend about his need for employment, but
decided Bill was smart enough to make his own decisions. Instead, he allowed
his generosity to speak for him. “You know, if you ever need a loan, I’m
always here.” “Ed, you’re
almost as broke as I am,” Bill said with a chuckle. “Probably more so. At
least my family is well-off. If I get too desperate, I could hit up my old
man for a loan. You’re at Harvard on an athletic scholarship, and you’re
working your butt off to earn spending money now that football season’s
over.” “I’m doing
okay,” Ed insisted stubbornly. “And hey, what’s the use of having a little
extra cash unless you can use it to help people? That’s what life’s all
about, right?” “You’re a
good guy, Ed,” Bill remarked, admiration obvious in his tone. Ed Lynch had
certainly earned his reputation for being the most generous student on
campus. Never in his life had Bill met someone as charitable as his friend,
and Ed had made quite an impact on the young computer programmer. He’d
watched Ed happily give away his last dollar to someone less needy than
himself. The waitress brought over Bill’s food, and the two chums
began munching companionably. The bell above the diner’s door jingled as
another group of students entered the restaurant. “Hey, there’s that guy in
my business class,” Bill remarked in between bites. “I think his name’s Matt
or something like that.” Ed barely
looked up, too interested in his burger to care. “That guy’s
really sharp,” Bill continued, squirting some ketchup onto his fries. “Just
watch; he’ll make it big someday.” The
broad-shouldered man merely grunted in response. “I heard he
comes from money,” Bill went on. “Someone told me that his mom’s dad was a
senator or something, so she runs in all the big society circles. His dad was
in the military, but after he finished active service, he got a good job in
Washington D.C. at the Pentagon.” “So?” Ed
managed through his bite of hamburger. “It’s all
about connections, Ed,” Bill explained. “After Matt strikes it rich, he might
be willing to invest in my company. You never know whose going to be loaded
someday, so it pays to make good contacts now.” Ed nodded
thoughtfully, adding more salt to his fries. “Rumor has
it that Matt’s best friend’s family is loaded, too,” Bill commented. “That
guy he hangs out with. Lin, Fin, Sven… Some kind of weird name like that.” “Geez,
Bill, do you have a financial portfolio on every student here?” Ed asked with
a chuckle. “It
wouldn’t hurt. A big-time company like Paul and I want to have someday will
need investors,” Bill told him. “I’m heading for the top, Ed, mark my words.” Ed grinned
as he pointed to the glob of mustard that had just dripped down the front of
his friend’s shirt. “You’d better change your shirt first. I’d hate for
people to see that bright yellow stain when you’re posing for the cover of Forbes Magazine.” No matter
how hard he tried, Bill couldn’t keep the rueful smile from his lips as he
wet a napkin and used it to dab at the stain. “You just watch, Ed. I’m going
to make a million dollars by the time I’m thirty. Maybe even two million.” “You sure
like to talk about making a pile of dough someday,” Ed remarked in an offhand
manner. “Sure! What
else is there?” “Family,
friends, loved ones.” A sentimental smile played languidly across Ed’s lips
as he said the words “loved ones”. “You can’t
fool me, Lynch.” Bill smiled knowingly as he studied his buddy through
narrowed eyes. “Who is she? After all, there must be some reason the popular jock is sitting here with the campus
computer nerd instead of out dancing with sorority girls.” Ed grinned
as he reached into the back pocket of his jeans and pulled out his wallet. He
flipped it open to the picture in the front. “Carolyn Wilson Hoffman. She’s a
sophomore at my old high school.” “She’s
cute,” Bill murmured. “Cute?” Ed’s tone was
indignant. “Why, Carolyn’s the prettiest girl in all of Sleepyside! Everybody
says so!” Bill
chuckled heartily. “Okay, she’s beautiful. I was just afraid you’d pop me in
the nose because I complimented your girl, but if you must know, she’s a
knockout.” Ed gazed at
the picture affectionately before he put his wallet back in his pocket. “I
can’t wait until we’re both finished with school so we can get married.” “Already
thinking about marriage?” Bill raised an inquisitive eyebrow. “She won’t be
out of high school for another two-and-a-half years.” “I’ve known
I was going to marry her since I was ten-years-old.” Ed chuckled, his deep
brown eyes sparkling. “Of course, she didn’t even know who I was until two
years later, but once she saw me, she’ll tell you that it was love at first
sight. So according to her, we’ve been in love with each other since we were
both ten.” “What’re
your plans after you get married?” Bill inquired as he finished his
hamburger. “I don’t
know,” Ed answered. “Get a job at an advertising agency, buy a house, have a
few kids. We both want lots of kids, at least three.” “No white
picket fence?” “Depends on
if it fits into Carolyn’s decorating scheme,” Ed returned with a grin. “What
about you, Bill? What’re your plans after you graduate in a couple of years?” Bill
shrugged his shoulders. “I’m not even sure I’m going to stick around to graduate. Paul and I would rather
start building up our company now.” “Are you
sure that’s a good idea?” Ed’s forehead furrowed with concern. “How’re you
ever going to be a big-time computer tycoon if you don’t have a college
degree?” “You said
yourself that I was practically teaching Professor Higgins’ class,” Bill told
his friend matter-of-factly. “So, why not try and make it in the real world
instead of wasting my time doing somebody else’s job?” “Well,
you’ve gotta do what you think is best.” Instead of commenting further, Ed
called the waitress over and ordered two large slices of apple pie ala mode. “Dessert,
too?” Bill lifted an eyebrow. “You aren’t trying to bribe me for the answers
to that big test, are you?” “Nah,” Ed
assured him, chortling. “I just figure you’ve earned a slice of apple pie
after all your hard work.” “I’ll pay
you back the minute my dad sends me some cash,” Bill promised. However, Ed
wouldn’t have any of that. “Forget it, buddy. This lunch is on me. Maybe
someday when you’re a big computer magnate you can buy me lunch.” “It’s a
deal,” Bill replied. “And hey, maybe I’ll even throw in a stock or two.” Conversation
ceased as Dixie brought over two large plates, each holding a slice of warmed
Dutch apple pie and two scoops of vanilla ice cream. Ed Lynch had no idea how his generosity
would eventually be repaid. November 1985,
Twelve years before The Secret of the Mansion Ten years
later, Ed Lynch had graduated with a bachelor’s degree in advertising,
although it wasn’t from Harvard. His father had had a major heart attack
right before Ed’s junior year, and to help his parents financially, he’d
transferred to New York University, which was much closer to their home in
Sleepyside. However, in doing so, he’d lost his scholarship, and had been
forced to go heavily into debt paying his own tuition. In addition to paying
for his education, he also sent his parents some money each month to help
with their mounting medical bills. Ed married
his high school sweetheart after he graduated, in October of 1979. Although
he accepted a position with a small advertising firm in New York City, the
newlyweds settled in a tiny apartment on Hawthorne Street in their old
hometown, not being able to afford anything better. The couple was poor as
church mice, but they were blissfully happy. In November
of 1983, Carolyn became pregnant with their first child. The following
August, the Lynches welcomed a beautiful daughter with black curls and
violet-blue eyes. Her proud papa, confident she was every bit as pretty as
Princess Di herself, named the dainty girl Diana. His princess, he told his
wife, deserved a royal name. Each day,
he took the commuter train into his office in the city. Mr. West, his boss,
was not terribly successful; however, kindhearted Ed hated to leave the
company for which he had worked since he graduated college. Carolyn often
urged him to find another place of employment, but in the end, he decided to
remain loyal to Mr. West. Finally, in
November of 1985, his loyalty paid off. “Ed, can I
talk to you for a minute?” Mr. West asked, poking his gray head into Ed’s
small cubicle. “Sure, Mr.
West.” Ed stood up as his boss entered the tiny room. He pointed to the
shabby chair across from his desk. Once the older man had sat down, Ed
reclaimed his seat. “How can I help you, sir?” “As you
know, Christmas is next month,” Mr. West said. “You’ve been working here for
six years, and you’ve been the best advertising executive I’ve ever had.” “Thank you,
Mr. West.” “No, thank you, Ed. I appreciate you sticking
with me, especially since we haven’t been particularly successful lately.” Mr.
West reached into his suit jacket’s inner pocket and pulled out an envelope.
“As you know, that big Van-Co account you landed this past fall has been the
biggest we’ve handled yet. It certainly helped us through a rough patch. If
it weren’t for that account, we would’ve had to file bankruptcy by now.” “You’re
welcome, Mr. West,” Ed replied, smiling. “It’s an honor to help you out. You
took me under your wing when I was still wet behind the ears. You’ve been
like another father to me. It’s a pleasure to assist the company any way I
can.” “Yes, well now it’s our
pleasure to assist you.” The older
man handed Ed the envelope. “Merry Christmas, Ed.” A puzzled expression caused Ed’s dark brows to meet in the
groove above his nose. “What’s this?” “Open it and find out,” Mr. West urged. It seemed he was
more excited about the gift than his employee. Ed tenuously opened the envelope and pulled out a check.
He gasped in utter amazement when he saw the amount for which it was written.
