The First Ninety Days Ch. 09

"It's just a little white lie."

Caitlyn shot him a grumbling look.

"Fine, then, ask him if we can leave early. We'll wheel the harp into the side office and zip it up there." The harp went everywhere in a protective shroud; without its cushioning, car drives might be fatal.

"Hmm, he might be okay with that," said Caitlyn. "I mean, it's seven o'clock.He's probably not even here yet."

And that was their cover story at eleven. "Before I begin, I'd like to take this moment to thank Caitlyn Delaney Stanford, who has played atall three services today. Despite the cold weather and the early hour, she agreed to be here at seven AM to rehearse and play in the early service, and then the other two as well. We've decided to let her and her husband Jon go home a little early, but first: we've received news that it's actually Caitlyn's birthday."

Caitlyn, halfway across the dais, turned bright red.

"How old are you today, Caitlyn?" Larry Pendleton asked, turning to her, and the grin on his face that told Jon that the minister had been planning this ambush for several days.

Caitlyn was gawping like a fish, so Jon took matters into his own hands. "She's twenty-one."

"She's twenty-one," Pastor Pendleton marveled. "Twenty-one, a truly gifted harpist, studying for her master's degree and happily married. She started early in her life as well as early this morning. So, in honor of what will hopefully be a fun and enjoyable day: Amber, if you please?"

And Amber Pendleton struck up the organ in that old familiar arpeggio, and the entire congregation sang. Caitlyn looked somewhere between offense and tearful happiness. Jon, who was singing along at top volume (and in key, thank you very much), saw a sea of smiling faces... Except for those belonging to Samuel and Linda Delaney. Caitlyn's father was stone-faced—he could be hiding just about anything under that Easter-island visage—but Mrs. Delaney looked to be nearly choking on her fury.

Jon hustled his wife off the dais before she could noticethat particular feature.

"I can't believe it," Caitlyn said, somewhere between annoyed and giddy. "I can't believe it. Who did that?"

"Dude, how manyother people get happy-birthday'd by the entire church?" Jon said, trying to inspire a smile.

"It was probably Pastor Larson," said Caitlyn. "Or Mrs. Larson. I am so gonna—"

"Thank them," Jon said. "Thank them kindly."

"Well, yes, of course," Caitlyn said. "And then, on their birthdays... I don't know, do you think a stripper cake would be too much?"

"For our budget, yes," Jon said, laughing, and started pushing the harp.

They dropped the harp back off at the apartment, snagged a quick lunch, and at 12:55 rolled into a parking space at Global Economic Associates, Inc. Roger DiSalvo was exactly as Jon remembered, a portly Hispanic with a shaven head and fairly bouncing with energy. "Jonathan Stanford, and on time I see! You know, I always say you can tell something about a man by whether he arrives when he says he will. I'm glad to see you. And this beautiful creature must be your wife. Your name is?"

"Caitlyn." She extended her hand to be shaken. "Caitlyn Stanford."

"Caitlyn. A lovely name for a lovely woman. it's a pleasure to meet you. Why don't you both come up to my office and I'll show you what Global Economic Associates can do for you."

"Laying it on a little thick, isn't he," Caitlyn said to him in an undertone. Jon shrugged. Yes, he supposed, one could look at it that way, but Jon preferred to wait and see before making any firm judgments. Roger DiSalvo exuded an easy camaraderie which Jon admired. Maybe effusive praise was just his way.

Roger DiSalvo led them up the stairs and down the hall, through a conference room so large it could probably house an entire company. The room was completely bare, for the most part, save a table in a corner and a few banners above the front stage. Off of this room were a number of smaller rooms, one of which Roger ushered them into. "My office," he said. In this office was a curving, two-sided desk with a wheelie-chair for Roger on the inside and client chairs on the outside; a computer; a closed filing cabinet; and some binders piling up in a corner.

Roger wasted no time in getting down to business. Quickly he was knees-deep in talk about finances, 401Ks, retirement, investments and other monetary chaos. Some of the particulars of it evaded Jon, but he wasn't too concerned about that: Caitlyn, after all, was the Accounting major, and he was sure she would catch what he missed. The whole thing seemed fairly simple, though: an overall plan to help make sure there was always enough money. Jon, keenly aware of the inadequacy of his current salary, could much appreciate that.