“Mr. West,” he sputtered, “there must be some kind of mistake.” “Ed, the only mistake is that we weren’t able to give you
this sooner,” his employer assured him. “As you know, we’ve never been to
give out more than a turkey or ham at Christmastime; however, after the hefty
check that Van-co just sent us, I thought it’d be a fitting gesture for us to
reward you. After all, you’re the
reason we got that account in the first place.” “But it’s for so much…” Ed stammered. “Surely the
secretary added an extra zero…” He held out the check for Mr. West to
examine. “No, that’s the right amount. I only wish that we could’ve
given you more. After all the good you’ve done here, this doesn’t even begin
to thank you properly.” Ed cleared his throat. “I can’t tell you how much I
appreciate this, Mr. West,” he said huskily. “With the new baby…” “How is the little one?” “Pretty as a princess, just like her mama,” Ed replied
proudly. “Of course, in this day and age, a man has to be rich as a king to
provide for his family.” “Have a lot of hospital expenses, do you?” Ed gave a rueful grin. “Yes, that and diapers, formula,
baby food... For one so tiny, Diana sure has been expensive.” “I remember those days well,” Mr. West said, nodding
sympathetically. “And we weren’t in the best financial shape to begin with,”
Ed continued. “I’m still paying off several student loans, and I try to send
Mom and Dad a little cash when I can. My father’s been unable to work since
his heart attack.” “I’m sorry that you and Carolyn have had it so rough,
son,” Mr. West told him. “Oh, I wasn’t trying to give you a sob story. I was just
trying to explain why we appreciated this so much,” Ed interrupted hastily.
“I was just talking to you as a friend, more than a boss. I hope I wasn’t out
of line, sir.” “Not at all,” Mr. West assured him. “However, it does make
me appreciate how you’ve stuck with us all these years. I know there’re
better, higher paying firms out there who’d snap up a smart guy like you in a
minute.” “I like it here.” Ed’s tone was honest. “There’s a lot to
be said about having such a considerate employer.” Mr. West stood, a smile on his face. “Put that money to
good use, you hear? And give Carolyn my regards.” “I’ll do it,” Ed replied. “And once again, thank you.” At lunchtime, the hefty check burning a hole in his
pocket, Ed left his office building to get a sandwich and possibly do a
little window shopping afterwards. For the first time in his married life, he
would be able to shower his “girls” with presents, and he was anxious to
begin purchasing things he knew they would like. A generous soul, Ed truly
believed it was better to give than to receive. Twenty-five
hundred dollars! he thought to himself excitedly. Never in a million years did I ever expect to ever get that much money
at once! Thank you, God! He walked down the street to the little diner on the
corner. Although he normally packed his lunch to save money, he decided to
take advantage of his new windfall and give into his BLT craving. Just as he
reached for the door handle, a familiar voice called out a greeting. “Ed Lynch! Why, you son of a gun! In all of New York City,
I never guessed I’d run into you. How long has it been?” The tall, stocky man turned around in surprise to see his
old college buddy, Bill. “Must be almost ten years by now.” He offered his
hand in greeting, the ever-present grin on his face. “I haven’t seen you
since you dropped out of college.” “It’s been far too long, my friend.” Bill shook Ed’s hand
enthusiastically. “What’re you doing here?” “I work here in the city at West Side Advertising,” Ed
answered. “Do you live here?” Bill shook his head. “I’m just here for a meeting.” He
nodded towards the diner. “You hungry?” “Aren’t I always?” Ed chuckled boisterously. His college
reputation for putting away food— and lots of it— was legendary. “When your metabolism slows down, you’re going to be in
trouble, mister,” Bill teased good-naturedly. “Anyway, I believe I owe you a
lunch or fifty. Is this place any good?” “They make the best bacon, lettuce, and tomato sandwiches
in town,” Ed replied, practically drooling as he said the words. “But how
about you let me buy?” Bill carefully appraised his old friend’s attire. Although
Ed’s suit was neatly pressed and expertly hemmed, it looked to be a low
quality one from several seasons ago. Additionally, his shoes, fastidiously
shined, were scuffed and well-worn. “No, this one’s on me, buddy. Since I
would’ve starved to death my sophomore year of college if it hadn’t been for
your generosity, buying you lunch today is the least I could do.” Ed quirked a brow and mulled Bill’s offer. He was
accustomed to showing benevolence, not accepting it. It felt rather strange
to be on the receiving end. “Please, Ed. I insist. I have a lot to talk to you about.” “Okay,” Ed agreed with a rueful smile. “As long as I can
pay you back someday.” “It’s a deal.” Bill grinned as he followed his tall,
stocky friend inside. The pair found a table in the corner, where they would
have some privacy to discuss old times. After ordering their meals, they
proceeded to catch up on the past decade. “So,” Bill began, adding a packet of sweetener to his iced
tea, “did you ever marry that pretty black-haired girl you were so crazy
about?” “Sure did,”
Ed told him happily. “And I’m even crazier about her than I was ten years
ago. This October, we’ve been married six glorious years.” “Any kids?” “We have a
seventeen-month-old baby girl, Diana.” Ed practically swooned as he told Bill
his daughter’s name. “You
wouldn’t happen to have any pictures on you, would you?” Ed inhaled
sharply, absolute delight etched on his already jolly features. “Bill,
someday you’ll learn never to ask a
proud papa if he has any pictures of his pride and joy.” To illustrate his
point, he pulled out his wallet and flipped it open, unfurling a long string
of photographs all featuring the same baby in various poses and at different
ages. Bill
chuckled in amusement. “Did I mention that I have a meeting at three o’clock
this afternoon?” However, he good-naturedly looked at each of the pictures,
commenting often how adorable Diana was. “Seriously, you have a beautiful
family, Ed. I only hope to be so fortunate someday.” “You aren’t
married yet?” Bill paused
as the waitress brought their food, and as the two began eating, he answered
the question. “Not yet.
Still waiting for the right girl, I guess.” “She’ll
come along eventually,” Ed told him. “So, are you still working with
computers?” “Sure am,”
Bill replied. “Paul and I started our own company like we always talked
about. In fact, that’s what my meeting’s about. We’re preparing to open up
our stocks to the public next month. I don’t suppose you do any investing?” Ed snorted
as he finished chewing a bite of his sandwich. “I’m afraid that all I know about
the stock market could fit in a thimble. The only bulls and bears I’m
familiar with are the ones in the zoo, and I don’t even visit those
regularly.” “Well, if
you’d ever be interested in purchasing some stocks in my company, I can set
you up,” Bill offered. “I’m willing to bet that they’ll be worth a bundle
someday. You’d be able to spoil your girls in style with all the money you’d
make.” Ed ceased
his chewing, and lifted a dark brow. “Is that so?” “Yeah,”
Bill said with a nod. “I’d even throw in a few extra stocks to boot.” Ed’s
expression became thoughtful as he began pondering Bill’s offer. “How much
are those stocks going for? A dollar or two apiece?” “Actually
each share’s about twenty bucks,” Bill corrected matter-of-factly, without a
trace of superiority. “Even
twenty bucks is a lot of money when you have to buy diapers and baby food,”
Ed remarked. Bill pushed up his thick-rimmed glasses and studied his
friend’s reaction. Though he knew Ed would never admit it, he didn’t have
twenty bucks to spare. He immediately regretted his offer. “Hey, I know how
tight your budget must be with a new baby. Forget I even brought it up. I’d
hate to put a financial strain on you, especially during the holiday season.” Ed nodded,
his relief apparent. The two continued with their lunch, discussing their
days at Harvard. However, as they lingered over dessert, the gears in Ed’s
head refused to quit spinning, and he returned the conversation to the stock
market. “So, do you
think I’d be safe investing a few bucks in those stocks you mentioned? I sure
could stand to make a buck or two.” Bill
thoughtfully chewed his bite of coconut cream pie. “I really couldn’t say for
sure, Ed. Each investment involves some
risk. And, although I think buying
stock in my company would be a wise decision, I could be a bit prejudiced. I’d feel really guilty if I steered
you wrong.” “But a lot
of people have made thousands in the stock market, right?” “Yes, but a
lot more people have lost their shirts.” Bill shook his head firmly. “If you
don’t have the extra money, then I can’t let yo—” “I just got
a Christmas bonus,” Ed interrupted. “Twenty-five hundred bucks.” Bill
whistled through his teeth. “That was some bonus. But surely you aren’t
planning on investing the whole thing?” “Of course
not. I was going to keep five hundred to buy presents for my girls, but that
leaves two grand—” “Maybe you
should just put the rest in the bank,” Bill replied with a shake of his head.
“You never know when you’ll have an emergency, and that money would come in
handy.” Ed paused
momentarily, digesting Bill’s words of wisdom. Finally, he spoke. “True, but
just think how much money I’d have if those stocks do well. Why, I could end
up with five thousand dollars, instead of two. And I wasn’t really expecting
that money, so technically I wouldn’t be losing anything…” “No, you
wouldn’t lose anything,” Bill stated wryly. “Anything except your wife, that
is. She’ll divorce you after she finds out you gave me two thousand dollars
instead of starting a college fund for that pretty little girl of yours.” Ed gulped
back an extraordinarily large lump in his throat. “Well, I don’t have to tell her.” “As a
single guy, I don’t know much about being married,” Bill said with a wince,
“but I have a feeling that keeping a secret like that wouldn’t be wise.” “I’ll tell
her after we start raking in the
bucks,” Ed promised congenially. “I’m sure that if I break the news with a
sparkly diamond necklace she won’t be nearly as angry with me.” Bill held
up a hand in protest. “Ed, the stock market’s such a fickle thing. One minute
you can be riding high, the next you can hit rock bottom. I’m kicking myself
for even bringing it up in the first place—” “I’m an
adult, Bill,” Ed told his friend firmly. “I can decide how I want to spend my
money. Now, I’m determined to do this, with or without your help. I can just
as easily call a stockbroker on Wall Street…” Bill sighed
heavily. “Don’t do that, Ed; I’ll hook you up. How much do you want to
invest?” “Two
thousand,” Ed answered adamantly. “That’ll get me one hundred shares, right?” “Right,”
Bill affirmed, albeit a bit reluctantly. “And since you’re so determined to
do this, I’ll throw in an extra thousand stocks. Of course, those shares will
be restricted, and you won’t be able sell them for at least two years, but at
least they should help you get your two grand back if the stocks bomb.” Ed’s thick
brow shot up in surprise. “Can you do that?” “Of course
I can,” Bill said with a chuckle. “Since I own half the company, I have a
certain amount of stocks that I can do with as I please. Besides, I think I
can swing it easily enough.” Ed shook
his head stubbornly. “I can’t let you waste one thousand shares on me. That’s
too generous.” “It’s the
least I can do, my friend,” Bill told him. “I may have been the computer
geek, but you taught me a lot about life. I’ve never
forgotten your generosity, and it’s high time I paid you back for all the
kindness you showed me.” “I’d feel
bad—” “Ed, I’m the one who’ll feel badly if you
don’t let me do this.” Bill locked eyes with his old friend. “You’ve always
been the one to show kindness to others. This time, be the one to accept it.” Ed
swallowed the lump that had risen in his throat. He gruffly sniffed back a
few tears that had begun misting his eyes. “Thanks, Bill. I really appreciate
that.” “Don’t
thank me yet,” Bill told him with a wry expression. “At least wait until I
make you a couple hundred grand.” Ed snorted.