"Basically, we at Global Economic Associates take this knowledge out into the world," Roger said. "We teach people these principles and then help them choose investments, insurances and savings policies that will benefit them in the future. So, what do you guys think? Did you guys know about this stuff before today?"

"No," Jon said. "No," Caitlyn said.

"Would you tell people this information if you had the chance?"

"Well, sure," Jon said, but Caitlyn, evidently seeing where this was going, said, "Only if they paid me!"

"Ha-ha, that's the spirit!" said Roger. "Now, if you're interested, we'll have you each fill out an application form. One of the things we'll ask you to do is assemble a team, a group of people who are close associates of yours who will help you market, process and approach. Furthermore, employees at Global Economic Associates—" Jon noticed the slurring, as if he'd said the name thousands of times before:globaleek-nomica-soshits. "—are technically self-employed, and one of the things we'll require is a $50 deposit with which we run a background check. Since you will be selling insurance policies and such, it's important to us to hire trustworthy people who have never had prior trouble before, you understand? And, because it's a business expense, you can claim it as a tax write-off. We accept check or credit card."

"Ah, um," said Jon, digging for his wallet. "Okay."

"Jon," said Caitlyn, in a voice that stilled movement. "I think I left my wallet in my purse. Would you mind going out for it?"

Roger DiSalvo turned away from his computer to look at them.

Jon blinked. "Umm, sure. Umm. Just, give me a minute, and I'll be right back."

When returning the harp to the apartment, Caitlyn had changed clothes. Currently she was wearing a voluminous hoodie sweatshirt and a pair of jeans fished out of the men's department, small enough for her frame. They were her favorite jeans, she said, because they had the one thing most women's pants lacked: pockets, pockets a capacity of more than a fluid ounce.And when she has pockets, doesn't she normally keep her wallet in...?

And a quick look in the car confirmed that, yes, she did normally. The wallet wasn'tin her purse. Chapstick, make-up, sunglasses, cellphone: all those things were, somehow crammed into a package that looked barely large enough to hold a compact. (She had always prided herself on Mary-Poppins-style handbags.) Undoubtedly she knew she had the wallet; why had she sent...

—Oh!

"I, um, I couldn't find it, sweetie," Jon told her. "I think we left it at home." He tried to keep his voice level and normal, and not tense and confused. How did he sound normally?I really should pay attention to myself. It's hard to lie convincingly when you don't know how you sound when you tell the truth.

"Uh-oh," said Caitlyn, sounding for all the world like a woman without her wallet. "We'd better go home and check, I'd hate to think of what would happen if I lost it..."

"Yeah," Jon agreed, trying not to sound too emphatic.

"Oh dear, thatis troublesome," said Roger DiSalvo. "Jonathan, do you think you could finish your application before—"

This time Jon was on the ball. "I wish I could, but all of Caitlyn's ID and credit cards and things are in that wallet. If someone's gotten their hands on it... Well, seconds could matter."

"We'll call you back about finishing them up," said Caitlyn.

"All right, well," said Roger DiSalvo, evidently realizing there was no hope. "Let me at least walk you down."

As he did, he regaled them with his own life story: married young, divorced younger, and now with sole custody of a seven-year-old daughter. "Depending on my earnings, I might be able to retire in a few years. I'd really like to spend that time with my daughter." Jon could appreciate the sentiment, but at the moment his paranoia was up, and while Roger's story might be heart-felt, it might also be manipulative. Jon would take no chances.

What spiked Caitlyn off, anyway?

It wasn't until they were safely away in the car that Caitlyn could answer. "It wasn't the money thing. ...Okay, it wasn'tjust the money thing. I've had business classes in cheats and scams and stuff like that, and... Well, the $50 sort of made everything clear. All the little details I'd noticed. Like, how totally empty the conference room was. How empty his office was. Nobody else seemed to be there, did you notice? And then, when he said we'd have to recruit other people into the business... It all just lit up at once."

"Jeez," said Jon. "I'm glad I had you there!"

"I was just scared you wouldn't get my message," Caitlyn said, looking at him. "When I sent you after the wallet..."

"Yeah, I almost missed it," Jon agreed. "Jeez, how stupid can you get. We really gotta work out a code or something for—"

The trill of a cellphone interrupted him. It was Jon's. "Hi, Jon! It's Christa! How are you?"

"Christa?"Uh-oh, she must be calling about the party. He switched the phone to his left hand, for the fragile advantage of distance. "Hi, how are you?"

"Doing great, thanks! Listen, we managed to get in and we're all set up. Are you guys coming?"

"Um, uh—"Thank God for that spook at the office; otherwise, my brain would still be running at melted-bones speed. "Look, Christa, I'm kind of on the road right now." "Oh my goodness, is Caitlyntherewith you," Christa began, but Jon rode her over. "Do you mind if I call you back when I get home? Say, about twenty minutes?"

"Ohh, of course," said Christa, picking up on it with an alacrity that made made Jon feel old and slow. "When you get home, then."

"Thanks," said Jon. "Bye." He turned back to Caitlyn. "Sorry, where were we?"

"You were about to come back up to his office and ask me whether I had my wallet in my pocket," said Caitlyn, amused.

"Right, don't remind me," Jon groaned, and Caitlyn laughed, and afterwards there was silence for a while.

"...How come I didn't see it," she said eventually. "I should've... I dunno, even from the moment I saw him, I was a little bit... I mean, he was so congenial, you know? He wasreally trying to sell. And I should've been on-guard more, but, he drew me in. He suckered me in just like—"

"Hey, hold on a minute," Jon said. "You saved us! If it hadn't been for you, who knows where we would've ended up!—Short a hundred dollars at thevery least, and God only knows what else!"

"I should'veseen it," Caitlyn gritted, thudding down on the armrest with a fist. "I should'veseen it—"

Jon, having no real idea what to say, said nothing. He gave her a wide-eyed look and turned back to the road.Why is it so important to her? Why is she taking it so seriously?...

After a few moments, she sighed. "And here I was so sure that God had put that in our path. That God had smiled down on us, and was giving us a way out. And it turns out that it was actually... Not Him. The Other."

Jon, though he wasn't sure he should mention it, said, "Cait... You know, they could be reputable. Maybe it's just... A weird way of doing business."

"Maybe," said Caitlyn, in a voice that told him she didn't believe it. And Jon, still not sure what else to say, let silence rule the ride home.

He had almost forgotten about the party, and for a moment was extremely confused at the sight of the foil balloons and the giant banner, clearly Zach's work (nobody else would draw using highlighters), blaring "HAPPY 21st CAiTLYN!" The birthday girl in question, CAiTLYN (What happened there?), said, "What the heck—" and took two steps into the room.

"Surprise!" said Meredith and Christa and Brandon, popping out from behind the couch. Jon hadn't realized there was enough room back there for everybody.

"Unh??!" said Caitlyn.

"Happy birthday," Christa said, descending on her with a hug and a pair of those air-kisses Jon had never quite figured out.

"Blame him," Brandon said with a grin, pointing at Jon.

"He's good at ambushing," Meredith agreed.

"No, as in, blame him if Laurelyn has somehow made a mess of your bedroom in the five minutes we left her in there," Brandon said.

"I'd better go check on her," Meredith agreed, pacing over to the door. But as she passed the threshold she had to step back, as Zachary Crane strolled out in calm oblivion.

"What," he said, looking around, "did I miss it? Aww, crap. Surprise!" He lunged like a Broadway singer, throwing his arms wide. Jon laughed.

Caitlyn had the happiest look on her face Jon had ever seen; she seemed near to tears again. "I can't believe you guys."

"Believe it," Brandon said, a warm smile on his face.

"What else are friends for?" Christa asked.

"Well, besides messing up your birthday," Zach said. "By the way, we invited a bunch of people you either know, kinda-know or thought you'd like, so I hope you're ready for a crowd."

"We did not," said Christa, shooting her husband a half-annoyed, half-affectionate look, which Jon thought must appear on her face with alarming frequency. "We did invitesome people, though. It's your twenty-first birthday. The six of us would be a little bit boring."

"Now, I don't know about that," said Meredith, coming in with Laurelyn in her arms. "For one, there's seven of us, andthis little critter can cause an enormous amount of trouble."

"Oh, yeah, we should've child-proofed the apartment first..." Christa exclaimed.

"And don't worry, if it gets to be too much we'll quiet things down," Brandon said.

Caitlyn turned to Jon with an unsteady expression. "You," she said. "Made me think that you were planning absolutely nothing."

Jon tried to keep from grinning. "Well, um. That was, in fact, the essence of the surprise."

"You," she said, "are in serious trouble, young man."