“Yeah, like I’ll ever make that much money.” “You never
know.” “Well, my
friend, I’ll be thrilled if I could just double my money,” Ed said. “Give me
your address, and I’ll be sure that you get your certificates.” Bill handed
him his business card and a pen. “And remember you can’t touch those
restricted stocks for t—” “Ten
years,” Ed interrupted, looking up as he scrawled his address. “No, two
years,” Bill corrected. “Do you want me to write that down for you?” “Nah, I’ll
remember it.” Ed lifted his glass of lemonade in a toast. “Here’s to making a
fortune in the stock market.” With a
wink, Bill lifted his own glass of iced tea. “I’ll drink to that, my friend.” A month later,
a week before Christmas… Pretty Carolyn
Lynch nervously brushed back an ebony tendril as she stopped to inspect her
reflection in a window on the New York City street. She was accompanying her
husband to West Side Advertising’s company annual Christmas dinner, and
wanted to make him proud. “Are you sure I look all right? Maybe I need some
more blush…” “Sweetheart,
if you looked any prettier I’d be afraid to let you out of the house,” Ed
teased. He cupped his wife’s cheeks with his hands and tilted her face upward
until her brilliant blue eyes met his sherry-colored ones. His breath caught
in his throat as he admired the love of his life. “Seriously Carolyn, in all
my days, I’ve never seen anything more beautiful. I’m mighty proud to be your
husband, Mrs. Lynch.” Carolyn
blushed with pleasure, the scarlet of her cheeks only enhancing her
classically beautiful features. “You look quite handsome yourself, Mr. Lynch.
You’re even more dashing now than you were in high school.” “I do clean up pretty well, don’t I?” He
chuckled as he smoothed the lapel of his new suit. Though he hadn’t planned
on spending any of his Christmas bonus on himself, his wife had insisted that
he buy something. Wanting to please
Carolyn, he had finally picked out the navy pinstriped suit he now wore,
which had been on sale. She smiled
affectionately as she stood on her tiptoes to straighten his conservative
tie. “You certainly do, darling. I’ll have my hands full, keeping the young
secretaries away from you.” “None of
those girls can hold a candle to my
girl,” Ed assured her, bending down to kiss her forehead. “I’m just hoping
that Mrs. Jackson has Diana fast asleep when we get home so I can show you how beautiful I think you
are.” Carolyn
looked up coyly at her husband through a fringe of thick, dark lashes.
“Promise?” “You have
my word,” he answered solemnly. “But first, we’ll have to take off that
pretty dress so it doesn’t get all wrinkly. You do like your dress, don’t
you?” Carolyn
giggled as she spun around to make the red silk folds of her party gown’s
skirt twirl. “Oh, I love it, Ed! You really shouldn’t have spent so much
money on me.” “How often
can I buy my best girl a fancy dress at Macy’s?” “Well, I
suppose it’s okay,” she relented. “Since it’s Christmas…” Ed smiled secretly as he thought of the diamond necklace
that he had also purchased the previous month. It was still hidden away in
his desk at the office, and he was dying to see the look on his wife’s face
when she opened it. “What’re you
smiling about?” Carolyn asked, linking her hand through her husband’s
arm. “Just thinking about how jealous all the men I work with
will be when they see you at my side,” he responded cryptically. “If you’re so anxious to show me off, then maybe we should
go inside,” she suggested with a shiver. She wrapped the secondhand black
shawl she’d found in a thrift store more closely around her as the wind blew
a bit stronger. “I’m cold.” “Your wish is my command.” Ed opened the door to the
restaurant for his wife. “After you, my dear.” Once inside, Carolyn stood on her tiptoes and began
looking around the room. “If you’re looking for my girlfriend, I doubt she’s here
yet,” Ed teased with a wink. “Silly goose.” She swatted him with her purse, a glimmer
in her eyes. Her almond-shaped eyes with their irises the color of delphiniums
mesmerized her husband, no matter how often he gazed into them. “I’m looking
for Mr. West. I wanted to thank him for your generous bonus. It’s helped out
so much.” Ed swallowed a huge lump that had suddenly risen in his
throat as he imagined his boss informing Carolyn that his bonus had been for $2,500 rather than $500. To say that he regretted making
such a large investment in Bill’s extremely risky venture was putting it
mildly. Even worse, although it had been over a month, he still hadn’t
mustered the courage to tell her about his stock purchase. And he had a
feeling that tonight wasn’t the best time to broach the subject. “Uh,
sweetheart, maybe you shouldn’t mention my bonus to anyone.” Carolyn lowered her brows quizzically. “Why not? It just
doesn’t seem polite not to thank him.” “I’ve already told him how grateful we are,” he responded
quickly. “No need to do it again.” “You can’t thank someone too much,” she insisted with a
laugh. Ed sighed deeply, wishing for the millionth time that he’d
never purchased those stupid stocks. He had never kept secrets from Carolyn
before, and keeping this one was like a knife through his heart. If worry
didn’t kill him, the guilt would. Promising himself that he’d tell her the
truth later that night, he said, “Sweetheart, I really wish that you wouldn’t
mention that money. Nobody else in the office got such a big bonus, and I’d
hate to cause hard feelings between the other employees.” Carolyn worried her lower lip. “I hadn’t thought of that.
I wouldn’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings. I promise I won’t bring it up.” “That’s my girl,” Ed murmuring, breathing a sigh of
relief. Taking his wife’s hand, he led her to an empty table. However, his
relief was short-lived as his boss and his wife walked over to them. “Ed!” Mr. West greeted congenially as he shook the younger
man’s hand. “Mind if Evelyn and I join you and your lovely wife?” Ed could barely swallow. Feeling three sets of eyes upon
him, he plastered a wide smile on his face. “Of course not, Mr. West. We’d be
honored to sit with you.” He watched warily as the older couple claimed the
two remaining seats at their table and sat down. Dinner was delicious, but in spite of his love of food, Ed
could barely taste a bite. He spent the entire time worrying that the topic of
his bonus would arise. Though his stomach was in knots during the meal, he
had managed to survive the three-course meal without any mention of the
check. Dessert had just been served when Mrs. West dropped the nuclear bomb. “So Carolyn, did you enjoy spending Ed’s windfall?” Uh-oh, was Ed’s
initial thought. He held his breath as he waited for his wife’s answer. “Actually, Ed spent most of it before I got a turn,”
Carolyn replied politely. “He had a ball buying Christmas gifts for our
family, especially Diana. He spoils her so, you know.” Evelyn West cocked a silver brow in query. “Surely he
hasn’t spent the entire bonus
already?” “Of course not,” Ed burst in, chuckling. “I managed to
squirrel a little away in savings.” He automatically cringed, waiting for
lightning to strike him where he sat. “You did?” Carolyn turned around and looked at him, her
widened eyes evidence of her pleased surprise. “That’s wonderful, Ed. How
much were you able to put away in the bank?” “Oh, I’m not sure about the exact amount,” Ed stammered
nervously. “But darling, we’re boring Mr. and Mrs. West. Let’s talk about
something else, shall we?” “Why, this isn’t boring at all, Ed,” Mr. West insisted.
“After all you’ve done for the company, it was a pleasure to give you such a
big bonus. Just seeing your lovely wife’s smile warms this old man’s heart.” Carolyn turned to face her husband’s employer, and smiled
at him in her most becoming manner. “Thank you so much for your generosity,
Mr. West. You can’t possibly know how that money has helped us.” “You’re welcome, dear.” Mr. West patted Carolyn’s hand. “I
only wish I could give you twenty-five hundred dollars every Christmas.” Immediately, the smile faded from Carolyn’s lips. Her chin
quavered with the effort of holding back her emotions. “Twenty-five hundred dollars?” was all that she said. Mr. West began chuckling, thinking Carolyn’s reaction was
a joke. “Surely you knew that’s what Ed received. He didn’t hide a grand or
two from you, did he?” Biting back the tears stinging her eyes, Carolyn laughed
along with the older man. “Certainly not,” she managed to say. She cast her
husband a pointed sidelong glance. “Thank you so much for your generosity,
Mr. West. It was a lot more than I expected.” Ed slunk down in his chair. Suddenly, he had no appetite
for the lemon chiffon pie before him. His stomach sank as he waited for
Carolyn to announce that he had, in fact, spent two thousand dollars without
her knowledge. However, much to his surprise, his wife didn’t say a word
about the amount of the bonus. Instead, she plastered a fake smile on her
face, purposely not making eye contact with Ed. “My, isn’t this pie divine?” she commented in an
overly-cheerful tone. Murmurs of agreement came from the older couple, but one
of the members of their party was strangely silent. He was too busy dreading
the long evening ahead of him.
The silence
ensued on into the long car ride back to Sleepyside. Though Ed attempted to
begin a conversation a few times, it was clear Carolyn had nothing to say.
She sat stiffly in the passenger seat of their old rattletrap of a car, her
steely gaze fastened on the scenery out the window. Barely a minute after Ed
pulled into the parking spot in front of their apartment building, Carolyn
opened her door and jumped out onto the curb. Ed hustled
out of the car and raced down the sidewalk to catch his wife. It didn’t take
long for his long-legged strides to catch up with her smaller ones.
“Carolyn!” He reached out and gently clasped her arm. “You can’t ignore me
all night!” Allowing
the sparks shooting off her eyes to do her talking for her, Carolyn wrenched
away out of her husband’s embrace. Her lips set in an angry, thin line, she
spun around like a flash of lightning. “Carolyn!”
Ed struggled to keep his Irish temper at bay. Taking a deep breath, he
assumed a more docile tone. “Carolyn, you’re going to fall and kill yourself
on this ice in those ridiculous heels. Let me help you inside.” Refusing to give her husband a cursory look
back, Carolyn stalked into their building, without his assistance. By the
time Ed caught up to her, she had already paid Mrs. Jackson, sent their
elderly neighbor on her way, and then locked herself in the bathroom. Sighing
wearily, Ed rapped on the door. “Carolyn,
you can’t stay in there forever,” he beseeched. “Come out, sweetheart. We
need to talk.” Ed had once
heard that, when involved in a confrontation with another, one should remain
quiet after offering the ultimatum because the person who speaks first will
ultimately be defeated. Therefore, he stood outside the door, patiently
waiting for a response. Fifteen minutes later, it became painfully obvious
that Carolyn must have heard that same theory and had no intentions of
answering him. Briefly, Ed wondered if she really could stay in there forever. Sighing
wearily, Ed once again knocked. “Carolyn, I’m sorry. Can you please come out
of the bathroom and talk to me? I love you, sweetheart. Please can we discuss
this like two adults?” He held his
breath as he waited for a response. However, none would come. It appeared his
bride was in this for the long haul. “Carolyn, please come out.” Desperate, Ed pulled
out his secret weapon— Carolyn’s superb motherly instincts. “All this noise
is going to wake up Diana.” As
expected, the bathroom door slowly opened, and Carolyn emerged from her
sanctuary. The party dress had been cast off in favor of her favorite
tattered robe, and a thick spackling of cold cream had replaced her makeup.
Apparently the evening wasn’t going to end as they had planned. However, Ed
would be content if this night ended with him sleeping in his own bed, rather
than on the couch. He reached
out a tenuous hand towards her hand, but Carolyn quickly pulled away her arm.
Her sparking eyes currently resembled the blue flame under a Bunsen burner. “Carolyn,”
he began, his voice a defeated facsimile of his usual booming baritone. “If
you’d only let me explain…” Although
she knew it was dangerous, Carolyn met her husband’s soulful gaze. And just
as it feared, the love and remorse she found there forced her to relent. She
released a labored breath, and then murmured, “All right, but this had better
be good, Ed.” This time
when he reached out to take her hand, Carolyn didn’t resist. Hand-in-hand,
the couple silently made their way into the bedroom. Once there, she left Ed
sitting on the bed, and then walked over to the door and pulled it shut so
their raised voices wouldn’t disturb their daughter. That accomplished, she
whirled around, arms crossed and mouth pinched in irritation, and angrily
strode over to her husband. “What did
you do with the rest of the money?” Surprised by her sudden attack, Ed drew
back. Perspiration beaded along his hairline, and his brows gathered at the
bridge of his nose. “What?” “Don’t play
dumb with me, Edward Lynch!” Carolyn spat contemptuously. “What happened to
the other two thousand dollars? And if you want to live to see another day,
you’d better not lie to me!” In his
twenty-nine years, Ed had looked fear in the eye on several occasions.
However, this time was different; he’d never expected it to be
five-foot-four, have curlers in its hair, and be dressed in a ratty blue
housecoat. He’d never
been more frightened in his entire life. “Well,
I-I—” Ed stammered, his mind a jumbled mess of information. “You’d
better start talking, mister!” Carolyn shot back. “I want to know what
happened to that two thousand bucks, and I want to know now!” She was in the midst of her lecture, wagging her index
finger angrily down at her cowering husband, when suddenly her mood changed.
Through the veil of anger, tears began to form in her eyes. “Because if
you’re having an affair, you can just leave now,” she choked out in
conclusion. “Having an affair?” he repeated incredulously. “You are
cheating on me!” Carolyn tearfully proclaimed. “Don’t even try to lie! You
spent the rest of that money on some cheap, peroxide-blonde floozy named
Bunny!” “You can’t possibly think—” “I don’t know what
to think!” With a trembling hand, Carolyn wiped the steady stream of tears
now coursing down her high cheekbones. She suddenly got on her knees by the
foot of the bed, and looked up pleadingly at her husband. “Why, Ed? Haven’t I
been a good wife to you? Haven’t I loved you? Why did you do it? Why?” “I did it for you, Carolyn!” Ed exclaimed, throwing his
hands up in exasperation. “I did it for you!” The last of Carolyn’s already-fragile demeanor
deteriorated, and soon, wracking sobs shook her shoulders. “Exactly why did
you have an affair for me?” she
barely managed through her cries. “How does that help me?” “I didn’t have
an affair!” Ed reached down and clutched each of his wife’s arms to give her
a gentle shake. “I wanted to give you and Diana a better life, so I spent the
money on stocks!” “Stocks?” Carolyn’s sobs ceased, leaving behind hiccups.
However, the good news for Ed was that she didn’t appear nearly as angry or
upset as she had been ten minutes ago. “What on earth are you talking about?” “I bought one hundred shares of stock with the extra two
grand,” he told her flatly. She stared up at him wordless for a moment, her brows
drawn upward in surprise. After his words penetrated her brain, she asked,
“You spent the money in the stock market?” “Yes, Carolyn. I bought one hundred shares of stock in a
company.” She blinked a few times as she attempted to compute this
information. “And you spent all the
two thousand dollars on stocks?” “I did.” Carolyn reached up and brushed back a lock of ebony hair
that had fallen in her face. “Who did you buy the stocks from?” A frown marred Ed’s forehead. Instinctively, he knew his
wife wouldn’t like the answer to that question. When he opened his mouth to
provide that answer, nothing came out. “Who did you buy
the stocks from, Ed?” Carolyn prompted, her tone brusque. “Do you remember that guy I was friends with at Harvard?”
After a hesitant pause, he continued, “Bill—” Carolyn’s face turned a ghastly shade of gray. “Ed, please
tell me you didn’t buy two thousand dollars worth of stocks from that idiot
friend of yours who dropped out of college?! Please!” She pulled a handful of
hair out of her curlers and clutched it tightly. “What were you thinking?” “No,” Ed amended, “I didn’t give our money to some idiot;
I bought two thousand dollars worth of stock from a computer genius!” “That loser didn’t even get his degree!” she shouted
angrily. “If he can’t graduate, what makes you think he can run a successful
business?!” “I don’t know,” he admitted with a shrug. “It seemed like
a good idea at the time—” “Well, how does that idea sound now?” Carolyn demanded,
her voice dripping with sarcasm and her blue eyes flashing like bolts of
lightning. “Pretty stupid,” was her husband’s grim response. “Do you know how the stocks are doing?” Ed threw up a hand in resignation. “Heck if I know, Car. I
tried to look at one of those graph things to see if we’d made any money, but
it didn’t make a bit of sense to me. Best I could tell, they’ve only gone up
a couple of measly points, so I may’ve made a dollar or two, but it was
nothing like I’d hoped it’d be.” He shook his head sadly, and added in a
whisper, “I got in over my head, sweetheart. I hoped I’d be one of those
lucky guys who’d make a hundred grand overnight by some fluke stock purchase.
But I was wrong.” At her husband’s
defeated expression, Carolyn relented. She rose from her kneeling position
and sat beside him on the bed. Taking one of his hands in hers, she said,
“You had good intentions, Ed. Your heart was in the right place, like it
always is, but you just didn’t think it through before you acted.” He closed his eyes, hoping it would blind him to the
truth. However, no matter how gut-wrenching it was, he had to face it.
“You’re right. I tried to act like a big shot, and it blew up in my face. I
just wish I could make it all better.” “Could you sell the stocks?” Carolyn suggested hopefully.
“I’ve heard of people doing that. If we could just break even…” Ed shook his head. “I’m afraid I’m stuck with them for a
while. Most of the stocks I got from Bill were restricted, and he said I
couldn’t sell them for a few years.” “Exactly how many years until you can sell them?” “I’m not sure,” he mumbled. “I think he said ten or
fifteen. You know I have trouble remembering details.” Carolyn resisted the urge the snort; she knew quite well
that her husband would forget his own head if it weren’t attached to his
neck. “Well, how will we ever find out if— and let me repeat if— we’ve made any money?” “I don’t know,” Ed replied cryptically. “I guess Bill will
get in touch with me somehow. Maybe he’ll call or send a letter, or if he’s
not too busy, maybe he’ll stop by the house…” “I don’t think it works that way, Ed,” she commented,
sighing wearily. “Then how does
it work, Carolyn?” he inquired flatly. “And after you answer that, why don’t
you remind me that I don’t have the foggiest idea what I’m doing?” “Well, I’d like to, but as impossible as it sounds, I know
even less about this than you do!” Carolyn shot back, her temper once again
rising to the surface. “But I will tell you this: Maybe before you waste two
thousand dollars on buying shares of a company, you should actually learn something about the stock
market!” “Well, since I’m
the one with a real job, it was my
money to spend!” Ed countered loudly. The second the words were out of his mouth, Ed realized he
had just uttered the most foolish, most insensitive, most incorrect words
ever spoken. If he was lucky enough to survive the inevitable fallout, there
would be a stiff price to pay. If he
survived, that is. Carolyn stood up, placed her hands on her hips, and glared
down at her husband with all the rage of a thousand warriors. Ten thousand
nuclear warheads could not pose a greater threat to mankind. One very
frightened man, in particular. “How. Dare. You.”