Taking a gamble, he said, "Well, if it's anything like the trouble we got into this morning, I'll take it!" And the others laughed, and Caitlyn, though she tried to hold her stern expression, couldn't, and moved into his arms and held him tight.

"Happy birthday," he said.

"I love you," she said. "You know, I reallywas kind of thinking about just spending the whole rest of the day here with you."

He felt his body stirring, and willed it to be calm. "Well... We can always send them home early..."

She laughed against his throat.

Within an hour, Zach's promise had lived itself up. Aside from a few members of Octapella whom Christa and Zach had thought to invite (Rod, Beth, so on), there was Rachel Prescott, who had started out as Laurelyn's baby-sitter but almost turned into a third member of the family. On her arm was someone Jon had never met before, a fellow named Jeff Gainesborough. "He's from our high school," Christa explained. "We set them up on a blind date last year. We wouldn't've invited him if we didn't think he'd get along with you guys." On top of that there were a few people Jon had managed to invite from Shellview State, friends and compatriots Caitlyn had met in her half-year there. (The hardest part had been finding a way to contact them, since he hadn't evenmet one of them. Facebook was a life-saver in this regard.)

It was a lively party—probably the most exciting one Caitlyn had had in her life—but Jon couldn't help looking around and realizing that most of them didn't know each other, and furthermore that many of them didn't really knowCaitlyn. It had been Christa's idea to invite more people, and Jon had agreed because he couldn't see the harm in it, but ultimately the people who mattered most were the five who had started out.We're her friends, we five. The rest... Well, I don't know how close they are. Or consider themselves to be. Are they here for the party, or are they here for her?

That's something we need to work on, he decided.In part it's because she's been so sheltered by her parents, but she can also be so... Standoffish. She doesn't like letting people in. And so she's onlyleta few people in, and one of them's her husband but the other four are busy having their own lives. She needs other people. She needs people.

And I'm the same way, he realized.I have Octapella, sure, but, sometimes I'm not sure how closethey are either. Weboth need friends.

Soon enough, though, he found himself doing his part. Jeff Gainesborough would probably get along with Caitlyn; he wascertainly getting along with Jon. Though quiet, and minoring in Math (inexplicable to Jon), his reticence concealed, not slowness, but a careful manner and utterly deadpan humor. This was a man who thought carefully about what he saw. It took a little while to get him to soften up—but then, Jon thought, remembering the college-group meeting on Thursday,it took us the same. And, once someone had sat down to talk to him, he showed no intention of remaining aloof.

"How did you meet Rachel," Jon asked.

"Through the Chamberses," Jeff said. "We went to high school together."

"Wow," said Jon, who hadn't kept track of anyone he'd gone to high school with.Of course, if it had been Brandon and Meredith... "And... You were, what, visiting them or something?"

"Actually, it was really a joint thing between them and the Cranes," Jeff said. "I was on the ski trip they took last year, and Zach and Christa took the opportunity to put us together in a sort of blind date thing."

"Wow. Impressing a girl is one thing, but impressing a girl while on skis is quite another."

"Yeeeeaaaah," said Jeff.

"But, um, it seems to have worked," Jon said. "I mean, she's dating you, you're dating her... You guys seem really happy together. Like Brandon and Meredith."

"Well, thank you. That's a big compliment. ...Actually,too big a compliment, because I'm sure you must be exaggerating."

Jon laughed. "Okay, so I am. But... You know. There's some of that."

"What, as in, how Meredith's personal orbit is defined entirely by Brandon? And vice versa?"

"Yeah."

"Well, thank you. Thatis a big compliment." There was no smile this time. "Even though it's not quite true anymore; now their orbits revolve around Laurie."

"Yeah. That's true. And they're so tired all the time. They try to hide it, but..."

"Well, Laurelyn's turning into quite a handful. It's just that time of her life. Rachel—" He gestured to his girlfriend, who was re-acquainting herself with the tiny girl who had been hobby and livelihood for six months of the last year. "—has more patience with her than anyone I've ever seen, except Brandon and Meredith of course, but eventuallyeveryone is gonna do something to tick you off—especially once they get older and start being able to pull more things down to the floor. And on top of that, they're both working their tails off to make ends meet. Brandon's really angling for a promotion or a better job somewhere, because when you don't get paid much your only choice is to work longer, and eventually you run out of hours in the day."