Her words were slow and her tone was venomous. “I work my butt off, dawn till
dark, making this shabby apartment a happy home for you and our daughter. I
dare you to survive one week—no, one day! — doing what I do! You’d cry like a
little girl to go back to your job, Edward Lynch! Why, within an hour, you’d
be begging and pleading for a break from babysitting! You’d be buried in
dirty dishes and laundry, and Diana would be screaming and you’d be starving
to death!” Ed opened his mouth to speak, but before he could utter a
single word, Carolyn stuck her finger in front of his face and continued her
tirade. “And another thing! If I was the
one bringing home the bacon, I sure wouldn’t let some stupid college dropout
sell me a bunch of worthless stocks! You might as well have gone out and
bought magic beans!” Sherry-colored eyes blazing, nostrils flaring, temple
pounding, Ed stood to his feet. “Well, maybe I’ll just fling those magic
beans out the window!” he shouted. “Would that make you happy?” “You wouldn’t dare!” Carolyn challenged. He stomped out of the bedroom and into the tidy living
area. Forgetting that Diana was asleep, he yanked open the bottom drawer of
the old roll-top desk and dug through the drawer’s contents until he pulled out
the stock certificate that, at first glance, resembled a diploma. Poised and
ready to rip up the paper into a thousand tiny pieces, he looked over at his
wife, his eyes crackling and popping like a blazing campfire. “Wanna bet?” he
taunted in a steely voice. Quick as a wink, Carolyn had snatched the stock
certificate from her husband’s clutches. Before he could react, she stuffed
them back in the drawer, grabbed the key which was sitting on top of the
desk, and locked the compartment. Afterwards, she crossed her arms in front
of her, silently daring her husband to question her actions. “Give me the key, Carolyn,” Ed demanded. In response, Carolyn stalked over to the window, flung it
open, and tossed the key down to the street below. “You’ll have to find it
first.” “What’d you do that for?” he bellowed, waving his arms
around to express his frustration. “To keep you from doing something else monumentally
stupid!” Carolyn countered loudly. “If you ever want those stocks, you’ll
have to break your desk to get them!” “Woman!” Ed shouted at the top of his lungs. “If my father
hadn’t—” Before he could finish his statement, the sound of a
child’s cry rose above the couple’s angry voices. Her chin trembling with the
effort of holding back tears, Carolyn walked into Diana’s room and picked up
the tiny girl from her battered crib. Cradling the sobbing girl to her
breast, she murmured soothing words as she grabbed a blanket and wrapped it
around the small, shivering form. She brought Diana back into the living area
of the apartment, dimmed the lights, and sat down in the old rocking chair.
The wee girl’s cries slowly abated as her mother softly sung her an Irish
lullaby in her sweet soprano voice. Tell me the tales that to me were so dear, Not only did Carolyn’s song hush Diana’s wailing, it also
tamed the savage beast raging in her husband’s heart. Still standing by the
desk, Ed watched as his wife patiently ministered to their child. In spite of
the fact she was frustrated with him, Carolyn managed to do what she did
best— tend to the needs of those she loved. Remorseful tears began to form in
Ed’s eyes as he listened to the bittersweet tune his wife sang so beautifully. Right then and there, he decided to keep those cursed
stocks locked in the drawer where they belonged. Two-thousand dollars was a
lot of money, but that was only the tip of the iceberg; they’d almost cost
him his family. Ed vowed that lousy piece of worthless paper would never risk
his marriage ever again. For all I
care, it can rot in that desk! I’m never giving it a second thought! Silently, he walked over to the rocking chair and knelt
down beside it. His distinctive eyes looked up pleadingly at his wife as she
kept singing the old Irish folk song. Diana’s even breathing was a sign she
had fallen back to sleep, but it seemed Carolyn continued singing in an
effort to calm herself. Her steely blue gaze fastened on her husband’s
rumpled form, his beseeching expression telling her more than a thousand
words could. Although part of her wasn’t quite ready to reconcile, her
heart took up a much larger part, and that same heart broke as it witnessed
Ed’s open defeat. He was usually so careful with their finances, and Carolyn
knew in her heart that he’d made that investment to help their family. Those
two realizations appeased her wrath, and with a sigh of surrender, she
tenderly stroked his thick, coal-black hair as she felt all her anger slowly
dissolve. She knew without a doubt that they would get through this.
Two thousand dollars was a lot of money. But her husband was worth far more
to her. September 25,
1987… “Pwetty!”
three-year-old Diana shrieked in delight as she pointed to the lavender chrysanthemums
in the flowerbox in their neighbor’s window. “Pwetty fwowers!” Carolyn
smiled down at her little girl. “Yes, sweetheart. Those flowers are very
pretty.” “Ooh!
Pwetty flutterby!” Diana exclaimed, shifting her attention to the colorful
butterfly flitting through the sky. “Yes, the
butterfly is pretty also,” Carolyn added in amusement. Although Diana was
very young, she’d already expressed an interest in all things “pwetty”. She
held hands with her little girl, their entwined fingers swinging merrily
between them as they walked to the post office. Both mother and daughter
enjoyed their daily walks, and neither seemed in a hurry to reach their
destination. All too
quickly, the walk was over, and Carolyn led Diana to the small post office
where she was given their mail. She sifted through the envelopes, skimming
each of the return addresses. One in particular caught her eye, and she kept
that letter in the front of the stack. Although
she was tempted to stay out longer to enjoy the warm, Indian summer weather,
Carolyn hurried Diana back to their apartment so she could open the mail.
Recognizing the sender as the company from whom Ed purchased stocks almost
two years ago, she ripped open the envelope the minute she walked in the
door. With shaking hands, she pulled out the letter inside. Dear Mr. Lynch, This letter is to notify you that the stocks you
purchased on November 29, 1985 have split… Without even reading the rest of the letter, Carolyn
angrily stuffed the paper back into the envelope. In her haste to remove the
objectionable object from her sight, she didn’t stop to investigate the
second page. Tears forming in her bright blue eyes, she wrapped her arms
tightly around herself, hoping it would keep her from shaking. It had been a
long time since she had thought about Ed’s stock purchase, but the news that
the stocks had split was enough to reopen all her wounds. I don’t know
anything about the stock market, but this can’t be good news, Carolyn
thought to herself. It only makes sense
that the split stocks are worth less now than they were when Ed bought them. Her first instinct was to call her husband. However, as
she reached for the phone receiver, she thought about how stressful Ed’s job
had been lately. She also remembered the nasty fight they’d had the night she
learned about the stock purchase. She and Ed rarely argued, and in the end,
she decided it was far too risky to mention this to him now. Lifting her chin in a determined manner, Carolyn walked
into the couple’s bedroom, stuffed the letter into the top drawer of her
bureau, and then closed it firmly. As far as she was concerned, the subject
of the stocks was closed as well. She vowed any further correspondence from
Bill’s company would be placed immediately in that same dresser drawer. July 15, 1995,
almost ten years later, two years before The Secret of the Mansion Ed Lynch’s
mind was busy as he wiped the remaining shaving cream from his face. He
looked in the mirror and was surprised to see the man who looked back at him.
Instead of the youthfully handsome reflection he was accustomed to seeing, a
middle-aged man stared back. A man whose forehead was wrinkled and whose
coal-black hair was turning gray at the temples, all the result of worry.
Although he had a lot for which he was thankful, he also carried many
burdens. He sighed
heavily as he slung the hand towel, paper-thin from years of use, back on the
rack where it belonged. He would have to hurry if he didn’t want to be late.
Mornings began early in the Lynches’ tiny apartment on Main Street. The two
sets of twins, three-and-a-half-year-olds Larry and Terry and one-year-olds
Sarah and Grace, awoke just barely after the crack of dawn. The four little
ones seemed to have an endless supply of energy, but thankfully their sainted
mother had an endless supply of patience. Each day posed a new opportunity
for fun and mischief for the Lynch clan. Although she herself barely had time
to gulp down a cup of coffee before beginning the rest of her daily chores,
without fail Carolyn made a hearty breakfast each morning for her family.
With seven people in the household, there were always several loads of
laundry to do, and the dirty dishes in the sink seemed to spontaneously
reproduce. However, there was never a foul expression on his wife’s face; she
took her responsibilities in stride, counting it a privilege to make the
Lynches’ meager apartment a happy home for her loved ones. Anytime Ed thought
about the beautiful woman he had married, he breathed a prayer of thanks to
the Almighty. Diana, who would be eleven in July, was definitely Daddy’s
Little Girl. Though he loved all his children, Diana held a special spot in
his heart. Just as helpful as she was pretty, she cheerfully greeted the
babies each morning, taking them out of their shared crib in the master
bedroom and changing their diapers. She also helped Larry and Terry get
dressed, a feat which often had to be repeated once or twice. When she was in
school, she always helped her mother clean the kitchen before walking to
Sleepyside Elementary. Ed often accompanied his daughter to school, the two
enjoying their time alone. Silence was a visitor who rarely frequented the
small apartment. Often, important discussions had to wait until the twins
were in bed. Now that it was summer break, both father and daughter missed
the time when they could be alone. Ed still worked at the same advertising company in New
York City. Although West Side Advertising wasn’t making millions, the
business was keeping their heads above water, so Ed remained content to be
employed there. Rumors circulated that Mr. West’s health was declining and
that he was considering selling the business, a possibility that worried Ed
greatly. Though he was a hard worker, Ed struggled to keep from
downing in the quickly rising ocean of debt. His children were his pride and
joy, but having two sets of twins had created a mound of hospital bills. The
youngsters had been a blessing, but their births were costly, especially
since they all arrived prematurely, and had needed to spend a month in the
neonatal unit of the hospital. In addition to the insurmountable amount owed
to the hospital, there were more mouths to feed, more backs to clothe, and
more beds to provide. He worried daily about meeting each of the needs his
beloved family had, and that task was becoming more difficult with each
passing day. On the bright side, after living on Hawthorne Street for
several years, the Lynches had finally been able to leave the slums of
Sleepyside and “move up” to a two-bedroom apartment on Main Street. The
family only had one car, which more often than not was in the shop. Since he
hated to leave his wife without transportation, Ed walked to the station
every morning and rode the train into the city. Ed, his monstrous shoulders weighted down with worry,
plastered a jolly smile on his face and entered the tiny apartment’s
combination living/kitchen/dining room. Sarah and Gracie, his youngest
princesses, were seated in their highchairs, each gnawing on pieces of
buttered toast. Larry and Terry, named for their grandfathers, were
chattering about which character was better, Elmo or Big Bird. Carolyn smiled
as she set a plate of scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast in front of each of
them. The pair happily began munching on their food, their discussion about
the Sesame Street characters forgotten. Diana, a blooming actress, sat
opposite the boys, a script in her hands. She had pleaded to join a summer
drama program, and since it was free, her parents agreed. The young girl
aimlessly twirled a strand of blue-black hair, silently rehearsing the lines
of her latest play. She was studying her part so diligently that she didn’t
see her mother place a plate of food in front of her. As he beheld his boisterous family, he pushed aside his
financial concerns and concentrated on his blessings. Though several people
had more earthly possessions, not a single one was as wealthy as he. As he
appraised his happy, healthy family, he thought for the hundredth time that
in spite of his dire financial situation, he was the richest man on earth.
The phony smile from a few minutes earlier became genuine as he beheld his
treasures sitting at the table. A kiss was deftly placed on his cheek. “Your tie is
crooked,” Carolyn murmured as she proceeded to straighten it for him. “You
can’t go to work like that. What will Mr. West say?” “He’ll say that I had a fun morning,” Ed teased with a
wink. Carolyn smacked him teasingly on the arm. “Ed, the
children…” “What about them?” Ed asked, laughing heartily. “There’s
nothing wrong with kids seeing their parents show a bit of affection.” To
prove his point, he drew her close and kissed her soundly on the mouth. “Daddy’s kissin’ Mommy! Daddy’s kissin’ Mommy!” Larry and
Terry chanted merrily. Diana, a sophisticated lady of nearly eleven, merely
giggled. “Your tie’s crooked again, Daddy.” “So it is,” Ed
chuckled. With a wink he straightened it once more. Carolyn looked up at her hulk of a husband, adoration
obvious in her blue, blue eyes. “Now sit down and eat your breakfast before
you wrinkle your shirt.” “Yes, ma’am.” Ed gave her a crisp salute before sitting
down at the table. He carefully tucked one paper napkin in the collar of his
white oxford shirt, and laid another on his lap. Though their family had
little money to spare for clothes, Carolyn diligently searched the Salvation
Army and Goodwill stores for business suits, ties, and dress shirts. She was
quite handy with a needle and thread, and could make any alterations that
were necessary. As a result, Ed was the nicest dressed man in his small
office in spite of their meager income. “Larry and Terry, that silver object on the left side of
your plates is a fork,” Carolyn remarked pointedly as she refilled their cups
with orange juice. “And Diana, eat your eggs.” Diana wrinkled her nose distastefully. “Do I have to,
Mummy? You know I hate them.” “Don’t argue with your mother, Princess,” Ed said sternly.
However, after his wife’s back was turned to them, he gave his daughter a
wink and transferred her scrambled eggs to his own plate. “How’re you doing with your lines?” Carolyn inquired from
her post at the sink. “All right, I suppose,” Diana answered, her tone less than
enthusiastic. “I’m having a little bit of trouble pronouncing some of these
names. All these foreign names perp… con… These funny names really mix me all
up.” “Trixie Belden’s older brudder would help ya say ‘em,”
Terry suggested with a sly smile. “Yeah, Mart talks gooder than anybuddy I know,” Larry
added innocently. Diana cast a murderous glare at her little brothers across
the table. “Mart?” Ed’s brow furrowed as he repeated the name that
Larry had used. “Who is this young man, and do I need to have a talk with him
to discuss his intentions?” “Daddy!” Diana protested, crumpling on the kitchen table
with the drama of an Oscar-winning actress twice her age. “Mart’s just my friend.” “If he’s such a good friend, why haven’t I heard about him yet?” Ed prompted.
He was trying very hard to keep his tone stern, but his jolly demeanor was a
dead giveaway that he was teasing. “Ed, you remember Mart Belden.” Carolyn wiped her soapy
hands off on a well-worn hand towel. “Trixie’s older brother?” “Oh, yes,” Ed mumbled under his breath. “Is he the
serious, dark-haired Belden boy or the sandy-haired one that talks a lot?” “The sandy-haired one that knows a lot,” Diana clipped
shortly, anxious to change the subject. “Daddy, would you mind helping me
with my lines later?” Ed grinned knowingly at his daughter. “You wouldn’t be
trying to change the subject, would you?” Diana, although not even a teenager, was already an expert
at winding the male species around her pinky finger. She smiled in her most
becoming manner and fluttered her outrageously long, sooty lashes. “Of course
not, Daddy. I just wanted to ask before I had a chance to forget. You’re the best at helping me memorize lines.” “I’d be happy to go over your part with you, Princess,” Ed
agreed, all thoughts of Mart Belden temporarily forgotten. “Although I’m sure
I’ll be so distracted by your beauty that I’ll make a mess of the whole
thing.” “You’re so silly,
Daddy.” Though a blush brightened her cheeks, his daughter’s violet eyes
sparkled with pleasure. The girl’s unusual eye color was richer than her
mother’s blue ones. Diana’s purple irises resulted when Carolyn’s delphinium
blue shade meshed with the distinctive sherry-colored tint of Ed’s, creating
a brilliant indigo which resembled violet. Di was the only one of the Lynch
children to have this unusual eye color; Larry and Terry had blue eyes like
their mother, and Sarah and Gracie had their father’s rich reddish-brown
irises. “Hey, Di, are ya
gonna mix up yer lines in this new play like ya did in the play ‘bout Snow
White?” Larry asked, his mouth smeared with butter. “Or mebbe you an’ Trixie could fall offa the stage like ya
did when ya was dressed in them yella costumes,” Terry added hopefully. “I
kinda hope ya do, ‘cuz that was real funny.” Larry bobbed his head up and down in an enthusiastic
manner. “Or mebbe you could mix up them names like ya did a coupla months ago
in the play ‘bout the Rev’lution.” Diana exhaled loudly, her expressive eyes welling with
tears. Though she was often given a leading role in the school productions,
she usually ended up turning even the most serious plays into comedies. Ed gently clasped her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.
“You’ll do a marvelous job, Princess. I’ll help you with your lines later
this evening when Mummy’s giving the boys their bath.” “Okay, Daddy.” Diana smiled up at him, her tears quickly
replaced by a bright smile. “And after you make your Broadway debut, just remember who
helped you get to the top,” Ed teased. “Your mother and I would love a
penthouse apartment in the city.” “I’ll settle for a mansion in the country,” Carolyn
remarked as she crammed the skillets she had washed and dried into the
cramped cupboard. Ed sighed as wistfully as a man could while he watched his
wife. Carolyn never complained about their crowded quarters, but that only
made him wish even more that they had a bigger place. “Someday, Carolyn,
someday…” “Oh, Ed, you know I’m happy here.” Carolyn walked over to
the table and kissed the top of her husband’s head to assure him she was
perfectly happy where she was. “It’s much nicer than the apartment we lived
in on Hawthorne Street when Diana was younger.” “But it’s not as big,” Ed pointed out. “And now we have
two extra people.” “But it is safer, cleaner, newer…” Carolyn looked around
the main living area of the apartment, a contented smile on her face. “And
besides, the twinnies don’t take up much room. Look at it this way, darling.
If we had a bigger place, we wouldn’t have enough furniture to fill it.” Ed grinned wryly at her. “I suppose that’s one way of
looking at it. But you just wait, Carolyn. Someday, you’ll be living in a
house as big as that Manor House by the Beldens. Why, maybe even bigger!” “I’ll be happy living in this four-room apartment, just as
long as we’re together.” Carolyn wrapped her arms around her husband’s broad
shoulders. “Besides, you give away every extra dime you get. You’re such a
big softie that we’ll never be rich.” Ed grasped her hand and whirled her around until she was
sitting in his lap. “In possessions, that is,” he amended. “As far as I’m
concerned, I’m the richest man on earth!” Diana watched happily as her father nuzzled her mother’s
neck. She had determined long ago that someday she wanted an affectionate
marriage just like the one her parents shared. Once she found a man who kept
her smiling, she’d hang onto him forever. After Carolyn extricated herself from her husband’s
embrace, she scurried over to the combination washer/dryer in the kitchen to
begin a load of laundry. “Fifteen minutes until it’s time to leave, Ed,” she
called out as she turned on the washing machine. “And Diana, play practice
begins in thirty minutes.” Diana quickly began gathering plates and silverware and
carried them to the sink. Just as she had begun scrubbing, her father had one
final task for her. “Could you get me one last cup of coffee, Princess?” “Sure.” Diana obediently brought the coffeepot over and
filled her father’s mug. “Daddy, can I ask you a question?” “Of course you can,” Ed answered. “Do you need to borrow
the car on Saturday for an important date?” “No, Daddy,” Diana responded with a giggle. She nervously
chewed on her lower lip as she returned the pot to its spot in the
coffeemaker. “Well, as you know, my birthday is less than a month away…” “Yes, I believe someone reminded me yesterday evening that
the birthday fairy would be making a visit in a few weeks,” Ed said
thoughtfully. Diana walked back over to her father, aimlessly twirling a
blue-black wave around her finger. “Last Sunday, Trixie wore a pair of
darling Mary Janes to Sunday School. They looked so cute with the jumper she
had on. Of course, she hated them,
but I thought they were adorable. She stepped right in a gross mud puddle
with them, and I couldn’t believe it!” “Sweetheart, I have to leave for the station in five
minutes,” Ed prompted her. “Were you just telling me a story, or were you
leading up to something?” Diana blinked her eyes in a confused manner a few times,
but then quickly launched her assault. “Well, Daddy, I really, really want a pair of those shoes to
wear in the play. I asked Trixie where she got them, and she told me Mrs.
Belden found them at Crimpers. She said there were several pairs left. So, I
was thinking since my birthday’s next month…” “That you’d like a pair of those shoes?” Ed supplied for
her with a chuckle. Diana nodded, her entire face taking on a plaintive
quality. “Please, Daddy? If they cost too much, I have five dollars saved up
that I can give you. Please?” Ed’s heart broke at his daughter’s pleading expression.
Most of Diana’s clothes and shoes came from secondhand stores, except for the
things that Carolyn found on the clearance racks at discount department
stores or made herself. There was nothing he would like more than to provide
his princess with a royal wardrobe. He swallowed the lump that had risen in
his throat. “We’ll see what we can do, sweetie.” “Oh, thank you, Daddy!” Diana joyfully threw her arms
around the large man and hugged him tightly. “Ed, you have five minutes,” Carolyn reminded him. “And Diana,
instead of finishing those dishes, could you please dress the twinnies before
you leave?” After a placing a hasty kiss on her father’s cheek, Diana
raced over to the old highchairs. “C’mon, Sarah! C’mon, Gracie!” Balancing a
dainty girl on each hip, Di took the slightly gooey girls into the bathroom.
“Bye, Daddy! Have a good day at work!” “Goodbye, Princess,” Ed called. He followed his wife to
the front door. He leaned down to kiss Carolyn lightly on the lips. “Thanks,
dear.” However, instead of offering her usual sendoff, Carolyn
glared up at him sternly. “Ed, you should know better than to make promises
to Diana that you can’t keep,” she lectured. “We can barely afford a loaf of
bread right now, much less a pair of shoes from Crimpers!” “I’m sure we can swing it somehow…” “Have you forgotten that the alternator on our car is
out?” A tear slid down Carolyn’s cheek, confirming Ed’s suspicions that she
was more worried than angry. “And that our electric bill is almost a month
late? And that the girls need to go back to the doctor for their
immunizations? And that our cupboards are almost bare and it’s over a week
until payday? And that…” Frustrated with the helplessness of their situation,
Carolyn collapsed in tears onto her husband’s shoulder. “It’ll be okay, Car,” Ed murmured as he ran his long
fingers through his wife’s silky, black tresses. “It’ll all work out; it
always does.” “But we’ve never been this behind on bills before,” she
sobbed. “I don’t know how we’ll ever dig our way out of this…” “You let me
worry about that.” Ed prayed he sounded more positive than he felt. His
stomach sank as he mentally calculated the money they needed that month to
just break even. However, he plastered a confident smile on his face. “I’ve
got it all taken care of, sweetheart. Please don’t fret.” Carolyn drew strength from her husband’s words. Sniffling
back her remaining tears, she nodded her head and mustered a shaky smile. “That’s my girl,” he murmured. He laid the palm of one
hand against the delicate curve of her cheek, tenderly caressing her jaw line
with his thumb. “I’m sorry, Ed,” Carolyn whispered, her chin quivering
from the effort of suppressing tears. “I don’t know what got into me.” “It’s okay, sweetheart.” Ed leaned down and kissed the top
of his wife’s head. “We’ll talk more after I get home from work. Right now
I’m running late, so I’d better get to the station.” “Don’t forget to stop at the barber shop on your way
home,” Carolyn reminded him. She handed him the briefcase and bagged lunch
that she’d been holding this entire time, and then used her now-free hand to
brush back a shock of his coal black hair. “You’re getting a little shaggy.” “Yes, dear.” After a peek at the clock, Ed blew a kiss in
his wife’s direction, and then opened the door. “I have to go. I’ll see you around five-thirty or six.” Wishing he was still as athletic as he had been a decade
ago, Ed raced to the entrance of the apartment complex, out the door, down
the street, and barely caught the train as it pulled out of the station.
Breathlessly, he jumped on board, thanking God he hadn’t had that heart
attack his doctor had been predicting. Can this day
possibly get any worse? he thought as he mopped his sweat-soaked brow and
attempted to find a seat on the crowded train. Later that
same evening… At a quarter till five, Ed wearily opened the door to the
local barbershop in Sleepyside. He was exhausted from his stressful day and
hoped that his haircut wouldn’t take long. However, his hopes were dashed as
he appraised the occupants in the old-fashioned shop. Not only was someone
already in the barber’s chair having their hair cut, only one seat in the
back corner of the waiting area remained unoccupied. The only bright side was
that the empty chair was located beside Peter Belden. Peter looked at his friend over the evening edition of the
Sleepyside Sun that he was reading
as Ed sat down. “Well, look what the cat dragged in,” he greeted teasingly.
After a careful appraisal of Ed’s bedraggled and weary appearance, Peter’s
teasing gaze grew concerned. “How are you doing, old buddy?” For the first time since his father’s illness, the
ever-present jolly expression on Ed’s face was missing. “I’ve been better, my
friend.” If possible, his voice was even glummer than his countenance. “Rough day at work?” Peter gently prompted. The tension visibly increased around Ed’s eyes. Releasing
a labored exhale, the large man rubbed his temples in an effort to ease his
throbbing head. “You could say that,” he finally managed. Peter gave his friend an encouraging thump on the back.
“I’m sorry to hear that. I hope things turn around soon.” Ed snorted in disbelief. “I’ve been hoping that for a long
time myself. If I weren’t so loyal to Mr. West, I would’ve given up years
ago.” “Mr. West?” Peter prompted, his brow furrowed in
confusion. “He owns the advertising agency I work for,” Ed explained.
“He’s a good man, but I’ve never met anyone lousier at managing money. It’s a
miracle the company isn’t bankrupt by now. And now there are rumors that he
wants to retire…” “Why don’t you find a job somewhere else?” Ed released a pent up breath, his shoulders sagging from
the burdens which he carried. “I’ve often thought about it, but if I go, the
agency will go down the toilet. Mr. West taught me all I know about
advertising, and he’s always been so good to me. If I had the money, I’d buy
the company myself. Under the right management, West Side Advertising could
rake in the profits.” “I could check at the bank about getting a small business
loan for y—” Peter began. Ed’s booming chuckle interrupted the offer. “Pete, I don’t
have two nickels to rub together! You’d be out of your mind to loan me twenty
bucks, much less the funds necessary to buy a business. If you gave me a
loan, you’d get fired, and then neither one of us would have a dime.” Peter nodded, knowing well what Ed said was true. “Well,
if you need a few bucks to tide you over until payday, I’ll see what I can
do.” “Thanks, Pete. I really appreciate that.” In an effort to
change the course of the conversation, Ed pointed to the newspaper that his
friend had been reading. “So, anything interesting going on in the world?” “Not really,” Peter said without much enthusiasm. “Just
looking at the stock reports and wishing I had a thousand shares of Texaco or
J.P. Morgan. Have you ever done any investing?” Ed snorted loudly. “Only once, and Carolyn threatened to
divorce me if I ever did it again.” “Did you lose a bundle?” “Two grand,” was Ed’s quiet reply. Peter whistled through his teeth. “That much, huh? Whew,
you’re getting off easy with divorce; Helen would be threatening to kill me.” He took a moment to chuckle
at his own joke, and then asked, “What’d you do with those stocks?” “I think I stuck them somewhere in that old roll-top desk
my parents gave Carolyn and me when we got married,” Ed admitted with a
rueful grin. “I haven’t seen the certificate in almost ten years, so I’m not
even sure if they’re still in there. Carolyn may have burned them by now.” “She was that mad, huh?” “Remember that night when Car and I were doubling with you
and Helen, and I drove my old Chevelle to the airport?” Ed questioned with an
impish twinkle in his eyes. “And I illegally drove on the runway so we could
see if my hotrod could outrun that Cessna?” A smile played at the corners of Peter’s lips at the
memory. “Vaguely.” “Well, Carolyn was even madder about me buying the stocks
than she was when the police were chasing us down the tarmac,” Ed responded
flatly. Peter inhaled sharply. “That’s pretty mad.” “Oh, yeah,” Ed replied with an adamant nod of agreement.
He snickered, a mischievous grin planted firmly on his lips. “Needless to
say, that’s the last time I ever buy stock from anyone, even if he is
an old friend.” “Too bad your old friend wasn’t selling shares of
Microsoft,” Peter commented with another glance at the stock report in the
newspaper. “Their stocks are through the roof! No wonder Bill Gates is the
richest man on earth.” Ed’s eyes almost bugged out of his head, and he leaned
forward slightly. “W-w-who did you say?” “Bill Gates,” Peter repeated. “He’s the founder of
Microsoft. It’s some kind of company that sells computer paraphernalia.
Surely you’ve heard of him?” “Bill Gates?” Ed echoed. His blood ran cold as the name
whirled around his mind like a tornado. “William Henry Gates the Third?” “Yeah, I think that’s his full name.” Peter shrugged his
shoulders, not realizing the impact his words were having on his old friend.
“Haven’t you heard of Microsoft?” “I think,” Ed said, nodding weakly. “I’m not sure, but I
think the agency has that software, but I always use my word processor. I
never did get the hang of those computers, no matter how Bill tried to help
me...” If Peter caught the familiar name, he didn’t mention it. Ed’s heart beat wildly in his chest. The palms of his
hands prickled with shock, and in an effort to keep the room from spinning
out of control, he reached out and clutched the arms of the chair in which he
was sitting. “Bill Gates owns Microsoft?” he choked out again. “Yup,” Peter replied. Ed swallowed the huge lump that had risen in his throat.
“Is he a nerdy-looking guy? Brown hair? Huge glasses that take up half his
face?” “That’s what he looked like on the cover of Fortune 500,” Peter answered
matter-of-factly. “Oh, God.” Ed’s statement was more of a prayer than an
exclamation. He quickly bent over and assumed the crash position. The bologna
sandwich he’d eaten for lunch threatened to resurface, but he choked it back
down. “Oh, God!” “I think you already said that.” Peter’s brow furrowed
with concern as he studied his friend. “Are you okay, Ed? You look horrible.
You don’t need me to call Carolyn, do you?” After a minute or so of heavy breathing, Ed sat upright,
his face ashen. “I went to Harvard with Bill Gates.” “Is that so?” Peter quirked a brow to express his
interest. “I’d forgotten that you went there for a while before enrolling at
NYU. Further proof that it really is
a small world.” His breathing still ragged, Ed reached out and grasped his
companion’s shoulders. “I was friends with him. He dropped out of school, and
I had no idea he’d… he’d…” “He’d become a billionaire?” Peter supplied, still unaware
of the importance of this conversation. “I ran into him a few years ago, 1985 I think it was,” Ed
explained, his breath shallow. “He’d started his company, like he’d always
planned, and he told me the business was getting ready to open its stocks up
to the public. He offered to sell me a few shares.” It was Peter’s turn to be surprised. “Bill Gates offered you stock in Microsoft?” he stammered. “If that’s Bill’s computer software company, then yeah, he
offered me stock in Microsoft. I didn’t have the faintest idea what the name
of his company was. I guess he told me, but I do well to remember my own
phone number,” Ed answered. He bent back over and buried his hands in his
thick, black hair. “Oh, God.” His chocolate-brown eyes as wide as saucers, Peter glanced
back at the paper, and then down at Ed. “How many did you get? Five, ten,
fifteen…?” “One hundred,” Ed rasped. Peter bolted upright in his chair and practically threw
his copy of the Sleepyside Sun in
the air. “You have one hundred shares
of Microsoft?” Ed’s mouth felt as though it was packed with cotton. “No,
actually I have one thousand one
hundred shares of Microsoft. Bill gave some extra ones. Restricted, I think
he called them.” It was Peter’s turn to hyperventilate. He took a few deep
breaths in order to refill his lungs with oxygen. “You… have… eleven…
hundred… shares… of… Microsoft?” Ed nodded his head, which was currently located between
his knees. He raised his head just enough to ask in his quietest voice, “Did
I get my two thousand dollars back?” “Did you get your…?” Peter’s statement was interrupted as
he burst into a round of maniacal laughter. When he calmed down, he answered
Ed’s question. “Yeah, Ed, I’m pretty sure you got your two grand back.” He
stared at his friend through narrowed eyes. “So, why didn’t you sell these a
long time ago?” “I dunno… Bill said something about me not being able to
sell them for ten years or so, and I guess I just forgot about them.” “I know you can’t sell restricted stocked for two years,”
Peter remarked. “But you could sell them now, if you wanted to.” Slowly, Ed lifted his head and looked his friend square in
the eye. “How much do you think they’d be worth? Twenty thousand? Fifty
thousand?” “I’m not a stockbroker, but it’s a safe bet that those
shares are worth at least a million bucks.” A squeaking sound came out of Ed’s mouth, followed by a
loud crash as his two-hundred forty pound form hit the floor hard. The next
thing he knew, the barber was holding a small jar of smelling salts under his
nose in an effort to revive him. Trying to find his way out of a fog, Ed
turned his head from side to side, searching for the familiar face of his
oldest friend. “Pete?” he mumbled groggily. “He’s on the phone,” one of the men in the shop told him,
pointing at the dark-haired man. His vision hazy, Ed looked over at the phone hanging on
the wall, and sure enough, there was Peter, shouting into the receiver and
waving his hands like a lunatic. “Thank you, Dale!” Peter yelled. He saw Ed begin to stir
and nodded his head up and down vigorously. “He’s waking up now! I’ve got to
go!” Peter attempted to hang the receiver back up on the hook,
but in his haste, he missed, and the phone landed on the weathered linoleum.
Nobody, however, seemed to care. The entire barber shop was abuzz with the
happenings. Peter raced over to his limp friend, jumping over an old
man’s legs whose arthritis prohibited him from moving quickly enough. In one
swift movement, he was kneeling by Ed’s side and clutching the large man’s
shoulders. His own hands were trembling so badly that he was sure he was
causing Ed to shake. “I just called my friend, Dale,” Peter explained, slowly
and distinctly. “He’s a stockbroker in the city, and I knew he could estimate
what those shares are worth. He said that your original eleven hundred
Microsoft stocks split for the fifth time on May 23, 1994. He said that by now,
you actually have 19,800
shares.” “Is that good?” Ed managed. “That’s very
good,” Peter assured him. “What does it mean when stocks split?” “Dale will explain all that stuff to you later,” Peter
said. “He said the company should’ve mailed you additional stocks each time
your shares split.” “If they did, Carolyn must’ve done something with them,”
Ed commented. “Those stocks were such a sore spot between us that she
probably just stuck them somewhere safe and didn’t even bother to look at
them.” “Dale will go more
in depth later,” Peter interjected, “but right now wouldn’t you like to know
how much you’re worth?” “I’m not sure,” Ed whispered. “Well, I’m going to tell you anyway, buddy.” Peter grinned
broadly, and then dropped the bomb. “Your original eleven hundred shares are
worth a little over two million. And when you figure up the amount of the
split stocks—” But before he could continue, Ed lost consciousness again.
Thankfully, this time he didn’t have far to fall. When he woke up a few
minutes later, he waved his arm in the direction of the telephone. “Can
someone give me the phone? I need to make an important call.” The barber raced over to the telephone, took it off the
hook, and stretched the long cord until it reached Ed. In spite of his frazzled
condition, Ed was able to dial the number for home. “Carolyn?” he greeted in a weak voice. “Remember those
stocks I bought ten years ago from that college dropout? Remember how you
called them ‘a bunch of magic beans’? Well, get ready to climb that beanstalk,
baby! Our goose just laid a golden egg!”
And as they say, the rest is history!
In case you’re interested, Ed sold some of his stocks, paid off his debts,
bought the mansion, and also bought West Side Advertising, which grew into
the most successful advertising company on the East Coast. First and foremost, many, many thanks
must go out to Vivian, who was a tremendous help while writing this story. We
have only recently begun to dabble in the stock market, and I’m still just as
ignorant as Ed and Carolyn Lynch. She patiently explained all the
possibilities to me, and without her help, this story would’ve remained
merely an idea. Once I told her that Ed would make his fortune in Microsoft
stocks, Viv provided a color-coded spreadsheet that helped me pin down
exactly when this story had to take place. Her insight was extremely
valuable, and if I hadn’t been blessed with her input, it wouldn’t have been
believable. Thank you bunches, Viv! You are a true Bob-White, and I love you
bunches! {{{HUGS}}} Thank you also to my faithful editor
and friend, the lovely Steph H. You’re the best, baby! *smoochies* Did Bill Gates actually attend
Harvard? Yes. Did Bill Gates actually drop out to start Microsoft with his
friend Paul? Yes. Was Bill Gates actually a nice guy, who’d give an old
college buddy a thousand shares of stock? Well, I don’t know, but I’m hoping
that the fact that I’m making him out to be a nice guy will keep him from
suing me for using his name. *g* Hey, Bill, have I mentioned that I am a
loyal fan of Microsoft and that I don’t think you’re evil? Remember, I made
you a nice guy, and if you sue me, you’ll get all I own, which is basically
nothing… Steph is responsible for the
waitress’ name. Dixie was originally named “Fran”, but Steph deemed her more
of a Dixie than a Fran, and it grew on me. The books often talked about Ed’s
generosity, which was the basis for this story. I like the idea that Ed’s
benevolence begat his fortune. Do you recognize Matt from Bill’s
business class? *g* And how about Matt’s friend? More about Matt’s family
history can be found in the story, “My Boy”. Carolyn Wilson Hoffman was named in
my story “Blue
Christmas”. Wilson was her birth name, of
course, and Hoffman was her adoptive parents’ name. The books said that Di’s parents fell
in love when they were ten-years-old, and since I’d already made Carolyn a
few years younger than Ed, I had to fix my own KK mistake, ergo the
explanation offered in this story. Hey, at least I didn’t give Jim blue eyes… Since I am a novice when it comes to
the stock market, I automatically assumed that a stock splitting was a bad
thing. I played on that assumption in this story, allowing Carolyn to draw
that same conclusion. When Viv explained that it was a good thing, I decided
to work it into my storyline. Whenever a stock split (which they did on
9/21/87, 4/16/90, 6/27/91, 6/15/92, and 5/23/94), it was a good thing. It is canon that Diana doesn’t like
eggs. I did not make that up. In case you’re wondering, Damon and a
friend of his actually were chased by the police down the tarmac of our local
airport. That was a very, very long time ago. J Finally, thank you to MaryC for
hosting two writing challenges. The summer challenge got this story started,
and the winter challenge got it almost finished.
|
